2020

  

11th January 2020

I stand at threshold of potentially most exciting year of my life. Move into Kipling's Villiers Street and hopefully stay there for years. Wonder how I will feel at December 31st looking back on the year?

10th January 2020

My glory is I became powerful because of my enemies. 

9th January 2020

When you get close to achieving everything you always wanted, how dangerous every moment becomes. How treacherous every step starts to seem, until you find you can no longer put one foot in front of the other. In cricket known as the nervous nineties. When about to reach 100 runs the batsman suddenly seizes up.

4th January 2020

"Be gone virulence!" they scream with hatred, when they mean brilliance. Be gone contagion.

13th November 2020

Yes I believe it is a phoney plague, a fake, the first hit was bad as all new viruses are and wipes out so many who are weakest, but then it settles into normal influenza type seasonality. Lockdowns are completely unnecessary and make no difference to the virus reduction or resurgence. It is like trying to control the tides. However, I am not too angry, about them doing it or why they are doing it, what their ulterior motives are; new world order, build back better, all that shit, they can do what they want, as long as I can masturbate, fuck and ejaculate, as long as there are porn cinemas and floozie bars and strippers I will always be happy in my own little world. I am a simple man. My life revolves around sexual and visual pleasure and as long as their ‘phoney plague’ machinations do not bother that then I do not care. Yes, my sexual pleasures HAVE been wiped out for a whole year but even that I welcome - it has been a most wonderful circuit breaker for me. A year without strippers and without travelling to Brussels or Vienna, or even Amsterdam and Hamburg for the first time as I had planned this year, has saved me a massive amount of debt. It has enabled me finally to turn inward and focus on my books and re-writing, re-editing, re-evaluating EVERYTHING I have published up to now. Some books have been withdrawn completely beyond repair, everything else has been massively re-edited and polished and made more concise. It has been the most invaluable year of my life, the most productive year of my life (literature-wise). Truly it is an Ill wind that blows no good, and I will look back on this year as the most important year of my life, a fallow year which enabled greater fertility to come from now on.

5th November 2020 Plot Night

My writing process:-

On holiday I do most of my writing in the hotel bar or restaurants; never in my room. Writing in my room comes out completely different--not literary. If I wait till I get down to the bar or restaurant, then it comes out literary. It’s like in a bar surrounded by other people I have to behave with a certain decorum so my writing has a certain decorum; in my bedroom naked I behave with no decorum so my writing has no decorum. 

1st October 2020

The exact time & year something happened no longer matters. You accumulate all these memories in your head and it no longer matters exactly when each of them happened. It's like I have this massive cooking pot called Munich, and all my memories from 1999 are poured in there, all my memories from 2003, 2004 are poured in there, from 2005, 2014, 2015 whenever, and it now just becomes this soup called Munich. My head is just soup, a rich broth, made up of all my memories - of travelling, of strippers, and great porn. Nothing else matters. There endeth the teachings of the great Marquis de Shard, first of my line, and last probably. I ejaculate prodigiously but none of my ejaculate will meet the egg, fingers crossed. I have had several thousand narrow escapes, as you can imagine.

29th July 2020

At the Flying Scotsman you could see the worst girls ever and the best girls ever. The most beautiful strippers I have ever seen in my life I have seen at the Scotsman. But a lot of them would probably be rejected by other clubs as they had a little bit of fat, and other clubs demand supermodel thin, which I hate, so the Scotsman got natural curvy women, the way women should be. Also some girls at FS might be rejected at other clubs as they didn't speak enough English, or the girls might not work at other pubs because it meant joining the agency and then they were forced to work at all that agency's pubs all over the south of England, or some girls didn't like private dances so loved working at Scotsman as it was the last place left without private dances, just stage show. So, for so many reason, you could find the most beautiful girls at the Scotsman and nowhere else. 

23rd July 2020

“One wonders if that is decanter of blood, or red ink, on the shelf.The light on the woman's belt reminds one of a knife. It was one of the largest canvases Sickert ever painted and it has become the painting most associated with him, and it seemed to mean a lot to him, as he made so many versions of it. For such an apparently bland subject matter, one wonders why it was so important to him.”

„Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.“ Anaïs Nin

“Hedgehogs suffer in silence. As prey animals, even when in great pain they keep quiet, so as not to alert any predator to their vulnerable state. Very rarely do they scream from fear, and even rarer 'quack'. This is a sound of great distress, so if heard, investigate immediately.”

19th July 2020

I do have sympathy for my little enemies. It cannot be easy for them to have me living amongst them. More beautiful than them, more intelligent than them, and having many more sexual partners than them. It must be absolutely tormenting for them.

