Thursday, 31 December 2015

I love the Astral films so much, I can't get enough of them!

I love the Astral films so much, I can't get enough of them!
I miss the pub on these dark afternoons, with the Scottish bloke beside me, getting my 3 pints before heading off to Sunset or Soho Cinema or Astral. No! Please lead a clean life.

Wednesday, 30 December 2015

I was ashamed of going to Astral before Christmas

I was ashamed of going to Astral before Christmas, but it's vitally necessary to do it to release the pressure. November was a big month of sexual tension. I've been fine since then because it released the tension.
Do your duty. Perhaps your duty will make you act differently. Knuckle down and stay at work, for mother's sake. Then I might meet Post Office girl again. I won't sitting at home.

Monday, 28 December 2015

There must be more to life than this

There must be more to life than this: a warm, exciting, loving relationship like me and Post Office girl just could have had. Mother says ------ was saying she loves ------ and gets so upset when ------ sits & cries, because her life is passing her by, for 10 years she's just stood still, there must be more to life than this, ---- is the golden boy, while she gets all the blame, then ------ started crying, she says there must be more than this, ------ says there must be more, then --- started crying, -------- started crying, ---. The whole family seems to be depressed, crying, seeing their life pass them by: what is wrong with this family? ----- depressed, ------ seeing a psychiatrist. Perhaps Post Office girl was depressed, life passing her by, there must be more to life than this. Perhaps she wanted a warm relationship with me.
Lost in my own little world I'm relatively happy.
Winterreise: he's not just miserable, he's crossed over into temporary (?) insanity. That's how I was. I felt I was going mad. Looking back on it, it now seems a tremendously exciting time. Leaving Dr A----- in the snow, December 6th, the hysterical intensity of my grief and despair, the panic that he'd condemned me to 8 months more of it. Looking back, that intensely hysterical feeling seems exhilarating.
"'Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others,' wrote Oscar Wilde in his braver, glory days. 'A new hedonism--that is what our century wants.' Is it this blatant hedonism, this amorality, that give the Pre-Raphaelites and the Decadents such appeal a century later?...This group's escape into sex, drink & drugs has reverberated through the decades."

Sunday, 27 December 2015

My stars say there's been some "special magic" missing this xmas. But not to worry because next year every day will be like xmas

My stars say there's been some "special magic" missing this xmas. But not to worry because next year every day will be like xmas.
In November my libido was in overdrive, I was exploding: better to have gone and released it every couple of weeks, isn't it. How calm I felt after last Wednesday. Repressing it doesn't work. Free it always. Remember last year the gorgeous colour page 3 Star pictures, how that symbolised the joy of that xmas being on the verge of the sexual orgy that I knew 1997 was going to be. Last xmas, I knew I'd come through the depressed blackness, to a new strength and was going to become very sexually bold in 1997. Feel something similar seeing that Star page 3 picture with coloured balloons today.
Post Office girl was beautiful in the old style, 1920s, English society beauty style, one of the hot young things in society. Her face was so delicately beautiful, her body language quite belied her extraordinary beauty. Like she doesn't want anyone to find her beautiful, see how beautiful she is. She will always stay with me, and haunt my dreams. I will look for her everywhere.

What can you do? Any move you make brings you into contact with other people and you have to retreat again [26 Dec 1997]

What can you do? Any move you make brings you into contact with other people and you have to retreat again. ----- ----- trying to force herself on me, and I don't want it. She's a normal social human being. What for the new year? Was there more I could have done at the Post Office, feeling so drawn to the girl as I did? And yet I wanted nothing to do with ----. I decided for my own equilibrium I had to not come out, it was ruthless and may have seemed callous and it may have hurt her feelings. But I was terrified of having to fake some feeling again. Apparently she has some warm feelings for me, this bothers & bewilders me. I have none for her,I wish she would just go and live her life and leave me alone, get the message. Leave me in peace again to think nice thoughts about the Post Office girl who I feel so close to.
So, I repeat, what for next year? It is important to remember, I only wrote to the Post Office job because I thought the Job Centre were going to interrogate me, and I said after training I dreaded going back, but then I would never have met Post Office girl. I feel it was quite an important meeting for me; even such tenuous relationships as this create such a powerful shift in my brain and assume huge personal significance for me, she has been written into the history book of my life, she has entered the pantheon of my goddesses, a whole new pocket industry of associations have been set in action, cogs and levers are crashing into life again, a thrilling new muse for me to miss and yearn for and mourn.
But if you try and repeat the trick deliberately, and go back to the Post Office, it won't work, and will be awful. You can't make the magic happen.

After my 1½ hours training at the Post Office, I dreaded having to go back [25 Dec 1997]

After my 1½ hours training at the Post Office, I dreaded having to go back. But then I never would have met Post Office girl, one of the rare special people in my life. She has joined the pantheon. The people I could imagine having a relationship with.

Wednesday, 23 December 2015

Monday, 21 December 2015

I feel so lonely missing a girl’s affection

I feel so lonely, missing a girl’s affection. “Rescued from the darkness inside his shell, by a woman who absolutely adored him. The knowledge that Beethoven never gave up the struggle to hear his music” like my struggle to feel emotion. My desire for Post Office girl makes me want to return to Astral, and abandon myself again. “Why don’t you grow up and face things.” I don’t want to be close to people. Letters from ----- irritate me, any contact from – irritates me. I want them to just go away.

Wednesday, 16 December 2015

Live like Nero and Caligula, pleasuring myself

Live like Nero and Caligula, pleasuring myself.
The waves of nothingness that come over me.
"Reich stressed the importance of constant genital gratification": WR Mysteries of the Organism.


Sunday, 13 December 2015

Left in charge of the orgasmotron, how exciting

Left in charge of the orgasmotron, how exciting.
From Victorian Britain I like Aubrey Beardsley, pre-Great War Vienna, Egon Schiele, from 1920s Berlin Otto Dix and George Grosz, Helmut Newton, etc, from Second Empire Paris Manet's Olimpia and Zola's Nana: that is why I must go back to Astral. The strange, louche world.
Go to the Tate.


Saturday, 12 December 2015

If I cross the Rubicon and return to Sunset Strip Wednesday I can return to some normal life

If I cross the Rubicon and return to Sunset Strip Wednesday, I can return to some normal life. I miss the vitality of the pub and Astral and Sunset. Coming out with the naughty frisson of having done something illicit. Looking through my newspaper diary, there is something missing: sexual gratification. It is needed. The lurid sexually explicit life. Thursday, going to see The Game, then pub, then Sunset was good wasn't it. Astral and Sunset is so vital! Rude, dirty, shameful, but vital. Get really drunk again in the pub, and have an evening out, we all need that: let your hair down.

Friday, 11 December 2015

I can't get away from the fact that I do want to go back to pub, Stellar, and Dix

I can't get away from the fact that I do want to go back to pub, Stellar, and Dix. It's been good to show that I can do it, I can resist it for 43 days, but now it's time to go back to normal life.

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

Looking back at Debbie Flett's Devil or Virgin

Looking back at Debbie Flett's Devil or Virgin, red dress Monday at Stellar, T Baker in leopardskin bikini, The Game Thursday at Dix & mode: wasn't it vibrant, and vital? I go to work, I go to group psychotherapy once a week, I go to Soho sex cinemas & clubs. The period since has been grey, strained, stultifying and trembling with repression. I like sex! Sexually titillating girls at the Dix club, sexually explicit girls in the porn films. I like watching it, quite casually that is who I am.
HAVE ONE DAY EVERY XMAS WHEN I LET MYSELF GO: one day ripped out of my life. Pub, Dix, Stellar. Van Gogh needed regular hygiene visits to the brothels of Paris: where he and Toulouse Lautrec slept and danced with the girls. We are artists, outcasts, we exist in the demi-monde. IT IS CABARET, it is a show. Wedekind. The mucky, sleazy, gutter of life, you need to get into it every now and again. I love the casual bikini-clad models strolling around in just little knickers and bra.

I am a vampire, I come from a different world to them [8 Dec 1997]

I am a vampire, I come from a different world to them.
Whenever I feel threatened, and start to shrivel up: STOP! DON'T!

Just the naughtiness of Stellar is so tempting! I now hereby choose the alternative life!! [7 Dec 1997]

Just the naughtiness of Stellar is so tempting! I now hereby choose the alternative life!! I reject -------- Sorting Office, I choose the life, vitality, of Stellar, Dix. That is all someone of my species can do. I'd rather be proud to be an autistic person, then permanently ashamed to be a pathetically inadequate social person. Better to reign in hell, than serve. I came out and think I'm proud, I don't deserve to be sneered at all the time, so I will be proud. Stand proud in Stellar with my cock out. Make the game my real life!
Helmut Newton! Parade! Yellow shop. Beardsley, Venus masturbating her unicorns every morning!

Monday, 30 November 2015

I AM A VAMPIRE

I AM A VAMPIRE. It is a happy, healthy release from the pressure. The erotic smorgasbord! Berlin 1928. Berlin Babylon. Find a black-haired Italian girl there.
My vampirism is always there under the surface: bloodsucking.
I like being rampantly erotic in Soho, shoulders back, head up, Wedekind smiling in black hat & cloak, the dark prince.
The Grand Tour, the sexuality of Italy, all the red erupting volcanoes, that August-December last year. This year that of the Symbolist Pre-Raphaelites, women's lubricity, self-love. My erotic life is the only one of interest. But it can't be with other people. They're so normal, and conventional, and social. I yearn to break free to the sex of Soho, the vampires of the Theatre des Vampyrs. Harmless entertainment.
Trying to be a normal person I will always be feeble; as a vampire I will always be strong.

