I’m thinking about the relationship between death and death anxiety on the one hand, and my sexual desires on the other. And how so much of my hunger is for infinitude. It’s for an infinitude of women to suck my cock, an infinitude of women on whom I can go down, an infinitude of women who will dress as I ask, do as I say, be as I wish.
There’s something in the very notion of infinity which is a protest against death. And it is so central to so many of my fantasies that it seems evidence of the centrality of death in my fears.