My god, there are some busty girls in the Rue d’Aerschot. But none enough to lure me in. Completely unaroused in the Cine Paris, though the films up & downstairs were probably the same as yesterday, just different scenes, not even the slightest swelling. And the Red Devil bar at the end of Rue d’Aerschot has not got Jupiler on tap today, so I had to buy a bottle; another sign of the rubbishness of this holiday. I see little chance of it picking up. My mojo is low to non-existent. Anyway, the Red Devil has quality urinals, which is the main reason I wanted to come in here. 220 still ridiculously early, I will have another beer or 2 in the bars further down the road, then head back to Fifth. Before 4 probably, but at least a better, more propitious time than yesterday. Honestly, though, no desire for anything except continued drinking, lovely food to finish the day then bed. Final little session in Cine Paris perhaps and walk around Rue des Cendres and Rue de la Blanchisserie, but no desire for anything more.
Always I want to follow the EASIEST route; that is why I always go straight to Fifth Avenue even if I know it is too early for the quality girls and therefore pointless. A river cuts its easiest course. This is why I still keep going to Fifth Avenue too early, rather than Rue d’Aerschot where the more beautiful girls can be found. It is too far to walk? Not sure it isn’t exactly the same distance to Fifth as it is to Rue d’Aerschot.
These American girls have obviously been here before because they knew the location of the change machine, one of them did at least. Christ, they are loud. I woke with a very sore shoulder, so I must have been sleeping uncomfortably. I was dreaming I was a receptionist trying to check in visitors to my building, but I didn’t know how to use the visitor badge computer program, and they were looking at me with such contempt, and I felt so embarrassed, and one of them was Benedict Cumberbatch, and he was particularly withering in his contempt for me. I certainly woke up feeling embarrassed, and with a painful shoulder. The Americans are obviously too early to check in so are going to be here in the lounge for a long time. That should inspire me to kick on and maybe head up to Gare du Nord sooner rather than later. But it is insane, Rue d’Aerschot is full of really beautiful women, but I feel no real desire to go there. “I seem to have lost the passion and forgotten the desire”. I will force myself, all the same. 1226, on my third beer.
I don’t think there is any point going back to Rue d’Aerschot again, ever, if I never do anything, as beautiful as nearly all the girls are. I cannot say there is anything that wrong with me, when I was so wild for Diane in December and so wild for Leyla back in November. Just the quality was not there this time, that one girl that brings a city to life. Better to save my money for when she is there.
Snowing in Brussels at 3am. Probably was all night, but I think I must have been in bed by 5 or 6, after staggering back from my Brussels Grill steak. Then slept through to 1, had a wee, back to sleep till 3. So once again I did nothing in Rue d’Aerschot or Fifth. Coming away from Rue d’Aerschot I couldn’t help smiling and laughing to myself, and same while in Fifth, which tells me indeed that my sub-conscious WANTED me to do nothing in Brussels this time, which was why I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing for no apparent reason. The older I get the more I realise my sub-conscious rules my life. It is the massive Nile running underground inside me and it channels my thoughts and actions. It drags me with it. It takes a lot to override it and even then it never feels right, and turns out badly. So I have learnt to listen to it and let it take me where it wants. I have learned my sub-conscious knows best. It knows what is really necessary for my life, and this time NOT to spend any money in Brussels was definitely what was needed. Or maybe it was just telling me the quality is not here right now, save it for something that is worth it, and I will know when that something turns up. There was a moment in Fifth when I turned and caught sight of a Moroccan girl in lumberjack shirt that Leyla wore once, and I thought it was her. My heart started beating fast and I thought to myself I AM going to spend a lot of money after all but then I looked again and realised it was not her. Black bob Tatiana, Emily, Perrie were all there, but I felt no desire for any of them. I check out in 7 hours then have six hours to kill before my train. Probably cheapest just to sit in Cine Paris as long as possible.