Friday, 27 November 2015

Sex is good, sex is healthy. Nothing erotic, and sexually stimulating is bad

Sex is good, sex is healthy.  Nothing erotic, and sexually stimulating is bad. The more erotic stimulation the better e.g. the Kinsey biography, the sensual, erotic, decadent Pre-Raphaelite Symbolists. Beautiful girls at Dix and Boulevard: I like the sex dancers. Ruth St Denis inspired Egon Schiele. Anita Berber inspired Otto Dix.
I've had a long erotic abstinence, but what have I gained: my brain being eaten away.
EGON SCHIELE FREEDOM & RELIEF, no erotic repression.
My New & Stellar visit in September cleared the blockage and got me moving again.
It is an injection of life blood, regular shots to keep the red blood hot & flowing, and the brain on the edge of illicit shame & stimulation, bubbling along: it helps my creativity.
I feel stronger now because of Dr S-----: I'm not brave enough to go back to work on my own.
Up to October 31st was a thin, nervous, stressful time; since November 1st it has been a much stronger time.
Pornography is my secret, shameful addiction: I've tried to break away from it several times.
"Larsson: at the shoulder of this bluff, good-humoured and ever capable old master stood an observer of altogether darker nature, a man of pessimism and unease, anguish, depression, grief and insecurity, burdened with the hint of madness and a 'hidden horror of life' (his words) that occasionally came out of hiding."
"Symbolism, the most literary, sensual, erotic, decadent (even degenerate and depraved), mysterious and melancholy movement in the whole history of art...The first room of the exhibition is full of these ideal creatures--Helen of Troy, Lilith, Mary Magdalene and The Beloved--all of the same kind, no matter who played painter, all of a brooding lubricity that unsettles a man schooled in sexual restraint and the belief that the lasciviousness of women is a fire of damp kindling."
"She sees a connection between the Dracula of Bram Stoker's novel, and the mythical figure of the Wandering Jew. She also sees another link between the noctural Count and the Whitechapel serial killer Jack the Ripper. The Jack-Drac narrative, she writes, plays out a 'constellation of similar fears, raging from syphilis to alien invasion'. She also throws in homosexuality, feminism, decadence and imperial decline: something for everyone....Women can be bad and wicked in Gothic. Gothic is all about transgression, dealing with taboos." Why can't I visit Soho every week, like I did during the Grosz period? Looking at that picture of Talyn, I do want to go back, don't I? Stellar & Dix.
The biggest thing in my life is pornography. Philip Larkin had his pictures. Wagner had his erotic urges, which produced Tannhauser, Tristan & Isolde, etc. It is necessary fortnightly hygiene: Van Gogh did it. So I like sex films, that's the way it is. BACK TO BERLIN, 1890s, WITH A VENGEANCE!


Concentrate on the higher side of Oscar Wilde now [26 Nov 1997]

Concentrate on the higher side of Oscar Wilde now. They foam & froth, and try to punish me because I'm different. I remain their superior, with blithe disregard for their small, petty desperations.
I'm beautiful, I'm a dark angel, that's why I can go to Stellar and do what I want. Don't drink though. I do want Stellar again, and I do want Dix. It is Christmas. No.

I'm still weak, like 1869 Paris [25 Nov 1997]

I'm still weak, like 1869 Paris.

Jacqueline Bisset in a white T-shirt in The Deep [24 Nov 1997]

Jacqueline Bisset in a white T-shirt in The Deep, that's why I go to New & Stellar.
My chest is nervous, and gripped with tension, and excitement, because I'm going back to Stellar & pub. Keep earning a bit more money and keep on going to London. Just that. I'm a sleazy person, in Berlin, that's the way it is.
To lose myself in Stellar for a full 5 hours, what a luxury!
H.C.'s pink lace stare (so like Nana) will always remind me of dark black windy September afternoon, 1992, when I first went down Dean Street. I will always go  back because of that. Sex is all there is to life: New[gone]/Stellar[gone]/Dix/Boulevard[gone]: I will remain in Soho permanently: that is what I work for.


Now I wish I'd gone to see Floria Tosca [23 Nov 1997]

Now I wish I'd gone to see Floria Tosca, sitting at the back of the balcony in my usual seat, seeing my gods from a respectful distance, my angels: but there was no one in F.Tosca I was mad about. But I should have gone all the same.

I can go to Dix, Stellar, New, Boulevard [21 Nov 1997]

I can go to Dix, Stellar, New, Boulevard: because I'm young, free, and single. I'm not cheating on anyone. I'm attracted to that side of life: the sleazy side. I find inspiration in its vitality, and colours and music.
Pure sensation. Don't have to talk.
I love the naked breasts of the girls at the Italian club, I love the naked breasts of the girls at the Boulevard. That's it. I love it. It is intoxicating, that sex-dancing world.
Liberate myself from such restraints, and learn to love the hour of the flesh.


"Collective lust roared unashamed at the theatres": Berlin 1928, Paris 1860, London 1997 [20 Nov 1997]

"Collective lust roared unashamed at the theatres": Berlin 1928, Paris 1860, London 1997. They are beautiful girls in the films. Wouldn't it satisfy my curiosity if I just went to Stellar and did it? What good does it do, boasting proudly how long I've lasted, 20 days, 21 days, if I'm being eaten away inside my brain every day. Like Toulouse Lautrec, make myself at home among the sex cinemas and sex dancing. The colours & intoxication & pounding music can fuel me, give me energy.
I love the openness & relaxation of the girls in the sex films like Egon Schiele loved his models.
I tried giving up sex cinemas and clubs but I couldn't, it would just be on my mind.
The more I try & resist, the weaker I become. How strong I felt the day after New's shame, how strong I felt the day after Stellar and red room--it is a strong part of my life.
The strong relief that comes from the day after going though! The joy of vampirism Jemma Redgrave Monday, the joy of vampirism purple Stephen Fry Monday! Rampantly return to vampiric cinema again, rampantly return to Jemma Redgrave/Stephen Fry Mondays.
Your injunction to me to "do something" takes me in the opposite direction to that what I think I want to go: as I sail down this "do something" river I feel the sense of danger increasing, the sense of being up a creek without a paddle, and moving full speed away from the main river to my destination and the territory I know increasing. But, this is my problem. I wouldn't want to bore you with my problems. I must make this choice for myself, of course.
Haunt the balconies of the Coliseum.
I've become sex-obsessed this year, more morphine-addicted than ever.
I am nothing without the sleazy nightlife, don't just go to musicals, opera, cinema, I do want Boulevard, and New/Stellar. So it's my little naughty vice: everyone needs to let off pressure. I've done nothing today, because I wasted it, consumed by sinful desire, so better to have gone and gone it, and been relaxed for the next few days: do what you need to do: a little of what you fancy.
It is my project. "Theo had quietly adjusted to Parisian nightlife and the 'hour of the flesh'". Your sexuality is your most powerful force: you must indulge it. Remember that girl watching me as I read the Eric Cantona headline:  how thrilling to turn by her and go in sex cinema. The day after going, I made such huge progress, because I'm no longer preoccupied by thinking should I go or not. IT IS VITAL RELEASE VALVE FOR ME AS A WRITER. The vampirism returns! I've got a crippling addiction. Laudanum-head, like Miranda Richardson in Kansas City.
"They are the typical ramblings of a drug user eager for a fix but without the means to pay....But the previously unseen letters show that as well as his desperation to acquire the drug, he also shared the addict's paranoia about his habit. Although Coleridge's habit was widely known--one reference book describes it as a 'crippling addiction'--the letters reveal the large quantity of opium he took...Coleridge admitted two years before he died that despite repeated attempts, he had never broken his addiction, describing it as the 'poison, which for more than 30 years has been the guilt, debasement, and misery of my existence'. Sotheby's specialist Peter Beal said 'These letters offer a  particularly vivid and rare first-hand glimpse of the compulsive habits and routine of one of the most famous drug addicts in literary history.'" This hysteria of erotic excitement. The sleaziness of life is its vitality.

Thursday, 26 November 2015

Last night in bed I comprehensively decided against going to Boulevard/New [19 Nov 1997]

Last night in bed I comprehensively decided against going to Boulevard/New. Now this morning, putting on my tape, I straightaway want to go back to see the dancing girls. Isn't it terrible. This sexual festering disease in my brain, that Manu battled with, Dali, Lorca; so accept it, everyone of artistic temperament has it.
I love the noisy sexy music and the girls stripping and dancing to it. In a debauched Parisian, Bohemian way.
Even the Helmut Newton books turn me off now: I've had too much. Didn't go to pub and Stellar, regretted it on train home. Perhaps I should have done. Better to let it out. Train girl wasn't there. Quite relieved. Perhaps she doesn't work there anymore, or gets a different train. Isn't there a lack of vitality, though, by not going? The shame speeds things up: Stellar, New, Boulevard. You need to indulge, taste the mixture, inject it into your veins.
The urge inside my brain to be alone is so overwhelming, and so driving, so central, so demonic. Peel all the layers away and what you get down to in the core is this urge to be alone. That's what obliterates my life, it is the black hole drive machine in the centre of me.
Egon Schiele: cocks out: sitting in front of nude girl in stockings masturbating smiling: sitting in front of mirror: sitting in Stellar cinema. "Lautrec drawn to everything vital and beautiful:" what is more beautiful than an erect straining cock sticking out of trousers in Stellar? "and so he was addicted to the lively colourful activities of the demi-monde." The inspiration comes from the rotting stuff in the gutter: "and so Soho, with everything that belonged to it, became a second home to him...he saw stars rising & falling in the cabaret heaven and found an inexhaustible source of inspiration for his work... But now he revelled in everything that Parisian night life had to offer his artistic eye: dance, theatre, circus and brothel. He became the interpreter and chronicler of this small world where it must be added, man in his individuality always remained in the forefront for him." I'm fascinated by the men with their penises out in Stellar, the sexual tension.
My favourite painters are painters of prostitutes: Manet, Grosz, Dix, Lautrec, Schiele.
I am the interpreter and chronicler of the small world of Soho: New and Stellar tomorrow. Men with their cocks out.
Regain a healthy relaxation about the demi-monde, prostitutes, sex-dancers, actresses.


