vol VII: Notes
1982
Notes
Sunday 8 August 1982 - Saturday 14 August 1982
Sunday 8 August 1982
Monday 9 August 1982
notebook DREAMING DB1
[page 79]
Tuesday 10 August 1982
A long dark depressing period, July, the dead of winter, the dead of life. It is easy to know what life is about, to understand the imperative of survival, the nature of the world etc, but feeling goes its own way. It is hard to come undepressed. Problem seems partly social - no one in sight to arouse any spark of excitement in my being, partly me - the search for understanding seems sad, as Portrait of an Abstract Man in the end becomes a testament of despairing hope. The biological constraints satisfied, life is a game. Only time will judge possible behavioural variations, but there is a quality in life which is lacking in this
[page 80]
subculture - no vibrant stress, only dumb stoned cow-like complacency which is very catching. One must be true to oneself and work on, solving the puzzle as it presents and evolves. The boat is a good background of concrete activity to underpin a continued effort at creative wrting. Why do I always choose deserts?
Dream: In Paris with T. Struggling on the Metro with heavy luggage. Y on train. Seem to get further and further into the outskirts on progressively older trains, until we come to the end of the line, sitting on a derelict platform with no trains. Some sort of rapport with Y, but no words. . . . Y probably refers to my discussion of nuclear energy with Z on Sunday.
T and I come up to street level, little money and find somewhere to put luggage. It is dark and we need a hotel. The street seems nineteenth century. Get on a tram (horse drawn?) and head for centre of city. Have a guide which gives a 3D view of buildings etc, bordellos in red, some quite tall buildings. Carrying T, but luggage left behind, and quite wornout and broke. Come to park with low, lighted
[page 81]
Gothic church. Sound of gregorian chant. Contemplate asking monks/priests for a room for the night. Go to door sign says if you want attention, just roar. Mentally practice a few roars, but change mind. Go to bordello. Explain inhalting French. Je ne cherche pas une femme mais une chambre pour la nuit etc. Girls take us to the top floor, large room with beds, stove etc. Have very friendly relationship with girls who come in between jobs for kisses, cuddles, real fucks etc. with me and eachother. Think I should look after them because they are so young. Go shopping, get food, cook, get ribbons, flowers, etc. They get me money. Reminiscent L's flat in the Rue de Rome, house in Reigate . . .. Had M in bed with me and the girls have quality of babies. We sleep together four in a bed taking turns to make love. A very sensuous time. I have been feeling very unsensuous lately, almost repelled by physical contact, . . . and guilt or something seems to carry it over to other people. Dream seems to show desire for opposite. To get a place of nurturing sensuousness. Prostitutes seem to have no jealousy, and to be not demanding but to accept my role among them as a father of T and father/lover/caretaker of them. A sort of ideal. Afraid of contact with people here because it seems
[page 82]
to carry overtones of demand/dependence. Really this place is too small, narrow, fascist, uncultured for a human being to survive. Really need someone to play with who is self sufficient in themselves and can meet as an equal, rather than as a person in need of support/assistance/therapy etc.
