I have to get really drunk to find out what my sub-conscious really wants me to do. It is like the oracle of Delphi. To be able to decipher the message this encourages, I have to be in such a state of perfect inebriation. I am not yet at it. So, a 5th can of Jupiler then. Sober, conscious mind in the saddle, I don’t know what to do. Go to the Cine Paris? Or Gare du Nord? Or 5th Avenue? I’ve no idea. But when I drink, my sub-conscious takes over and the river starts to cut its own course, and you do what really feels right; and then you can never go wrong. My eyes are over-developed in me to the detriment of all other organs. I do believe that. My scopophiliac love of SEEING dirty things had made my eyes so much bigger than my heart. My heart has atrophied. All I want to do is feed my EYES’ love of dirty naughty girls. I only go with whores because I want to see them get undressed and be naked. The actual physical act of penetration is the least exciting part of the encounter. My eyes dominance over me has cost me all hope of a desire for real relationships. Are there really other people like me? Even to me, I feel EXTREME.
So no, no great ‘electrifying’ adventures or encounters here in Vienna, nothing to make me come back for in particular, but nothing to make me not want to come back either. A lazy, sensual, 3 days out of time, drinking and sleeping more than anything, with some brief silent bouts of scopophilia and onanism in between the blackouts. I have to say the Dorint serves their peanuts in a small black dish with a small silver spoon. Does anybody eat peanuts with a spoon? Vienna is famous for serving coffee and everything with an accompanying glass of mineral water, like you are supposed to mix everything with mineral water, but to eat peanuts with a spoon is another strange concept. I need to drink faster to get me in the mood for Weltspiegel. But it just won’t go down.
I have met no one I find as sexy as —- behind the bar at the — or —– on stage at the — or —- on stage at the —. The greatest pleasure of this holiday was seeing those gorgeous paintings in the Berlin Museum and the Brohan Museuem—Dancer, Tingel Tangel etc. And Rosa Luxemburg sex kino. Vision, vision, vision. Scopophilia, scopophilia, scopophilia. The 30 minutes with Angelica is much lower down the list. Almost something I want to forget. To forget because it was physical, and not just visual, because vision is what I love most.