Territory
The Interior
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Fun with ai, or, i’m still an addict
Read moreI contrast my past destructive obsession with commercial sex against my current generative, productive compulsion with AI tools.
Permission, fantasy, and the third rail
Read moreI’m trying to give myself permission to fantasize about off-limits women. It’s HARD!
Losing women
Read moreI struggle to accept the loss of women in my life, a pattern rooted in losing my mother repeatedly.
Being a side: a lament
Read moreI reflect on my lack of passionate, spontaneous sex and the losses inherent in any particular sexual configuration.
Replaying the story of being left despite doing my best
Read moreI keep telling myself a story, using various women, in which I do everything right but am still left, feeling somehow at fault and unable to prevent or repair the loss.
Overwhelmed by ai, drafts, and the end of the blog era
Read moreI’m producing more work than ever thanks to AI, but I’m overwhelmed by unfinished drafts, a sense of online obsolescence, and my own mortality.
Alive vs. dead
Read moreI’ve been investing in myself with more solitary, even solipsistic, forms of sex and sexuality. Maybe this is a little bit about my growing older… All I know is that there’s a distinct shift and ebbing.
The woman who waited for roads
Read moreI reflect on a woman whose reliance on charm and beauty has left her unprepared for her own agency, leading to mutual disappointment and disillusionment.
A placeholder post on my compulsivity and ai porn
Read moreI’m fucking crazy. Did you know that?
Ghosts
Read moreI hate being ghosted. It shakes my sense of connection, judgment, and even cosmology.
The cost of taking care
Read moreDespite transforming my relationship to food and fitness over decades, maintaining my body now feels like an exhausting and resented obsession.
The evolution of my fantasies
Read moreI’ve entereda new developmental phase: fantasizing about scenarios that can’t, shouldn’t, or won’t happen.
Reflections on mortality and vitality
Read moreFourteen years since climbing out of the wreckage, and I’ve never felt more alive—despite the limp, the pain, the aging. Death is a constant companion, sure, but so is desire, vitality, absurd good fortune, and the bittersweet weight of knowing I’m right at the peak.
Navigating sadness and beauty in midlife
Read moreI grapple with pervasive sadness about aging, beauty, and desire.
Dominance, dubmission, and new dating dynamics
Read moreAfter years of D/s relationships, my presumptuous and demanding habits are causing missteps as I start dating older, more experienced women.
Cunt dreams
Read moreJust what is it I’m scared of? Same old same old…. Shame. Abandonment. Loss.
Ashamed – of what?!?
Read moreWhy is it so shameful to be caught masturbating?
Commuting
Read moreAn appreciation for the thrill of being tossed around like a rag doll.
What i’m feeling
Read moreA rough morning.
Sadness and porn
Read moreLooking at porn to feel sad.
