The two things I fear the most, and in order, are boredom and gaining weight. I pretty much believe that my gaining weight is due to boredom. When I feel dull, and the mood invades my private quarters, I put products in my mouth. It is not eating with a passion but concerned about making time more comfortable or, if possible, faster. I look forward to the evening because then I can seriously think about going to bed. Then, of course, the apparent problem arises: I wake up to face the day again.
I go through a whole process of taking a long bath in scented bath water from Japan, usually smelling of the natural elements, such as a forest in the springtime and so forth. As I get out of the bath carefully, I have a poor back; I think of a Bambi coming up to me and eating grass from my hand, but that is only if the water is too hot, and I start to hallucinate. In my scant underwear, I go into the living room and put on Claude Debussy‘s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn recording of Leopold Stokowski conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra on March 10, 1927. Although bored and hungry, I tried to lose myself in the music but started thinking of the fawn as a medium rare dish on my dining table.
I also stopped drinking alcohol, which was a brilliant move but an ongoing mental tragedy, as I’m sure it’s feeding my paranoia and distrust of people. This leads to the next, what some will say is a tad odd, but I like to invite girls over to the house and encourage them to have sex among themselves. Debussy and girls often stop me from having that extra bite on the plate, and in fact, I usually play Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn loudly as the volume of the girls arises from their adventure that takes place in front of me. So, until then, and with great hesitancy, I keep myself away from the food until they arrive later in the evening. I have a weight machine in every room, and if I go or obtain additional weight, I cancel everything as a punishment for my lack of self-discipline.
I weighed myself at three locations in my house, and the first read was a technical mistake that I put pants on when I should have been nude. With the removal of pants and, of course, the wallet, coins, my lucky rabbit foot, and a vintage-era Ace Books paperback stuffed in my back pocket, all of which added a pound or a half. What works is looking forward to the girls, and if I stay on the good side of my weight, I reward myself with something special—a spectacle of sorts.
The three women are various characters, all paid directly by me. I like to arrange a meal for them, but I don’t eat with them; I sit there and join their conversation. I encourage them to talk about their private lives and try to avoid the touch where they make things up to excite me. I instead hear if they had a problem with their trash disposal than have sex with the Ice Man when knowing there are no traveling Ice Men anymore. So, it must be realistic and with real passion.
Of course, things happen in front of me after the meal, and only if I don’t eat, and that takes all the willpower within my large frame. I sit there and watch, and I only watch. I make requests and even choreograph certain moves, but the Models are very in tune with what I like, and some boundaries shouldn’t be crossed. For instance, be careful of the lighted candles. You can knock one, which could cause an eternal flame that will end everything.
As I sit there and watch in a chair that will keep my back straight up, I’m amazed that I can make a theater piece that is only suitable for me. The three girls are not strangers to me; I had separate dealings with them and consider them great friends. I think they have a good time; I know they do because they contact me if I haven’t responded within a period of time. And they know each other well. One suggested the other so they feel comfortable.
Claude Debussy based his music piece on Stéphane Mallarmé’s poem. The Mallarmé poem is about a half-man, half-goat who wakes up from a nap and has sexual memories of forest nymphs. He plays his pan pipes for the nymphs but fails to get their loving attention. The music and poem have sadness but also awaken me to sensations I feel, and therefore, I always put it on when the women, my dear friends, perform their magic for me.