My afternoon with Lydia just brought home to me how white I am but also how unhappy I am (15th July 2006)

My afternoon with Lydia just brought home to me how white I am, but also how unhappy I am. From the moment I met her outside -- tube she started saying “you are unhappy”. I suppose I am. I live in a constant fog of unhappiness that I have got so used to I no longer notice it. Only when I am forced to be with people, I realise how shocking other people find me. And how white I am. I live in darkness, both literally and metaphorically. Who would I want to be with now? No one. Not Lydia. Not —–. Not Pamela. I only want to be alone. Left alone with my writing the way Munch wanted to be left alone with his pictures. This is a wonderful world for an autistic person. As long as we can indulge it. After getting back to Charing X from --, I had a small tuna & mayo with the grinning “how are you?” Alia, and “see you later!”, before dragging myself back into the Calcutta. Only as I got on the 815 train I saw the huge voluptuous titted blonde bouncing past the window, with that almost black lipstick pout she puts on in disgust when she knows men are looking at her tits, yet she always wears those ludicrously low cut vests, this time green, that show off so much of the tops of her tits. How I would like to touch & taste & f–k those tits.

You could say I have got worse, and I am like someone who has given up and will try no more; or you could say I have got better. I am more myself now. I am purer. I have gone deeper into myself, and deeper into nothingness. And that is where I long to be and where I love to be.

Even Thursday I felt so bored in the cinema, despite Tittenalarm 18, UNTIL the blonde came in with the man, and was kissing him, and her knees drawn up so he could finger her and all the men in the seats in front were turning & looking up her. That suddenly was SO hot and sexy. I had to leave in a hurry because I wanted to explode straightaway with Demi, but still she is gone for another two weeks, so I went with Francesca, just in the one position and came easily. I will not go back. Demi will be the next one I go to. The Sunset rota is up but I just feel totally sated by it now. I would rather go see Taxi Driver and the Romanian film. I have to stop my spending now. 

Another call from Lydia as I lay cutting up my newspapers (9th July 2006)

Another call from Lydia as I lay cutting up my newspapers. I let it ring out, but immediately felt guilty, & texted her back Oh Lydia. This time I answered. What you doing Wednesday & Thursday? You come swimming with me? Maybe. Maybe, or yes?! I don't like swimming but I like you. Alright we will just go outside somewhere. Thursday. I feel excited. She always turns me on. I always want to lay with her and f--k her. I have loved her since the first time I met her. It has been almost two years now. Then there is -----, who I am still addicted to. 

Then there is Lilith. When you put your face close to the cam, it is like the greatest thing in the world. It is like the opening bars of Beethoven's 5th symphony. Something great has just occurred. Like Norman Mailer wrote about Last Tango in Paris. When Marlon Brando first meets Maria Schneider in the apartment & without warning reaches down & rips her knickers off in one movement, the sound of that tear is as great a moment in Western civilisation as the opening Da-da-da-daas of Beethoven's 5th Symphony. It is lunacy but beautiful lunacy. When you put your face next to the screen, it is as great. You say you do this for connections. Yet you don't see the point. Maybe just not with me. You are on a different level to all the other girls. You are iconic. I am scopophile. Erotomane. If you don't talk, you become a fetish object. We gaze & gaze at you. No one else would be worth gazing at. Your face is addictive. There is more going on in your face & eyes than all the other "models" put together. Men look, and women are looked at. I cannot believe there is anyone on the entire web as worth gazing at as you. You glow in the dark. Like the tip of your nighttime cigarette. And the men gather to you, like moths around the flame. And if their wings burn, you know you're not to blame. Marlene Dietrich. Years ago I used to go to old cinemas and gaze up at her face like I do to yours now. They say her glory was all down to the lighting. It is clever the way you light yourself as well. You just show us your face & shoulders, and lit by a spotlight. None of the other girls do that. I can scroll down the list of online girls so quickly knowing your face will leap out as soon as I get to it. 

Every meeting with Lydia is so charged and erotic. Every meeting with ----- is so charged and erotic. Every meeting with Lilith is so charged and erotic. Demi, too. Melani. To an extent, Sandra, Helen.

Quite a grey cool 7AM start to the day as it so often is in summer (18th June 2006)

Quite a grey cool 7AM start to the day, as it so often is in summer. I just want to be going back to Sunset Strip and Sunset Cinema. I am a rebel and a revolutionary and I just do not care. I flaunt and provoke and scandalise. Just three nights to get through! Then Jolanda for sure early Wednesday. When the ———? When my life is so empty and I am so bored, what else could I do but turn to pornography, strippers and whores? Is Lydia another one I have broken the heart of? Like Lela, and Ana Maria? Maybe Pamela, too? Viktoriya? Susi? If I didn’t spend money like this is in Moloch, I would just save it so I could do the same things in Berlin and Vienna. Van Gogh, Dowson, Ravel spent their whole life with whores, it is what artists, writers, composers do. It is the bohemian way of life. And it leads to the madhouse, or the morgue. I love my little flat don’t I?! To listen to Wagner Tristan Prelude and Schoenberg’s Erwartung on my tape machine, and then watching the Francesco man on the TV talking about Italy.

