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.