What else have I got? I like the cold baleful stare back of the models [18 Nov 1997]

What else have I got? I like the cold baleful stare back of the models, like Manet's Olympia, or any of Egon Schiele's models. He painted them to explore his own sexuality. I write about the strip clubs. I've had a sad life, that's not my fault, I need the colour & vitality of strip clubs and cinema. Because relationships are grey and indistinct.
Zola and Manet didn't live in the sleazy prostitute realism of Paris 1860s just for a nine month project, the same vein occupied them for years. Vampirism will occupy me for years.
The summer months were so empty because I was looking for some substitute for pornography to keep me occupied, failing, and entering the black hole. I only came out with my September visit to Stellar & New, leading to Berlin 1890s idea.
I have a grand ambition, but now I must return to work and earn lots of money to finance it.
Do something useful with my life: does this mean going to work, or writing my book?
I am a strong powerful spy, and the girls who want to love me (seduced by my mystery & glamour) must wait and be frustrated.
For a writer, my models (like Manet's Olympia and Schiele's models) are the girls at the clubs: they don't come to my studio and lie there while I paint them: I go to them and write about them when I get home.
Thursday 30th October, at Dix then (very briefly) in New, was a disaster because I went so deliberately and nervously and premeditatively, trying to fix the emotion beforehand, instead of relaxing and remaining very detached and light. I went looking for something and so didn't find it. Going with no expectations and with no sense of its importance, but simply as a time-filler, it is much more enjoyable and sensation-rich.
So instead of no more going, go very very many times now before Christmas: Boulevard, Stellar, New, Dix. For one day, I stop being me. I hang my normal uniform up here and go out in sinful disguise. My history resumes the next day. It is a page I tear out in advance. Tomorrow is one such "stopped" day, releasing me to do whatever my impulses demand, like the Claridges hotel room was made Yugoslav territory for one night only by king's decree.


Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Don't be weak, I am strong

Don't be weak, I am strong. I want to continue to wear my ---- jumper & ----- jeans, and I will do so. Like Einstein, Karl Marx, Picasso, F.G.Lorca. That's all right, you hold on to yourself.
Feynman went and enjoyed stripclubs while working on his quantum physics calculations book. If I had a big book to set beside me, I would be permitted to have erotic tastes in porn films and strip clubs, like Wedekind, Einstein, Toulouse-Lautrec.
I want to do lots of xmas shopping Wednesday, back to pub for a much needed drink and read of my Evening Standard, and of course my xmas visit to the Boulevard gentleman's club.

Sunday, 15 November 2015

Saturday, 14 November 2015

It's been a lurid sexually explicit year

It's been a lurid sexually explicit year. Berlin babylon. Perhaps I should stop getting the Star, that sets the agenda and refuses to let my mind concentrate on more serious things.
Let's face it, I'm doing what I want. But I miss companionship.
You've got to come up with an act, to come out from behind the curtains at the side of the stage with.

Friday, 13 November 2015

I want to enter that Berlin melting pot

I want to enter that Berlin melting pot: decadence, sin, pornography, sexual exploration.
£30 is too much for a book--except one by me.
The lure of Soho will never go away. DO go to sex films and sex dancers before football nights and opera nights.

Wednesday, 11 November 2015

They're very kind invitations but they obviously made the mistake of thinking I am a human being

They're very kind invitations but they obviously made the mistake of thinking I am a human being.
I do love the Soho Cinema/Astral Berlin 1920s sex films. I do love the Boulevard/Sunset Strip Berlin 1920s sex dancers. Paris, Renoir, female nudes, 1880s. Berlin, Dix/Grosz, prostitutes, 1920s.

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Going to strip clubs is all I want to do. Sexual watching [10 Nov 1997]

Going to strip clubs is all I want to do. Sexual watching. Like Salvador Dali. Fear and shame. Where is my Gala? Every time you said talk to people, you panicked me again, and made me feel tense.
How can I make something successful of my life, rich, interest in joining an accountancy course. "I hope you do something". I like the Soho Cinema & Astral films, and Boulevard & Sunset Strip: it is my shameful secret. It is Egon Schiele Monday night feeling. I love stripping and getting my cock out in public. It is a strong, powerful thing.
Get myself into situations where I can be with real people again, be successful, make money: the poison of my autistic tendencies needs to be purged. It is now the anniversary of our last meeting, exactly a year ago today. "See you later" were your last words to me. I know about the sleazy side of Soho life. I am the cynical observer. Like Wedekind, Toulouse-Lautrec, Egon Schiele, Van Gogh, Dali: I like the sleazy side.

The thrill it would be to see black-haired princess passing by my window now [8 Nov 1997]

The thrill it would be to see black-haired princess passing by my window now, like a month ago. The sexiness of her stare in pink lace picture. That is why I go back to Dix [Sunset Strip] and Boulevard [closed 2013], New [Soho Cinema closed 2013] and Stellar [Astral Cinema closed 2000]. I want to see train girl again.
To go up xmas shopping, see a film, then come home, is so unbelievably boring: I have to go on to Boulevard or blue film.
I'm exploring pornography, I'm exploring my own sexuality: like Egon Schiele. Toulouse-Lautrec. Wedekind.
She said it's up to me to tell her what help I need and she will try to provide it: I'm clarifying it for you, so you can further improve your assistance. If we can diagnose the problem better we can treat it better, do you think.

Monday, 9 November 2015

They're ugly, they open their mouths and ugliness comes out [7 Nov 1997]

They're ugly, they open their mouths and ugliness comes out, they want to smear me with their ugliness because they resent me for my beauty and my intelligence and my serenity. They hate me for being happy in myself. Well, I'm sorry, but I can give them no satisfaction. They destroyed Oscar Wilde, but they will never destroy me, I'm terribly sorry for them. They want to take my serenity away from me, well I'm very sorry for them, but they haven't got the ability to be able to succeed. They must continue to be frustrated.
"I'm educated. I have my own take on life, on my sport. Whatever people say or do won't make me change--I'll only change what I want." [Eric Cantona].
"This strategy is consonant with the tendency of Weimar society in general to test continually the limits of sexuality in relation to legal (or moral) jurisdiction. The cultural artifacts of the Weimar Republic evince a fascination with sexual transgression and the violation of traditional taboos through the exploration of pornography, prostitution, androgyny, homosexuality. Modernity to the Berlin of the mid-1920s entails a sexual expressivity outside the constraints of love or convention. Sexual secrecy--aligned with the bourgeois repression confronted by the newly popular psychoanalysis--is annihilated in an excessive exhibitionism. Accounts of Berlin, such as the following by Stefan Zweig, were common: 'Berlin transformed itself into the Babel of the world'."
I am exploring pornography, like Egon Schiele.
The sexual tension of New [Soho Cinema] and Stellar [Astral Cinema]. Seeing that blonde big breast girl on Rory Bremner I want the pretty sexy girls at Boulevard again: Monday? And Dix again. In the sad spirit of Wilde (the ending) go see Dix again and Boulevard, New & Stellar, remembering sadly seeing train girl on train that morning.


I'm envious of Sarah because she's got a life, she's got a career, she's got money, she's got relationships [6 Nov 1997]

I'm envious of Sarah because she's got a life, she's got a career, she's got money, she's got relationships.
It is nice to get a bit drunk and go and do something like Sunset Strip or Astral Cinema at Xmas time. Relaxed, not knowing who's going to be there now, not caring. It is only when you don't know that it is sexy. Every week becomes a pressured shaming unhappy thing. Not going this week was very good, next week before football is much better. Go to Boulevard because I don't care, return to Sunset in December. It is a xmas L.A.Confidential (Wednesday?). Then I enjoy the pub and the club with all my xmas presents in my bag. No going to Sunset and Astral for the sake of it, that's why it's disappointing and unhappy, I never used to do that, I only went to London for 2 or 3 days xmas shopping and went to Sunset and pub while I was there to make full use of the train ticket. Go back to that again: only before Chelsea games, or after xmas shopping.
The greatest tragedy of my life is that I was ever sent to school, from 4½ to 16. That set the seal on my life, that put the nail in the coffin. Poor old Louise is to be buried in prison for 15 years, I was buried in school for 12 years. It's not the sort of thing people can easily recover from. The psychological damage is permanent.