How to gather together all the fragments of thoughts and impressions from this night? (17th June 2006)

How to gather together all the fragments of thoughts and impressions from this night? I went straight to Calcutta for two while watching the start of the Czech-Ghana match, then up to Sunset via Oxford Circus and Central Line. Elektra was there but it is three new girls who made the most impression on me. Luna, like another Giselle, Adriana and Helen. All beautifully voluptuous and sexy, but it was Luna especially who actually made me swell. For her second arrival she went to the pole nearest me, turned round and bent over to point her ass straight at me, as if to say this dance is for you. At 6 I went up and watched a bit of football. Foxy was there & she kept glancing round as if towards the street, and when she went in to dance, she looked anxiously back over her shoulder and I followed her with my eyes and we locked eyes with each other very intently. That was a thrilling moment. Elektra was dancing to a song “and the TV’s on” “just a little baby” something like that. The music there is so loud, and bass-deep, and thumping. I was in one of those moods where every girl was sexy, even Nikita on her back as I came in, in a double act with blonde Emma. I left for the Royal Opera House via Holborn and Piccadilly Line to Covent Garden, had a pack of crisps in the pub opposite while watching the end of the Ghana game—how fantastic when a World Cup is on! To go from pub to pub watching bits of games! Once again I remembered why I thought I would become a regular at the ROH. From that balcony position C64 the view is fantastic. You feel so close to the action. It feels so exciting. Christine Rice was great in Duke Bluebeard’s Castle in red dress. I really enjoyed it. I ached painfully when I thought I could have been in this position to see Alexandra von der Weth in Boulevard Solitude five years ago if I could have been bothered, and now will probably never see her. One of the great missed opportunities of my life, along with Violeta Urmana at the Wigmore. I was feeling very tired during Bluebeard, but forced myself back to pub just for a coke with ice while watching the Italy-USA game. I saw the Italy goal, the USA goal, and the Italy sending off, before I had to go back for Erwartung, which was also fantastic. It is so Vienna! It reminded me so much of the nights searching the Gurtel for Tallulah or Esmeraldas. That really is the music of the Viennese broken world. How you look for love and sensuality but it is always broken and twisted, and you can never believe in it. I found it very very moving, this lonely solitary questing after love and sex. 

Back to Covent Garden, Holborn, Central Line to get back to Soho. So many breasts on display in this hot weather, the black dress girl with cleavage hanging out getting on tube as I got off. There were screens in the street around Frith Street and Bateman and crowds were gathered watching the end of the Italy game, a huge roar went up before I got there, but it was a miss. I decided to go back to Sunset as it cost me no more, to see some more action. I watched the last four minutes of the game, then went downstairs to find it packed!!! With four of five girls as well. I will come on Saturday nights more often. Ariana, a tall blonde was looking at me a lot at the back, Estee was in her element with a big crowd, Foxy too was great. I went back upstairs to sit a while and saw so many sexy girls there, the one in little red bra & knickers & devil’s horns, Emilia?, a really beautiful girl smoking looking a bit like Samantha/Maria Moore. Sandra? Anna was the blonde girl from Boulevard. It closes at 1 with last admission at 1230, and I thought I might go back but didn’t. The films did not look good at Sunset but I stayed anyway. Upstairs I walked in and saw man sitting there with massive big fat cock, the fattest I have ever seen. The Hot Rod Blue adverts near the end were the best thing (Wicked Weapon, Rich Man’s Bitch), and I was really close to exploding, even after a total of six beers. The start of The Power of Love was good with Taylor St Claire and I knew I had to leave. I tried Demi, upstairs from Demi (with a Kay lookalike who said goodbye really nicely who I might go back for), Pamela’s room with a Cristina M Bell lookalike, then Lydia. I am saying nothing more except that she looked beautiful, especially at the end as she sat on bed waiting for me to dress with her hair down, black mascara running around her eyes. “Why did you come back?”

Great depression when I woke this morning (19th Nov 2006)

Great depression when I woke this morning. Rejected by Pamela, —–, just used by Lydia to get her passport. Lydia does look so good, though, she turned me on so much. If we go to the swimming pool & sauna this month, I will not be able to resist trying to f–k her in the steam room! 

Huge pressure in my chest. Pamela’s rejection has saddened me.

I think I now see that Olga has always reminded me of Lydia from Despair (16th Nov 2006)

I think I now see that Olga has always reminded me of Lydia from Despair, and that was a great deal of her appeal to me.