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.