I wake up midnight with an iron hard erection [30th August 2006]

I wake up midnight, with an iron hard erection. An incredible serendipity. I want European porn again. The Munich Intercity films, the Munich Atlantic City and Sexyland kabins. The Vienna Dorint films. I was dreaming of Kerry Marie a lot. I got the 12:10 bus to Calcutta after a lovely hamburger & fries, without any sleep. Sexy redhead at back in brown jacket & black glasses. Getting on at next stop beautiful black haired Greek looking girl, eyes met, little smile as she squeezed into corner. Pale blue jeans over meaty thighs & bum, pale blue coat, pale blue bandanna headband. White T-shirt. So pretty, got off Vauxhall. Coming into Calcutta just before I left, absolutely mindblowing thick light brown brunette, like Raquel Welch huge hair, red v-neck sweater over massive massive heavy breasts, grey skirt tight over her voluptuous hips & thighs, very self confident ordering her large white wine, sitting at round table behind me. What a sex bomb. I want Sunset again. Black dress Kay. All the money I have spent on strippers and drink this year, and such a small amount on porn cinema & whores. All these Bad Timing and Night Porter pictures form a triumphal way leading to the Ishtar Gate perhaps, of Maria's c*nt. It became clear to me after 1 pint how drink suddenly makes me want to throw my money away. It is such a disinhibitor.****“The paradigm of the romantic bohemian” sitting at the table in the Café am Zoo reading about The Libertines and Pete Doherty in the Observer newspaper, “the outsider painter who pursued his own vision amid a swirl of drugs, alcohol and dissolution”. Oh I cannot wait to get back to Berlin again! If I can achieve this saving, it will be like shaking hands with myself. Sylvia still shines on my horizon higher and brighter and bigger than any other woman. She is a Charlotte Rampling of a woman. In Berlin alone there has been Iga, Diana, Riccarda, Yulia.  “We learnt what our national Church was…a visible testimony of the collective experience of mystery, enshrined by generations in stone and glass. Imagine how we should feel if all the cathedrals were museums. What would be missing? Betjeman gives some hint of what the mysterious something was. It was a something in which, for all his doubts, he most passionately and sincerely believed”. The Arrest of Oscar Wilde in the Cadogan Hotel. “I think I’m excited by extremity. I don’t think of myself as sleazy—I like to think of myself as intrepid. Whether sex, food or going on holiday, whenever I’m confronted by a decision I always do the thing that’ll be the best anecdote.’ Pushing boundaries almost to the point of transgression is his stock in trade, and sex a major topic. ‘I’m just trying to bludgeon ennui,’ he says, ‘trying not to be bored'”. Wouldn’t it be great to always behave myself in London and save it all for Berlin, Vienna, Brussels? Every £50 I spend in London is 74 euros I could use to buy a night in a European hotel. But I have such great memories in London. Cotton and Demi and Pamela. “The smoky Tanz bars of Berlin, where the German public tried to put aside growing concerns about world politics and lose themselves in a seething pit of immorality, decadence and extravagance”.

When I feel so broken and sad like I did last night & now I need to go on from the Scotsman to the cinema to lose myself in porn & that high (2nd October 2006)

When I feel so broken and sad like I did last night & now, I need to go on from the Scotsman to the cinema to lose myself in porn & that high, and on that high, dangerously excited, to go on to see Demi or Pamela. I need to see someone to take my mind off —–. And then straightaway I am right back into my old life and nothing will have changed whatsoever! Friday night 7pm I had another missed call from Olga. I definitely need to lose myself in the spiritual high of porn and whores to get my mind off the intense sadness of my relationship with —–. That means Berlin may have to wait till April or May. I didn’t try to talk to —– or buy her a drink, because I just want things to settle down between us, which started to happen at the end, when she let her body rest against mine & massaged my shoulder, so that I will feel OK about going to see her in Plumstead on the 18th November, which after all is only SIX WEEKS away! 

I am a dreamy boy, who lives in a world of his own. I am Ernest Dowson, seemingly always submerged in a dream. He spent all his money on drink and whores. He suffered the torture of the damned because his beloved Adelaide did not love him back. I need to go to see Demi and Pamela, to try to console me over my broken heart with —–. “I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion” But all the time I am fucking Demi or Pamela it will be really —– I am imagining is beneath me.