Wedekind's controversial writing embraced Freud's thesis that civilisation is based on the suppression of the most basic human instinct: the erotic [4 Nov 1997]

"Wedekind's controversial writing embraced Freud's thesis that civilisation is based on the suppression of the most basic human instinct: the erotic. He preached a 'revival of spiritual sensuality and bodily pleasure'--an unattainable freedom of the flesh that outraged late Victorian morality...Wedekind also practiced what he preached. He delighted in scandalising the fin-de-siecle bourgeoisie with his capes and extravagant Mephistophelian garb, and he kept company with avant garde artists and con-artists, prostitutes and petty criminials. He loved bordellos, opium dens, and particularly the circus."

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Louise-Brooks-Biography-Barry-Paris/dp/0816637814

To Louise the city's erotic smorgasbord was the most pervasive and intriguing attribute of 1928 Berlin [4 Nov 1997]

"To Louise, the city's erotic smorgasbord was the most pervasive and intriguing attribute of 1928 Berlin, 'where the ruling class publicly flaunted its pleasures as a symbol of wealth and power.' No account of the city's sexuality at that time is better than her own:
Sex was the business of the town. At the Eden Hotel, where I lived, the cafe bar was lined with the higher-priced trollops. The economy girls walked the street outside...Collective lust roared unashamed at the theatre. In the revue Chocolate Kiddies, when Josephine Baker appeared naked except for a girdle of bananas, it was precisely as Lulu's stage entrance was described by Wedekind: 'They raged there as in a menagerie when the meat appears at the cage.'"

Monday, 2 November 2015

I don't think you should try turning me into a pale copy of someone else

I don't think you should try turning me into a pale copy of someone else, I think you should help me be whoever I am to the nth degree. Help me realise my full potential locked up inside me. Forcing me to become one of the morons at work is rather forcing me in the opposite direction. Your words are such alien sentiments to me. I don't mean to be critical, but you come out with things which to me are so alien.
I said I'm not saying you're wrong and I'm right, I'm just putting down some subjects I wish we could have talked about; in the end I might agree with your point of view, but I still would have liked the chance to discuss the subject, test the proposition: I am speculating, like in a debating chamber. But I felt such debates weren't allowed, we couldn't test alternative propositions, I just had to swallow your orders to talk to people at work.
My illness is a warm, living thing, it's been my only companion, and you just want to cut it off and turn it out the door. I'm attached to my illness, it keeps me warm and safe; if you love me, you must love my illness and stroke it and cuddle it, not say very sorry, no illnesses allowed in here, that's got to be thrown away immediately. It's the illness or me, this room's not big enough for the both of us. You're like a new friend who refuses to allow me to still see my old lifelong friend, who's been with me through thick & thin. I want to love you too but you're ruthless in  not allowing my friend into the realtionship, it makes it very hard for me. You force me to make a choice, give up my lifetime friend for (after I've stopped seeing you) apparent nothingness. I can't help feeling this is an unfair and unrealistic demand. I want to have both of you together, so I can go into the future a bit strengthened, not feeling more vulnerable, and alone.
My illness is the most fascinating thing in my life, it is my black hole drive machine, I love it more than any human being almost: something in me cannot allow you to smash it and destroy it.

Sunday, 1 November 2015

Where can I get the joy of yellow Dee Ivens Boulevard day?

Where can I get the joy of yellow Dee Ivens Boulevard day? Face it the sexual sap will always rise, and I will always be tempted back to Soho Cinema & Astral & Boulevard. I love Soho Cinema and Astral because I can get my cock out and rub it till it's wet and sticky.
I start at -2, the advice you give me is for someone who is already at 0. Soho brought a route out of the impasse, but is not an answer in itself once the impasse is negotiated. I do love the sex films!
The Berlin sleazy nightlife goes on, it is early days yet.
I need to pull my life back from the sexual abyss, but not just yet. Because there's nothing else. The sex is always there underneath, sir, it will never go away. I've got lots of Astral & Boulevard & Chandos to look forward to after cinema.
What was wrong about Thursday night? Nothing. It was fun. Powerful and priapic.
The days between visits to Soho are marked by nothing but sexual tension. The day I go is just shame. The sexual charge of going to Soho Cinema/Astral is so much more than than Sunset Strip. Boulevard?
The sleaze of LA Confidential will be perfect for going to pub and somewhere afterward.
I love the secrecy of Astral & Soho Cinema. Now winter is here, I want to spend the whole winter in the sex cinemas in the mist and blackness.

Saturday, 31 October 2015

How strongly and how repeatedly Soho Cinema and Astral turned me on

How strongly, and how repeatedly, Soho Cinema and Astral turned me on, and how little Sunset Strip does. Watching the girls at close quarters, I thought how sexy I would find this sight now if it was on a screen now and I could be rubbing my cock in the dark. Perhaps £6 spent in Soho Cinema without staying wasn't a mistake: the sexual tension in Soho Cinema and Astral is incredible. In Sunset Strip so non-existent, dry, dusty & polite. Soho Cinema & Astral is wet and sticky and there are slopping sounds, dicks sticking out of trousers and being rubbed gently: how sexy it is! Like Oscar Wilde found rent boys exciting, I find the cocks out in Soho Cinema & Astral exciting. I should have stayed in there yesterday with my £6 ticket: Sunset Strip was the mistake.
The September blackness: it was only the visit to Soho Cinema and the visit to Astral that improved me, brought relief, blood pulsing back through my veins, excitement to lift me out of the blackness: and then just the prospect of going back again sustained me for the next 3.5 weeks, that heart pounding, illicit excitement. You need something to make the blood pulse through your veins, and stimulate you: if you haven't got a relationship then you need Soho Cinema & Astral.
The nerves and excitement of doing something illicit & shameful. The only thing that helped me get through  the death and the funeral was the thought I'd rush back to Soho straight afterwards. It is my peace, my relaxant, my chocolate after the medicine. To escape from relationships, I go to sex cinemas. How dull & useless I feel in relationships.

Friday, 30 October 2015

No more Soho Cinema, Astral & Sunset Strip: never again

No more Soho Cinema, Astral & Sunset Strip: never again. Big breast blonde is very big-breasted but that's all. Blonde in leather miniskirt, top & cap trod on my knee a couple of times and apologised. Wasted £6, that's all.
Be powerful, and Priapic. Today was all right. The end of Wilde was very good, Stephen Fry with his hair cut short, hiding behind a pillar to get a look at Bosie, and he says how dull his heart is now, looking at that golden hair.Then it ends. Very moving end, prison till the end. In pain. How he threw it away for nothing.
When will Castlewood call? This is a new start, from today onwards.
Miranda Richardson: hold on to her. Real relationships, they are impossible.

Thursday, 29 October 2015

I can't wait to get back to Soho Cinema and Astral Cinema and Sunset Strip

I can't wait to get back to Soho Cinema and Astral Cinema, and Sunset Strip: masturbate my life away like Salvador Dali. I love the thrill of being in those places with all those men.
I'll be glad when the bill is paid, the money is out of the house, and I can go out without worrying again. I miss Carnival Strip. The Boulevard is soulless and too open. Sunset Strip is all that's left. But good at Christmas. There's Soho Cinema and Astral.
Berlin 1890s isn't reality. Egon Schiele isn't reality. Returning to Sarah isn't reality. Only going to work every  morning is reality.
The power I felt in the ----- today, because I felt however they tried to attack me, I was still powerful and strong, and invincible to them forever. So, Wilde and Sunset Strip and Tosca.
Go back sexily, powerfully to work, and enjoy the dynamics I set in motion again: be a notetaker, a biographer of the reactions. Like Ranulph Fiennes went to the North Pole, write my book for Foyles when I get back: like I enjoyed my sexy, powerful dynamics at Post Office: blonde Tanya, blonde Maggie O'Neill on bus, grey miniskirt black legal secretary (x2), sexy Nicola A. Thiessen, Irish girl, all the sexy girls on the train back. I miss the sexy, powerful dynamics!

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

The inner voice telling you to follow your secret ambition and never let go

The inner voice telling you to follow your secret ambition and never let go, because there's nothing else left. Or the voices telling you to be real and socialise and become normal, in every way, just like them. I want you to help me find a way to live.

"Years of doing a certain thing in a certain way doesn't make it right. Times have moved on, and unless you move on now and make reforms to your home life or personal world, you could see a collapse taking place that can be easily avoided by embracing change."

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

If I could go back in time and this time not have to go to school

If I could go back in time and this time not have to go to school, but have a tutor, the years 4 to 16 could have been the most fantastic years of my life. Instead of permanent frozen terror which have shaped the way I am now. I think this is the biggest source of regret in my life. If I'd not been sent to school, my childhood could have been wonderful. If I could have had a weekly tutor like you, all through my childhood. I said I wish I could see you every week for the rest of my life.
--------- Hill was not there this morning. I looked toward it but it was gone. Just grey mist where it used to be. I saw the railway bridge then mist. This is the day I posted the letter to Sarah last year.
A warm relaxed 12 years could have given me time to follow my subjects, grow organically, and give me time to think. The trouble with permanent frozen terror is you never have time to think, the permanent frozen terror goes on forever.
A plant in the open for 12 years will freeze and die. A plant kept in the warm for 12 years will grow big and strong. I feel so bitter at people when I go to work; they already stole 12 years of my life from me. Can't I be allowed to be warm now? When contact with people is so painful, it gets to the point where you think, thanks very much, but I think I've had enough now.
I want to find my way of living: do you have to keep telling me to talk to people? I don't like talking to people. I don't want to talk to people. Is this allowed? Would you mind?
Yes, we're living in exciting times.
Blonde bob big breasts is an artist's model. I could go Thursday before Tosca.


