A task lies before me.
It’s a task I hate.
If I’m honest, it’s a task that inspires a range of bad feelings in me – fear, loneliness, incompetence, primarily, but also (and mainly as a result of those others), anger and resentment.
So you know what I want?
I want my cock to be hard, to stay hard, no matter what. To throw hour upon hour down the drain, gazing at porn, engaging in partner-less (and thus completely on my terms) sex. To feel alive in my cock, rather than dead, in the anticipation of the task.
This, here, is the mindful response to this situation: to see it for what it is, note that, and move forward. But in the mindless response to it lies the rabbit hole.
A cock cannot always stay hard, sometimes it always needs to have a break.
Perhaps. But often, during those breaks, I feel dead.