I didn’t have any carnal contact because I want to get home cheaply (my sub-conscious taking the upper hand). But now I want to extend my holiday and hope before I return home to get some carnal contact (my drink defeating my sub-conscious). Madness. This is the way I live my life. This constant battle inside me between my Eros (Devil) and my Angel (sub-conscious). 115 On my 5th, 6th, 7th, god knows what can of Jupiler of the day already. If I just forget about Eurostar, and stay another night tonight, that is just 45 euros (£38). A very small hit, in itself. As always the option of a coach home. Cheap. Cheap. Painful as f–king hell.
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.
How strong my sub-conscious is. It keeps me away from Rue d’Aerschot, even though my conscious mind is telling me the sexiest girls are there. My sub-conscious propels me, and keeps sending me back to Rue des Commerçants (and Beatrice) and Fifth Avenue. So on my 6th day, I remain celibate. Chaste. Un-violated. Disappointed I didn’t get the bread & butter this time at Brussels Grill; perhaps it is only for early afternoons. Starving. Think I will die of hunger. For sure, I need a Domino’s Pizza to follow this Brussels Grill. Indigestion be damned. My sub-conscious is always saving my money for Lucy; or for Adelina in Vienna. It is a strong resistance. I listen to my sub-conscious, then I know what to do. So a 6th day in Brussels goes by, without sex. Bravo. Still that money in my pocket, for next time, or for Vienna. 6pm. Doubt I will be awake in time for Empire tonight. No chance. Let’s be honest.
There must be a reason why I never want to walk up to Gare du Nord—even though it is probably a shorter distance to Gare du Nord than to Fifth Avenue. And I think my sub-conscious tells me I really do not feel comfortable in the Rue d’Aerschot—even though the sexiest, most beautiful girls are to be found in the Rue d’Aerschot. My sub-conscious always directs me to where I feel MOST COMFORTABLE. In Vienna, that means Manhattan—because it is opposite my hotel probably. If I stayed at a hotel opposite Angelique no doubt I would be in Angelique every single night and would not feel comfortable in Manhattan. If I’m going to have sex, I really don’t want to have to walk far, before, but especially afterwards, when I’m shattered, and emotional. In Brussels, Fifth Avenue and Rue des Commercants, even though the quality of girls in these two places is so much less than at the Rue d’Aerschot. My sub-conscious is my river deep underground, my underground Nile, which directs me towards my true desires. So, I did not go to Rue d’Aerschot today after all—and always at back of my mind, Empire and Manuela. 1749. In Brussels Grill. Felt like a Brussels Grill steak and fancy a Domino’s Pizza back with me to follow. Indigestion heaven. No bread this time at Brussels Grill? Food, food, food, all I think about is food. No Ina at Fifth Avenue after 5pm. Monday night—unbelievably—busy like a Friday night. Party night. Packed with men.
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.
Depressed and morose yesterday. For the second day in a row I saw no sexy girl passing the Dome, I had a brief and miserable stay in Cine Paris. The films were dull and the perverts would not leave me alone, even when I said no. Passed Beatrice twice in the street but felt no desire for her whatsoever. Had just one beer in Fifth Avenue and the selection of girls was worse than ever. Forced myself to walk up to Rue d’Aerschot but there was no one there worth going with; how could there be, when I was in this morose mood? You carry the weather with you. The fact Brussels has been so bright & sunny & blazing blue skied may have had some effect in darkening my mood. If it had been raining I may have been more in my element; I don’t know. Peak Brussels has been passed and the descent down the other side is now steep and rapid. So now my last morning; 5.5 hours to kill till I have to be back at Gare du Midi. I don’t want to go home! Maybe the street girls and 5th Avenue will be better when summer comes. I think now Brussels will just be a one night stopping off point while I am on my way to Berlin or Vienna. It is easy to say I drank too much on this trip to Brussels and therefore destroyed all the pleasures I might have had in 5th Avenue or Le Coin or Cine Paris or Gare du Nord, but I rather think I drank too much on purpose because sub-consciously I did not really WANT to go these places. My sub-conscious is very strong, and it rules me more and more the older I get. I can feel its dark underground river guiding me very deliberately. It is the subterranean Styx, the subterranean Nile, directing my life, and for some reason it didn’t WANT to do anything in those naughty places. It wanted to keep me chaste. I came with a plan to live with wild abandon for four days and f–k a different girl every day—let myself go; but my sub-conscious for some reason didn’t want it.
The difference between my sub-conscious mind and my conscious mind is so strong, yet I am increasingly aware of it. Years ago perhaps not. Now I can clearly see my conscious impulses and my sub-conscious impulses pushing against them from below. And very conscious of when I allow the sub-conscious impulses to overrule my conscious impulses. That is a quite a new thing. How stark the difference now seems between conscious and sub-conscious impulses. Before it was all mixed up and I never understood why I did things; now I very clearly decide to follow my sub-conscious promptings, when I feel them. Sometimes the sub-conscious is silent and I can just carry on as normal; other times I feel strongly my sub-conscious clamouring to be heard; and now listen to it and obey it. My sub-conscious is never wrong.