I don't feel so ashamed about my empty life now father's not sitting there [26 October 1997]

I don't feel so ashamed about my empty life, now father's not sitting there. I am more relaxed and free about it.
The excitement and colour of Kansas City last year, marking the return to sin. The relief of that, the feeling that the new year was going to be a year of sex. And so it was, so it has been. But what do I feel at the end of this year? That is more difficult. It seems outdated now, to keep going to Dix and New and Stellar. But what else is there. Just lead a quiet life as much as possible. Enjoy the films, and the opera, and Dix. Meanwhile, keep writing.
What am I tense about? There is nothing to be tense about. I'm free till November 17th. If I had train girl Louise to talk to, how much warmer and fuller my life would be.

"No one could deny that you have been under pressure -- but still you keep coming back for more. And so you should, because current developments are guaranteed to bring out the best in you. Who cares if others insist on springing a few surprises? No one will catch you out. You're well equipped to stay ahead of the game. You will, however, need to conserve energy if you are to keep up the pace for much longer. The trick lies in using the minimum of effort for the maximum effect. Cut corners and lighten your load. You've got a long way to go."


Remember Egon Schiele and go back to Sunset Strip [25 October 1997]

Remember Egon Schiele, and go back to Sunset Strip. And Wilde.
Being at work makes me unhappy. Following my secret desires is marginally better. I can't escape this basic equation, and the solution seems unavoidable.
"La Belle Epoque became a celebration of women's sexuality and beauty, in turn-of-the-century Paris. That acrobatic frenzy of limbs called the Can Can was born, where dancers high-kicked in frilly petticoats flashing glimpses of white flesh between bloomers and stocking tops. Girls drudging as laundresses ten hours a day for peanuts could suddenly have more money and fun by dancing. Star dancers such as the brazen Paris sex symbol La Goulue (the Glutton) emerged--she was the first nude cover girl and became rich and famous. Meanwhile: 'The sinuous moving of a voluptuous body, the open sexuality of an uncorseted woman and the exotic attraction of the mysterious eroticism of the North African coast made the arrival of belly dance a catalyst for the birth of striptease.'"
Go to Sunset Strip often (but briefly): three pints inside me will make even one hour bearable, even if the Glutton isn't there. But I have to keep checking. Fine. Weekly visits to see blonde bob Glutton, like I had weekly visits to see black bob. If I could afford it then, I can afford it now.


I rather enjoy it [24 October 1997]

I rather enjoy it, it makes me feel better, they play into my hands.

"You have hidden ambitions and it is to these you should look and try to advance this Friday. There's no need to be shy or coy as it's possible that whatever your career is may not be where your heart lies. So make a promise to yourself to follow your secret desires."

Thursday, 22 October 2015

I can only communicate by letter now

I can only communicate by letter now. It is like Beethoven slowly went deaf. I slowly lost all sense of emotion.

"You can do as much as you like to resist the inevitable but, like it or not, the dice of life have been rolled and you can do nothing to prevent what is coming at you. It's futile to fight fate, so why bother? Save yourself the pain and in the end you will gain."

Friday, 16 October 2015

Thursday, 15 October 2015

I do like the sleazy club life in Soho

I do like the sleazy club life in Soho, it is comforting and safe, no emotionalism.

Erotic sex dancing: Mata Hari [13 October 1997]

Erotic sex dancing: Mata Hari, 1920s Berlin, Ruth St Denis, Secessionist Vienna, Maud Adams, Anita Berber. What can be better?
I want red room again.
Nothing better than a beautiful woman, dancing to a song, interpreting the music in her own way.


I think the moments looking in to the eyes of gold dress blonde hair Tanya [11 October 1997]

I think the moments looking in to the eyes of gold dress blonde hair Tanya on that volcanic December 14 cauldron night, as she removed the gold dress and let her huge breasts flop around the pole and slide down it with her thighs wrapped around it and her naked pussy rubbing against it, was even more erotic than bob. They were the finest moments of my life. I can only find warmth in this alternative way, rather than conventionally with ----- or ------, it is the monosexualist's way.
Raining all day today. Go back to Sunset Strip in the rain, thinking of gold dress Tanya, her big floppy breasts and long naked thighs. In the spirit of Egon Schiele.

Looking back at September, October, November last year [7 October 1997]

Looking back at September, October, November last year, how stressed and strained they were, trying to hold on to my celibacy and think of Sarah, the relief and naked relaxation of December. Wouldn't it be better to have sex sleazily to take my mind off Sarah? Soho is a relaxed natural outpouring. Sarah is strained, constipated, celibacy. Again these are the two extreme poles and there is nothing in the middle for me, where most people live. I want to go to Soho every single week, that's really what I mean now. I need and want that weekly release. It will become a ritual again. Like every Thursday going to film, pub, then to see black bob, every single week. Resume this again.

In June I felt so embarrassed leaving Stellar [6 October 1997]

In June I felt so embarrassed leaving Astral Cinema, it was written on my face, I was red & ashamed, and everybody could see it. But the last two times I've been strong and powerful. Now be strong and powerful with the prostitutes, 1890s, Moulin Rouge, Toulouse Lautrec, EGON SCHIELE. It is a whole new world I am stepping into. The black & purple Emperor butterfly is about to leave the chrysalis.
Egon Schiele is the most honest, now you be honest. Toulouse Lautrec, Moulin Rouge, 1890s. Then I could have Louise. I went into the prostitutes world of the 1890s to discover the power to enable me to have Louise. I needed sexual power to enable me to cope with the emotions necessary to cope with my need for Louise. This is my Tannhauser, in black & purple, in 1890s Paris. Find out about Tosca.
Back to Grosz again. Enjoy life. Enjoy sex with prostitutes.  But mostly, watch myself like Egon Schiele.


Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Try going to red rooms tomorrow

Try going to red rooms tomorrow: that's the plan. Because I love being naked in the room with the prostitute. Be gleeful, mischievous, relaxed and powerful about it. Because, like Toulouse Lautrec, I prefer going with prostitutes. I totally, openly prefer going with prostitutes, rather than -----, for example. I would happily choose prostitutes every time. Because I love being naked in their rooms. Get up tomorrow, knowing from the first second this is my prostitutes day. The world is my oyster tomorrow. Powerful. Volcano. I am the volcano. Get out of my way. I am Geoffrey Firmin, the Consul. I am Toulouse Lautrec.
I love painting myself naked, like Egon Schiele. I love writing myself naked, and erect, in my pinks, and reds, and purples.
Stop pontificating around in the middle. Go all out with prostitutes, 1890s, Moulin Rouge, Toulouse Lautrec, Egon Schiele, go all out with work, in blue overalls. Discover my power now, discover my volcano.


Monday, 7 September 2015

I feel like Astral & Sunset again

I feel like Astral & Sunset again. "It is false spirituality to neglect things carnal. Real spirituality comes from regeneration of the flesh." The Astral films are Benny Hill films, the Sunset girls are Benny Hill girls. That huge-breasted blonde in black see-through dress is a Benny Hill girl. I want to check that other striptease place. Think about how good Carnival Strip became towards the end. Thursday 18th would be good for Sunset, tomorrow for Astral.
The volcano: to let my spirit burst free in my writing; to let my spirit burst free in a relationship with someone else.
A volcano because I am holding it back. No, because it is blocked, it has no way out.
It will be good to get drunk again in the Chandos, though, won't it, staggering down into the toilets to get my penis out again in increasing anticipation of Sunset Strip I am about to get to, or Astral. I want to go see Woody Allen films in Leicester Square, come back to pub with no intention of staying out, but then a couple of pints later the rising excitement makes me go to Sunset. Tomorrow?


Thursday, 3 September 2015

The death

The death, and the massive pain and outpouring of grief, and the sense of all things paling into insignificance beside tragedy of such magnitude, seems to offer some spiritual rebirth, a sloughing of the tired, old skin, chance to start again. Feel a sense of pride now.

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Angkor is like my brain: vast and lost under the jungle

Angkor is like my brain: vast and lost under the jungle. But can the jungles be cut back? It's been lost under the jungles for -- years. It is a fascinating quest to uncover it and explore it. I am a sort of archaeologist into my own brain. A ------ologist. A 1930s Indiana Jones of the mind.
I'll do it for Diana! What better memorial could there be to her.

Monday, 31 August 2015

Princess Diana has died

Princess Diana has died in a car crash in the D'Alma tunnel under the Seine in Paris, with Dodi Fayed.

Saturday, 29 August 2015

I don't care about anything

I don't care about anything. I just want to go on writing my letters to Sarah. I'll just float along in the world, and waste my life away. I will remain in the ring of fire, where Susan Layton put me. I would rather sting myself than cross the flames.

Thursday, 27 August 2015

"There is no cure for manic depression"

"There is no cure for manic depression. Pagett says that only since January has she recognised that she will only get better if she accepts that she would never be well. She now controls her moods through drug-based self-management. Well enough to recognise the triggers that might lead her back into psychosis, she self-administers a prophylactic accordingly."
"It sounds so fragile, a state of mind dictated by nicotine and too much dancing. But no, she counters, she feels quite unfragile, though it's taken two years to nail it. 'I try not to think...or to feel,' she ponders, sounding a little surprised by her bald statement. Perhaps not to feel too much? 'Perhaps...and not to indulge in it. I've never respected myself until now. If I can deal with this, it's like shaking hands with myself.'"


