Musing

We all have things that make us feel alive, that remind us of our vitality, of our connection to the universe. Here are some of those things of mine.

When you reject me, am I rejected? What lessons do I draw from my rejection? What is the meaning of my rejection? And is the rejection mine? Or yours?

I’m thinking about the strategies I have for making myself feel alive, when I’m struggling with a feeling of deadness. And I’m revisiting my past.

Apparently, this blog is NOT one of the 100 best sex blogs. At least according to one subjective ranking.

I am troubled by all the hating that’s going on – on both sides of the political divide. I wonder if it’s not possible to heal divisions with my cock.

Why is it that what turns me on at the moment is images of women’s thighs and cunts, videos of women masturbating, coming?

Glenn Beck is right. (I know. I’m as surprised as you are.)

Yesterday was an unmitigated disaster for the US and the world. But I don’t believe that a Trump presidency will be as bad as some fear. (Please, please let me be right….)

Hey hey. Ho ho. James Comey’s got to go.

Here’s hoping I’m wrong.