Going to strip clubs is all I want to do. Sexual watching. Like Salvador Dali. Fear and shame. Where is my Gala? Every time you said talk to people, you panicked me again, and made me feel tense.
How can I make something successful of my life, rich, interest in joining an accountancy course. "I hope you do something". I like the Soho Cinema & Astral films, and Boulevard & Sunset Strip: it is my shameful secret. It is Egon Schiele Monday night feeling. I love stripping and getting my cock out in public. It is a strong, powerful thing.
Get myself into situations where I can be with real people again, be successful, make money: the poison of my autistic tendencies needs to be purged. It is now the anniversary of our last meeting, exactly a year ago today. "See you later" were your last words to me. I know about the sleazy side of Soho life. I am the cynical observer. Like Wedekind, Toulouse-Lautrec, Egon Schiele, Van Gogh, Dali: I like the sleazy side.
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