Wednesday, 26 August 2015

The only way to attain mastery over material malfunctioning is by adopting a more spiritual philosophy

The only way to attain mastery over material malfunctioning is by adopting a more spiritual philosophy.
"You and Virgo are at the butt of the Sun-Pluto square and that is bound to bring out a side of you that you have repressed since childhood. A transformation has been trying to occur since 1995, but circumstances or a resistance to change have meant you've been putting off what you know you must do to find yourself. A metamorphosis is going on deep in your psyche, and you have to go with it, or you'll paralyse your personal growth."

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

I want lots of money so I can go to models all I want

I want lots of money so I can go to models all I want. So I can see new gold dress dancers all I want. Just four more weeks to get through. I can't wait to lose myself in degeneracy, nihilism, Soho again. Those black rainy nights. The orange cauldron.
Stay serene and smiling, like that little old bag lady rustling her carrier bag in the NFT back row. I just want to live in naughtiness and masturbation.

Monday, 24 August 2015

Life has no sense of meaning unless you form relationships within it

Life has no sense of meaning unless you form relationships within it, put some patterns onto the blank canvas. Connections and neurons begin to form grids and helixes and structures. and gradually a form and solidity and recognisable meaning is beginning to form in your life. I have the relationship with my mother, and the relationship with Sarah.
It is unnatural to be with other people. I live on my side of the river of fire.
This summer hibernation, with nothing else to do, I've sunk back into missing Sarah again. Perhaps when September comes and I'm busy doing things again, I'll have new ideas, like Paris 1875 with the reopening of the Garnier opera. I do need to get out and get some visual stimulation again, don't I. My brain is sinking down. I need my one day a week visits to London, pictures, Chandos, Dix, football, opera, etc.
What's the answer? Live like a monk, a holy man, that's the answer. Quietly compile my little stories. Take the pressure off myself. I am Van Gogh. FG Lorca.  Karl Marx. That gives me the right to use the JC money to keep me in peace, to enjoy my bus rides.
Ponder the continuing problem of my life on the black island inside the river of fire.
Don't push myself to be something I'm not, as I'm always tense, and feeling a failure. Isn't that what Sarah did? Enjoy the pictures, bookshops, Dix club, football, in peace and relaxation.
I live in divine time; but everyone is trying to put pressure on you, workmates, bosses, Job Centre. Just do things slowly in your own time. A mysticism.
You've enabled me to get back on my high horse again. I had a nasty fall.

Sunday, 23 August 2015

Saturday, 22 August 2015

Elastic bands snap. I snapped

Elastic bands snap. I snapped. You stretched me too far.
I live in India, in divine time. I am a monk. A holy man. A fakir. If I am to be myself, that means I must be silent.

Friday, 21 August 2015

Sitting here in the hot sticky 8.58 morning heat

Sitting here in the hot sticky 8.58 morning heat, with the birds hooting & chirping & whistling in the lush green fauna out the back, it's like sitting in a house in the jungle, Manaus, the Lost World, before setting off upriver to find something.

Thursday, 20 August 2015

The Justice Ministry is judging myself

The Justice Ministry is judging myself, and it starts out with very big promises of the changes it will be instigating, but then bit by bit it starts to back away from them, until things are allowed to go back how they were before.
Ashamed of myself, I judged myself most viciously. Now I'm starting to like myself again, and I start to think maybe what I did wasn't so bad after all, in fact it was the ONLY right thing to have done! So now the measures I put in place to punish me, and make me alter my future behaviour, have gradually been loosened and exceptions have been allowed more and more, till the restrictions have been virtually removed altogether, and I've gone back to almost exactly the way I was before.
I'm living like a monk, day after day, that's what I want.


Tuesday, 11 August 2015

It was a shame the Carnival Strip club finished before I perfected my wanking technique

It was a shame the Carnival Strip club finished before I perfected my wanking technique. It was the perfect place for it. Pornography and writing, that has been my year. This would be my whole life, if I had the chance. The blonde Sharon in white-ribbed minidress.


Friday, 7 August 2015

I've had a nice quiet monkish day today

I've had a nice quiet monkish day today. I'll have a nice quiet monkish day tomorrow. Resume my totally preoccupied air.
It's like trying to unlock the frozen water under Europa's surface, warm it up, make it flow again, and teem with life. I'm such a long way from the Sun; it is impossible to warm me.


Wednesday, 5 August 2015

If you want to be a writer, you can't talk to anybody

If you want to be a writer, you can't talk to anybody. Total silence. Eyes down, distracted, preoccupied. Be yourself. I've decided now, not to talk to Mr ------ again. I DO WHAT I WANT. BE A MEAN BASTARD.
"Withdrawal from society and inability to interact with people"
I'm in such a safe, protected position.
While reading The Daughter of Fu Manchu in the bath, I found myself thinking sexily of Jo, in the style of Madonna in that black dress; also thoughts of Dr Petrie's big breast wife Kara.
I live a quiet life, like a monk. I'm happy. It is learning how to be happy with very little.


Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Very dark and stormy

Very dark and stormy. Leave it till 12:30, then decide. I do want to look at Maxim, etc. But I just don't want to go out yet! Can't I stay in hibernation for another 4 weeks? I will only miss one round of films.
I want to go back to McDonald's, and Chandos, and pictures, and Sunset Strip, and Astral, and model. But not today. The buzz isn't there. The excitement isn't there. One cold day in the midst of hot ones is not enough, it's got to be when the weather turns for real. The money situation is going to get very hard after October. I should save everything for seeing me through that period.
I'm curious as to what their response to my letter will be. So still the hibernation goes on. It's been 28 days since I've been to London. One near miss with Astral will probably lead to me being desperate to go on Friday, that's the way it normally works. I didn't feel like it today, even when I forced myself. So now I'll regret that missed opportunity and be desperate for the next, to put it right. I spent such a long time in Soho this year, really January-July, I need every minute of this calm period.
I'm a ------ologist. My area of study is myself. An endlessly fascinating study it is, too.
If I want to spend my life going to Astral, Sunset Strip, model, what's wrong with that, and writing my little stories. When the money runs out, fine, go back to work for another 6 months, to earn some more. That 6 months at the Post Office has brought me 12 months of complete privacy and freedom. It's fantastic. Write to the Post Office again in October.
Astral is only good in winter, when you can spend the whole day up there, when it becomes my private kingdom, when you can leave Astral and go on to model, or on to Sunset. I can't wait for September now. 4 weeks. This long August begins now. Starting with the funeral.
All I need is pen & paper, and some plants.


Monday, 3 August 2015

Mother has come back to find the house blooming

Mother has come back to find the house blooming, the front garden, the hanging baskets out the back, the indoor plants.
While reading The Daughter of Fu Manchu in the bath, I suddenly thought sexily of --------, in yellow this morning. And I dreamed of her the other night. She is very sexy.
I also found myself thinking I will go to model again, won't I, with my Fu Manchu fix beforehand, and my 10 minutes in Astral to get me ready.
Depending on the weather I could go to Astral tomorrow.
Been fresh and breezy beneath the warmth all day, and now it's steadily quietly raining.

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Things can only get better from here

Things can only get better from here. Everything is progress. The next job can only be even better. The next period of money in bank freedom can only be even better.

Monday, 27 July 2015

The goal of my life is to keep writing

The goal of my life is to keep writing. Interspersed by pleasant visits to Chelsea, Dix club.


Sunday, 26 July 2015

The relief I found reading Moorcock, you can be fragmented

The relief I found reading Moorcock, you can be fragmented. The relief I found listening to Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern, you can be fragmented. The relief I found listening to Throwing Muses, and watching Jean-Luc Godard films, you can be fragmented. These things were so beautiful, I found them so moving, I could cry.
Trying to read something I write is like trying to eat a plateful of broken glass. My head is full of broken glass. Most people's heads are full of smooth panes of perfect glass, my head is full of a billion billion shards of broken glass. It was all smashed at birth.

Thursday, 23 July 2015

I'm invincible because they can never get to me inside

I'm invincible because they can never get to me inside. I am an antenna and a punchline. And I am INTELLIGENT. The whole idea of relationships is sickening: the pressure people put you under. I'd rather be abused by a million people than have to talk to one of them.
There is a majority of good people out there.
I live in my own little world, and I can't understand why everyone else doesn't live in their own little worlds. I don't think it will even seem less strange. But I have to accept it--I'm one of a kind.
I woke up this morning thinking I never want to go to Sunset Strip, Astral Cinema, again. But now I cannot wait for September, that return to London, Sunset Strip, night bars, the "hour of the flesh".
I want the abuse, I love it, like Camus's outsider. Sunset Strip's notoriously louche cabaret, that's what it is. It is Mata Hari, Anita Berber, Maud Allan, Ruth St Denis.


Wednesday, 22 July 2015

It is only by being alone that I resolve dilemmas in my life

It is only by being alone that I resolve dilemmas in my life, and achieve greater strength and equilibrium.
Write the pornography I'd like to read. I spend my life thinking. I wish I could do it forever.
"Such stress couldn't help but damage his mental health. He suffered severely from depression, obsessions, etc. He begged me to stay: left to himself he'd be tormented by his obsessions."