17th July 2020

Dream/half awake dream of pink top busty girl lying on hypnotherapist's couch, asleep, so he could start fondling her breasts, then he gets his cock out, but he now cannot control himself, strips completely naked, his incredibly hair body bending over as he frigs his huge throbbing pole bestially over her sleeping body, looking like Picasso’s Minotaur. He told me to watch from the cupboard, till she was out. He now beckoned me to join him. I too stripped completely naked and frigged myself, stroking the head of my cock against the skin of her cheek.

3rd July 2020

What I've learned in the last 3 years is waving the white flag, quietly backing down & accepting, 99% of the time brings you victory and joy. The thing you were tense and angry about and resistant to, 99% of the time is good for you if you just surrender and accept it. For the past 3 years I have forced myself to bite my tongue, and accept, and my progress after every instance of this is enormous. White flag has been my superhighway to success, joy, peace, power, riches. 

Fighting against stronger enemy, who holds all the aces, will destroy you and leave you with noting. Waving the white flag, going along with them, will empower you. Choose your enemies very carefully. Pick your battles. If you can’t beat them, join them.

Love when it's all sweet & lovely horrifies me. I can only cope with love if it's mixed with pain & some sadism/masochism. I now see how prescient I was buying my future wife (before we'd ever been out together) a necklace with a heart on it, the heart with sharp spike on the end.

Vivica A Fox "Attack intelligently." 

Yes. "Attack intelligently". I would teach my children this if I had any. Such, such a key part of surviving & then maybe even getting ahead in life. And waving the white flag regularly is key component of that. Pick your battles, Phoebe. Pick your battles.

People saying oh NO, DON'T go to a pub on Saturday it is too soon. I can have a heart attack at any moment, a stroke, cancer, get hit by bolt of lightning, by car or motorbike, random nutter in street with knife, life is fucking dangerous, I will take my f**king chances ffs.

If I am going to die anytime soon by coronavirus or anything else I want to die having f**king fun, enjoying cock & tits & bottoms & bosoms not hiding in my house like a church mouse ffs live & let die. Rather die tomorrow having fun than live to 80 years old doing f**k all.

15th May 2020

Well, some pretty shocking news from the Telegraph this morning: “Analysis by Public Health England & Cambridge Uni calculates “R” reproduction rate has fallen to 0.4 in London, with number of new cases halving every 3.5 days. If cases continue to decrease at current rate, the virus will be virtually eliminated in capital within TWO WEEKS”.

Wednesday 22nd April 2020

Pornography was so central to my development as a human being, to flowering, opening up, blooming and blossoming. Going to strip clubs and brothels and having the girls come to me to talk to me to get me to spend money of course had the effect of making me start to feel comfortable talking to women. The joy of the strip clubs, and brothels and porn cinemas and videokabins made me realise I had to go to work and stay there in order to be able to fund those activities, so that turned me into a working man again. Porn is only ever presented in the media as an evil, something that is destroying lives, something people need help to cure their life ruining addiction to. The benefits of it are never talked about. I hope I can correct that imbalance in my books. I glory in it because it has given me so much. To someone so completely unable and unsuited to relationships, it gave me a glorious alternative life that has brought me HAPPINESS, JOY, PLEASURE. 

Monday 13th April 2020

Worked hard on reconstituting THERAPY all Sunday evening, then, enthused by this, had a long soapy session (Anais Hills, French, gros seins, Cat Bangles) using the blue rubber glove for first time! Interesting sensation. Then before laying down very tired around 1am looked through the THERAPY stuff and found it awful, dreadful unusable. Depressed went to sleep. This morning, however, I am once more enthused by it! A delightful little miniature set in Vienna, ‘Psychotherapy & Pornography in End of the Century Vienna’. Horny when I woke this morning, hard cock, turned on, but then a risible cum. Weak pathetic thing. More pleasure from a piss.

As a socially avoidant solipsist this crisis hasn't actually affected me much. The only difference is I drink at home instead of in pubs. And I cannot travel. Both things of course are saving me money. And I spend more time working on my books, which you may not think is a good thing but I do. 

Sunday 12th April 2020

My goal in life now is to have as much fun as possible in whatever time is left to me, and when I say fun I think you know very well to what kind of fun I allude. At this time of life some men might be thinking it is time now to be settling down, put their wild days behind them. On the contrary for me, now I just want to become more rampant than ever before, as I am ever more conscious that time is running out now. A river cuts its own course and the closer it gets to the sea the deeper and broader and more filled with volume and more powerful and unstoppable it becomes. Such it is with me. And what does the sea represent in this metaphor? Death, perhaps; the end; or maybe it means coming into my TOTAL power; if so I feel on the verge of that for sure. 
Every time I receive a new book in the post, and let’s face it few things in life are more exciting than that, I always close my eyes and at random open it at some page and then take the first words I see as some omen. So I open Hermit of 69th Street on page 202 and read--the one sentence in bold type--Love is the desire to prostitute oneself. There is, indeed, no exalted pleasure which cannot be related to prostitution. (Baudelaire).