How lovely it was lying on the floor of my flat when I got home (28th August 2006)

How lovely it was lying on the floor of my flat when I got home, just doing my newspapers, and I put the anglepoise lamp on for the first time in months. My little nest looked so lovely, with all those books starting to pile up against the wall. I slept on the floor again! I think I actually prefer it on the floor, I seem to sleep a lot longer, and have so many vivid dreams. I did not get up until 645pm again. Before sleeping I was listening to that tape & it was full of the Vienna 2002 songs! Avril Lavigne Complicated, Los Asejere The Tomato Song, Puddle of Mudd, No Doubt Underneath it All. It was amazing to hear them again. At the same time I have been thinking a lot about those great films, the German tramp in the forest with the girl in the fur coat, and at first he exposes himself, then she just touches him a bit, before they are full on fucking in the middle of the forest path where anyone can see them. And the Last Bus to Boobsville. And the women’s hen night party. Incredible memories. This is why I travel. Watching it on your computer is not the same. It needs oxygen to become combustible and erotic and catch into flames. But do I really have to wait so long till December! It will be great to finally get back to ML Revue again. How excited I will be that night, leaving the hotel, and riding the tram up the Gurtel till I get there! How excited I will be on the train to Vienna and arriving at Westbhanhof, and crossing the road to the Dorint! At Christmas time! Progress is slow, it will be such a long time till I get there. All of September, all of October, all of November–is it possible? I will have to go back to Sunset in the meantime, and Demi and Pamela. No, you must wait for Vienna, because I really want to have some spending money when I get there, for the dancing, and the kabins, and the whores. I woke up briefly at 5, just as it started to thunder! Then lash with rain. That was lovely. If only I did not also have to come to work. Just one more night to get through! I want to see Volver, Snakes on a Plane, Scanner Darkly, the Sir John Soanes Museum. Plenty. It can wait a week or two. I have just realised tonight is the Third Anniversary of Powercut Night, Rani If Loving You is Wrong I don’t want to be Right, when the Flying Scotsman really started for me. It is also the second anniversary of Animal Trainer 14 and my second time with Olga. I have found a new place to go in Brussels, the incredible bar of the Hotel Metropol by Le Brouckere, and a new place in Vienna, the Liechtenstein Palace.

For all that talk of big breasts I never really made the most of my opportunities (25th August 2006)

For all that talk of big breasts I never really made the most of my opportunities: Clarisse I never even had a 5 euro dance in my seat & refused to talk to her, Martina, I went with Diana instead, Andrea I just had the £20 option instead of half an hour. I can worry about the sadness and despair of my last trips to Berlin, Munich, Brussels, but I always feel this sadness and despair so it is normal & I should enjoy it! There is a kernel inside my brain that only wants to be stimulated by pornographic films and prostitutes, and will never be able to feel anything in real relationships, so I should just understand that and enjoy it. Isn’t it great that I now feel so happy in myself and so self-confident, I am writing, I have my own place, I am enjoying the pornographic films and the prostitutes the same as ever, and no one can touch me. How beaten down I used to be. Not anymore. I am taunting them with what I enjoy that they cannot. I am flaunting it in their angry faces, more and more. I am provoking them more and more. I am Beethoven. I am genius.
Alcazar Crying at the Discotheque. My God I cannot wait to get back to Vienna again! Back to the Ring! I cannot wait to see Jolanda again. And Melani. Then on to Demi or Pamela. Oh travel is so much the greatest thing.
I try so hard to recreate the sensations I feel when I am on holiday. That feeling drinking beer from my minibar in my Munich hotel room before going to Atlantic City. Or drinking in my Vienna hotel room before going to ML Revue. Or in Berlin before going to BEC and Stuttgarter Platz.

Well, this morning I was able to pay £300 off my Barclaycard. The long road back starts here. I felt so uncomfortable when I came out my flat 930am yesterday morning. I had two pints in the Calcutta before getting the 23:19 home. ENJOY ALL MY TAPES AND MY VIDEOS! WHAT A COLLECTION I HAVE AMASSED!
I lead a strange existence. I read and write for a couple of hours, then sleep for a couple of hours. Listen to some classical music for an hour, then read & write some more, then sleep some more.

What a great life this is. Sleep for a few hours, get up to read and write for a few hours, listen to classical music for a while, sleep some more, for three or four days a week. Even my bad trips still produced interesting experiences. I need complete isolation. Complete peace. Complete solitude. I can only exist in solipsism, and its military wing, Priapism. I enjoyed living in the broken world of strippers and whores. But I fell in love with one of the strippers and started embarrassing myself. I want to write a magazine like Simpliccimus and Die Fackel. Or make my satiric interventions on, for example, BITE, or Openlegs4u. I would restart The Serpent’s Egg either on wildeboy.com or Yahoo360 but I would have to reveal too much about myself. My life revolves around strippers and whores and yet I cannot talk about that. 95% of my life would have to remain hidden under the surface leaving only the tip of the iceberg which is not worth talking about.