Tuesday, 21 July 2015

I'm definitely starting to think about it now

I'm definitely starting to think about it now: I want the Astral, I want the Dix club, I even want the model (like Emma Noble). I've had my haircut, we're near the end of July.
I nearly came in the Astral when Pink Sphinx was beginning to lap dance that man, I had to stop. It is hot and blistering again, heat on skin, I want to go back to silently glowing-skinned Astral and model.
It's a badge of honour, to be abused. It makes me Van Gogh, it makes me Oscar Wilde. To be abused by the stupid people is a compliment. I'm safe, and blowing kisses at them forever.
I am Angkor, hidden in the jungle. In the heart of me is Fu Manchu, the evil, cunning, manipulative genius inside myself. Both the innocent victim and the knowing mastermind.
If you want to strip off and go f--k a model, then go strip off and f--k a model.
Writing is the reason I do everything. It is my daydreams that makes my life worth living.
Hotels and sex clubs is where my characters reside. Rather than home and partners.

The thought of being warm to someone is almost as unpleasant as being nasty to someone

The thought of being warm to someone is almost as unpleasant as being nasty to someone.
Only 10 days left in July.
They're cut from a very mediocre, mundane cloth. And that's all right. I just find it amusing when these mediocre mundane people sit there dropping polite hints I should change to become more like them. You have to politely put your foot down with these people.
"It is certain that my behaviour is incomprehensible and that if I were to change it, I should throw the spiritual mechanism out of joint. The old priest must have wondered why I was at mass this morning, since I do not customarily attend. If I were to play the role of chatelain, I would go to mass every day. If I were to play the role of atheist, I would never go. But I play no role and regard myself as neither chatelain nor atheist. This morning I expressed a kind of inner order (or counsel) to go to mass. I am in the habit of obeying this sort of impulse without attempting to understand it. I suppose that this order (or counsel) corresponds to the profound necessity I experience to follow not "a line" but "my line". Which disconcerts the French symbolised by Moliere, whose miser is continually miserly and whose jealous lover is continually jealous. Whereas living consists only of contradictions in being, of accidental levels which fuel the machine. This morning there were only broken machines around me in church, machines still running only because of a slight incline...I have often noticed this among the Communists, though it is easy to be fooled because the incline is steeper; the broken machine rolls faster."
I've got my own line in life; anything else makes me too unhappy & I can't continue.

Sunday, 19 July 2015

Sunday, 12 July 2015

Live my quiet contemplative monk's life every day

Live my quiet contemplative monk's life every day, privacy and silence. The letter has gone!
A tropical, calm, green July 9th. Last year bleakness, and pressure. Just a month till the start of the football season! August 9th.
Like those little clustered colonies of life around the ocean floor volcanic vents ---the black smokers---there was little flurries of ideas around my visits to orange dress Emma on March 5th, Rochdale Lisa Stansfield on March 19th, Damnation of Faust on April 16th, and Malandra on Tuesday May 6th. The NPG Carmen Astral visit and the Friends of Oscar Astral visit produced some vampiric gutter sentiments (which weren't of the same calibre). After the models I wrote scenes with other characters, after Astral visits I wrote scenes of vampiric gutter masturbation.

crucifix_fellation

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

Tropical heat this morning

Tropical heat this morning. I'm a monk. I need to stay in a monastery and live a contemplative life.
A real relationship is the only salvation. Like that blue-striped long brown hair girl staring at me intently by the Strand.

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Blazing, blistering hot, deep blue skies

Blazing, blistering hot, deep blue skies; and it will be all week.
I'm just sitting waiting to see how long it is before my freedom ends, and I return to work. I'm frozen, petrified, in stasis. Too hot to go out. Just sit it out, with Lorca and Fu Manchu.
Kelly 18, Fire and Ice, Electric Blue. I really wanted to go to model but then we had the mind-numbing Zeta's Revenge, which killed all passion. That Chinese black bob girl with big nipples in Electric Blue!
To be up London in this burning heat, it really does make you want to strip off and f--k a model.
I will definitely keep going to Astral. I will definitely keep going to Sunset Strip in September.



Saturday, 4 July 2015

They are all Fu Manchu/Mata Hari films

They are all Fu Manchu/Mata Hari films. They are all The Story of O.
Astral. Dix.
The Revuebar is to start using nude men in its shows as well! There's that new red plush tacky £12 place. Boulevard is worth one visit in winter. The warm models' rooms in Brewer Street are always there.

Tuesday, 30 June 2015

The older I get the more I come into myself

The older I get, the more I come into myself. The more distant I move from other people. I can't stop growing. They may want me to stop at 5'6" but I'm very sorry, I'm still growing. Because they're short, stunted, ugly people, they want to crush me. I'm very sorry but I will continue to resist them. You were trying to stunt my growth too. Surely you should encourage it? Aren't I allowed one person's support, encouragement, acceptance? I don't need you putting pressure on me to stunt my growth, I get that from everybody else.

Sunday, 28 June 2015

It's better to indulge yourself, than keep denying yourself, isn't it?

It's better to indulge yourself, than keep denying yourself, isn't it? The strength I feel in my newspaper diary on June 28 this year, compared to the weakness and fragility of last year.
The Astral or home. Go and get it out of your system. Get it over with. Do something that makes me feel really dirty and ashamed, that way I will get a creative spark the next day. A compost heap glows with all the radioactivity, all the fireflies and dung beetles feeding on it. The dung in the bats cave. All the life it supports. How inspiring Malandra model was, National Portrait Gallery vampire Tuesday was. The strength of my revulsion propels me to creative ideas.
21/6: The Sun's ingress into Cancer gives you plenty to think about. Psychologically you have been under enormous pressure, especially over sexual and money matters. In the coming weeks you have to accept many things you have been trying to avoid. You can't.
25/6: There are a series of thoughts going through your head concerning your most private passions and secret fantasies. What is obvious is you aren't satisfying internal urges, mainly due to not understanding your own psychology. If you can't, how can anyone else?
The pink bikini tall girl in those Astral films is so orgasmically, squelchingly good, I must go back to see her again. Plus Alexandra Quinn in that small black dress, blonde on bed in black basque looking at photos. I'm just ready for it now. Just Sunday to get through now, then Monday bus to Time Centre, train to Charing Cross, Virgin, Foyles, yellow shop, Astral.

Saturday, 27 June 2015

At bad times I yearn to be a monk

At bad times I yearn to be a monk, to be allowed to live for ever in total silence and contemplation. Then I think I can do that here. All that getting me to talk, it's just stupid. Being with other people just makes me so unhappy. I need my privacy and my silence. That is who I am. It hurt me because Sarah always ignored that. If you can't be alone, you need to carry that peace around with you.
Walking down the road in my coat in the drizzling rain, it felt so much like September; I thought how much I love going to the Dix club after Chandos in the dark afternoons. That little cauldron of colour and girls. With no emotion involved, the way it should be. Pouring with rain as I came back.
I'm looking for self-realisation, and I will only find that in my writing. I want to explore that now, now you've helped me find the secret door in.
Sex dancers who create their own fictional world in the orange light amidst the blackness, and drag you into it. God, I can't wait for September. The thought of red Gillian Anderson dancing in black lace dress. Why can't May lead into September. I want Ruby, Sneaker Pimps, Placebo, Swiss gold, Chandos, Dix club, models in Brewer Street warm rooms before football in the black Wednesday evenings.
This vampiric period has coincided with Batman and Batgirl! Purple and black.
Am I Blue? 1920s New York jazz club atmosphere, smoky, ferns, illegal drink. The orgasmic sexy intoxication of Tristan und Isolde is no greater than when a stripper's eyes meet those of a certain man's and they just steadily look at each other for a few prolonged moments.


Friday, 26 June 2015

We've had 11 days of continuous rain and gloom

We've had 11 days of continuous rain and gloom. It's been lovely. September weather. Phnom Penh monsoon weather. We've just got a month of hot July to get through, then we're up to August 6th, when everything should get better.
I can hardly wait for September gloom, rain, darkness, going to pictures, Chandos with my Evening Standard, then walking through the black volcanic cauldron to Dean Street and Sunset Strip. Then coming out to go to Chelsea or the Coliseum. It's a good life. I just need enough to live on. Work for short spells to give me this.
"But when Wilde put aside the tragic role which he played with such zest, and gave rein to his intelligence, he realised that he had not altered in the least, and that if anything prison had intensified his individuality:"
"'At every single moment of one's life one is what one is going to be no less than what one has been.'"
"'To regret one's own experience is to arrest one's own development.'"
"'I don't regret for a single moment having lived for pleasure. I did it to the full, as one should do everything that one does.'"
"'I am far more of an individualist than ever I was. Nothing seems to me of the smallest value except what one gets out of oneself. My nature is seeking a fresh mode of self-realisation.'"
"'My ruin came not from too great individualism of life, but from too little. The one disgraceful, unpardonable, and to all time contemptible action of my life, was to allow myself to appeal to society for help and protection.'"

Thursday, 25 June 2015

Only a week to go then we're out of June!