Saturday 4th April 2020

The history in Brussels streets is amazing. Brussels has always been a great place for exiles, of one kind or another. Marx, Engels, Baudelaire, Hugo, Byron, Verlaine, Rimbaud, etc etc and it is so wonderful to visit all the places these exiles lived, ate & drank in (or shot each other!) Perhaps this is why I am attracted to Brussels so much and love it so much, it’s exile-friendly environment. 

Honestly, probably other people go there and don’t see much to excite them. True, even for me it is rather a starting off point on the way to greater adventures elsewhere (hoped for greater adventures anyway), or a last stopping off point before reluctantly going home. It is like they say if man is to go to the stars, he will need to build a base on the Moon as his starting point. Brussels is my moon base from where I can launch my expeditions to the stars—Vienna, Munich, Berlin, maybe one day Italy.

I see this as a wonderful time—when we all let our wells fill up. I am enjoying it; treasuring it, like a fine cigar, a fine whiskey.

1st April 2020

I wonder if there has been any film to capture how dirty the 17th-19th Century Grand Tourists were, as described by Brian Sewell? Travelling across Italy to see new opera singer, frigging in front of naked statues etc? Reminds me how absolutely overwhelmingly pornographic my own Grand Tours were to Austria and Germany in the 1st Golden Age 2002-2005. All those hours I spent frigging in the videokabins of Berlin before going up to Stuttgarter Platz, the kabins of Munich and Vienna too. Deliciously lubricious time of my life. Then came the 2nd Golden Age 2014-2016 followed by three long years of austerity which brought me to where I am now. Now I feel ready for a THIRD Golden Age. Back to Brussels and Vienna of course, but this time Amsterdam, Hamburg, and...Italy?

11th March 2020

I DO want to go see Zara on Thursday night, God help me. Quarantined in London, unable to travel, continent cut off, I feel like I want to do something in London. Can’t keep living safely, worried all the time. Seems so apt in this time of virus, when I cannot travel, I should indulge my debauchery in Soho again. And once more we are living in a ‘Beardsley period’ with his exhibition at the Tate, the first one since October 1998, Erotica in the Shadow of Death, when the war against me really started. Feel I should go to the exhibition just to mark that monument. Aubrey Beardsley shocked and delighted late-Victorian London with his sinuous black and white drawings. He explored the erotic and the elegant, the humorous and grotesque, winning admirers around the world with his distinctive style.
Spanning seven years, this exhibition will cover Beardsley’s intense and prolific career as a draughtsman and illustrator, cut short by his untimely death from tuberculosis at the age of 25. Beardsley’s charismatic persona played a part in the phenomenon that he and his art generated, so much so that the 1890s were dubbed the ‘Beardsley Period’.
This will be the first exhibition dedicated to Beardsley at Tate since 1923, and the largest display of his original drawings in Europe since the seminal 1966 exhibition at the V&A, which triggered a Beardsley revival.
Fin de siecle filth.
Beardsley’s subversive, sinuous black-and-white drawings and his own complex persona became synonymous with decadence before his career was cut short when he died of tuberculosis aged 25. In his work he alighted on the perverse and erotic aspects of life and legend, shocking audiences with his bizarre sense of humour and fascination with the grotesque – in his own words, ‘a new world of my own creation ... quite mad and a little indecent’.

7th March 2020

Not only has my Brussels trip next week been cancelled but it will surely be MONTHS until I can travel again; the government are expecting the virus to get worse until it peaks in June, then slowly goes away after that! No travelling till July or later! 

Sunday 16th February 2020

Excuse me Cleopatra is bathing!

Thursday 23rd January 2020

Even at this late stage of my life, I feel like I've only just BEGUN. I am only now at the foothills of my achievements. Only now emerging from the long chrysalis as a butterfly. What did I say back in 1996? I will not achieve anything until I am in my 40s? In Berlin? I sensed it then, I have always been a slow bloomer, always aware I was playing a long game, and with each year that passes my power only grows. So many of one’s heroes were brilliant in their teens or early 20s then are burnt out with nothing more to say. I am pleased to say I am the opposite; I am only BEGINNING to find my true voice now.

Wednesday 22nd January 2020

How does my genius manifest itself? In all I turn my hand to.