Only a week to go, then we're out of June! Yesterday was the darkest, stormiest, rainiest day I can remember. I can't remember the last time it rained so much. This is the rainiest week I can remember, since I was at M------- in September 1986. This time next week we'll be into July. Then we'll be counting down to August 6th. In February/March 1991 I grew so much, and progressed so much, having been held back for a year. I was held back for 6 months at the Post Office.
"Rayfield reveals Chekhov as a Don Juan, promiscuous and ferociously unwilling to allow further intimacy after sex. Since he was very attractive to women and moved in advanced Bohemian circles, there were not a few cast-off women in distress whom he repulsed and kept at bay by teasing. He also used their painful experiences as material for his plays. Not only this: from the age of 13 he frequented brothels, and liked to boast to his men friends about the exotic prostitutes he used, dusky-skinned, Japanese and French. Writers are complicated beasts. Chekhov needed privacy and freedom more than he wanted loving intimacy with sexual partners. Out of this privacy came the great stories and plays. How do we measure the sufferings of the women he hurt and abused against his greatness?"

Monday, 22 June 2015

Friends of Oscar

Friends of Oscar.
Made to feel ashamed of what they are, and what they do. To show they are more than stains on a Savoy sheet.
In the Post Office and afterwards, I accepted I'm going to be different forever, and came to terms with it. I think you could have done more to help me restore my sense of worth, not undermine me even more.
Looking back on the early weeks of the year, you know how frustrated you were in the weeks between visits; I look back through the newspaper diary and feel the frustration of those days, and the lack of relief brought by the visits and subsequent progress.

Saturday, 20 June 2015

Thought about going to Astral but too late

Thought about going to Astral but too late. Go back Monday perhaps, if it is raining. Those Astral films really are so good, naked Ashlyn Gere in the desert phone booth in Someone Else, Jenna Jameson in Betrayed. Black PVC catgirl. Perfect Pair Alexandra Quinn. Cliff Banger pink bikini tall girl and girl by pool. They are so good.
I do like the Astral sex films, and the models; so that's it.

Friday, 19 June 2015

I am weird. To shave off my awkward edges is wrong

I am weird. To shave off my awkward edges is wrong. You should help me celebrate my awkward edges. Then I'd be able to grow into myself.
I resisted their pressure, but then I tripped. I needed help back up, to resist it again, because their pressure is false,wrong, vile. It should be resisted.
If they rang up this week and said I was starting work at ------ in D----- on Monday morning, I would understandably go back to model, and go back to Astral: there'd be no reason not to. It's only the finite nature of my money, with no more in prospect, that stops me. If I thought money was coming in again, there'd be no problem about going back to model: I could enjoy it wildly, recklessly, non-stop. Plus Astral.  Go back to Astral next week. Why not get off train at Charing Cross and walk straight to model: that would be exciting. If I was starting work Monday, I would definitely go back to model tomorrow, so isn't it stupid not to do it anyway? The only thing that guts me and kills me as I come out is that I've wasted £20 of my finite, dwindling resources. If I had wages coming in, I'd go back time and time again, and really enjoy it. This is important to remember. Get off train and go straight to model. That's the life I want. Get job again soon, so I can start to do it.
Very black now and raining, 2.34PM. How I wish I was in the Astral now.
To help find your way round your memory, it helps if there's hills and mountains, columns & towers.
Monday was good just for the sheer pleasure of it. I felt dirty and ashamed afterwards, but so what! That's a good feeling.

You should help them to celebrate themselves

You should help them to celebrate themselves, to feel proud of themselves. You tried to make me feel ashamed of myself, same as everyone else does.
My stories are all a metaphor, it is a book of parables.
"I accept the situation as it is, and no longer hope for a miracle. I feel happy when I think of you." This time last year and this day last year was such a low, and stressful time for me. So peaceful and calm this time.
Go back to Astral Friday (raining). Twice in one week. Go mad.
"I'm educated. I have my own take on life, on my sport. Whatever people say or do won't make me change. I'll only change what I want."
"It's normal--if people talk about you it's because you exist. I'm proud that they talk about me. Whether it's good or bad."
Like Camus, I yearn for abuse.
The Astral is the vital letting off steam I need, from job-hunting, and trying to write my book.
"Art should inspire an erection in the soul. All the rest is literature. It doesn't matter what excites me; it is always invention and figure. The exact and the discovered. Research bores me to death. The soul doesn't respond."
"The advice is simple: Write. If he doesn't write, he doesn't eliminate. He poisons himself."
"Yesterday found all the notebooks of my Journal which were at Paul Morihien's. Leafing through them, I realise once again how much you must accumulate in order to obtain ever so little. The terrible labour concentrated in a single drop, whose scent immediately evaporates."
"Even if I do not understand what I am, that is what I must be. My only safeguard."

A rich interior life

A rich interior life. I want to go back to see Cliff Banger already. That is my gutter. I'm Oscar Wilde and that is my gutter.
Aren't I better off this year? Yes, I'm so strong, calm, content. Having 6 months money in the bank is a help. To work for a while, save money to buy me a year's freedom. That's my plan in life now. Preserve as much time as I can for my rich interior life. I just want to think. Work is for people with nothing better to do.
If that's my nature, you should help me find acceptance of it.
My brain is fragmented. Talking to me is like trying to eat a plate full of broken glass. The glass in my brain was broken at birth. It shattered me, and a million pieces of broken glass inside your brain is not operable. If you can help me stay away from people, it will help me avoid getting cut to ribbons.
To make a story out of my own life. Sublimate my pain in my stories, make a gem out of it.
Porn excites the brain, releases the pressure, opens the black door for a couple of days again. You need a spell in the gutter to find the fuel to propel you to the stars. The black rocket can now blast off on another mission. But after a couple of days it falls back to earth again. You work on the scientific information you have gathered, until you've squeezed all the information you can get out of it. Then you must gear up and prepare for a return to the gutter again. The explosive combustible rotting material there will provide the fuel again to propel you back to the stars for another mission. And so it goes on.
You were trying to stop me being weird, forcing me to bend to be normal. I want to make a life for myself as a weird person, as difficult as that is.
Because I've had that all my life, people trying to force me against my grain, against my nature, to please them. Help them to celebrate themselves. He's been crushed under the pressure all his life, and he's been resisting it all his life, it would be better if you helped him break out and celebrate himself. To confound!
Releasing the submarine hatch, a stroke of genius! It does release the pressure, but unfortunately the crew are drowned. That's the like the operation was successful but the patient died.
They are my First World War Mata Hari films. Go back to Astral (Friday) and enjoy it.

Thursday, 18 June 2015

I felt like Oscar Wilde leaving his rent boys as I left the Astral

I felt like Oscar Wilde leaving his rent boys as I left the Astral, walking the streets back, everyone watching me. I suppose I just imagined it. The films were very good. Perfect Pair. Cliffbanger. Busting Out. Shock. The very tall blonde in pink swimsuit in Cliffbanger, she was fantastic. NEVER AGAIN. £8.80.
I'm a writer. I'm like Vincent. I'm like F.G.Lorca. I'm like Franz Kafka. Weak pathetic creatures, can you imagine them sitting at a desk in an office? Keep them at arm's length as much as possible. I just want to  be left alone, in my own little world, to write my stories.
It's no good making me go against my nature. They won't accept me. You wouldn't either. I found it difficult. Like a homosexual for a long while finds it difficult to accept his own nature. You should help me accept it and make the best of it.
Was this the end of Cuba? Maybe. Already I want to see the pink bikini tall Cliffbanger girl again.
I'm ashamed of my sleazy life, but it's my nature. Control it. Put it into my writing.
The necessarily secretive world of Victorian homosexuals.
I'm beautiful like Federico. Fucked up like Vincent, writing pathetic helpless scribbles. Cowardly like F Kafka.
Vampires get great pleasure from sucking blood, but it's a very lonely and empty life.
Oscar Wilde's shame was his rent boys; mine is the Astral Cinema, and Sunset Strip. It is a nasty, unpleasant, necessary hygienic ritual, weekly it seems. It is my gutter. I'm a prince, in dark blue & black.
They are all Fu Manchu films.


Wednesday, 17 June 2015

The Daily Star pictures have only sometimes seemed appropriate

The Daily Star pictures have only sometimes seemed appropriate for the newspaper diary, it depended on the day and the week. But now they seem permanently relevant. I would never not put it in. This time tomorrow I could be heading to Astral. I am completely rampant now. Out of control. But no, in control, just much more rampantly relaxed now. I want it so I'll do it. "Oscar Wilde, laughing and weeping, with his paradoxes and pride, generous, amused, relaxed." "I am hard at work being idle." "Action is limited and relative. Unlimited and absolute is the vision of him who sits at ease and watches, who walks in loneliness and dreams." "To do nothing at all is the most difficult thing in the world, the most difficult and most intellectual." "Praise makes me humble, but when I am abused I know I have touched the stars." "To be good is to be in harmony with oneself. Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others." "Hard work was simply the refuge of people who had nothing better to do." "The natural life is the unconscious life." "Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. And unselfishness is letting other people's lives alone, not interfering with them." "Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind, and poisons us...The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." I'm no longer brooding on the temptation of prostitutes as I did for a long while before March-May, I'm now only brooding on the temptation of Astral, which is easily rectified tomorrow. "All his plays were written when he was on holiday, and the names of the leading characters were usually taken from the places where he had stayed or in the neighbourhood. None of his plays took more than 3 or 4 weeks of actual work to polish off, though he sometimes lazily lingered over them: they were his scrapbooks into which he put bits he could recall from his own conversation." "If you don't want to change you're going to find it very difficult. Because that's what it's all about: creative transformation."