Addiction

Does sex addiction exist? Am I a sex addict? Was I a sex addict? Does it even matter what words I use to describe my experience?

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

A disastrous date, one that illustrates just how insane I am.

If my cock isn’t hard, I start to wonder if I’m still alive.

Sofia’s right: I really am difficult. The two dangers of being desired — having instead of getting, and being wanted in the wrong amount.

Rejection makes me want a blow job from a stranger and a cigarette, in that order. Instead, I’m just sitting here, feeling it.

Blaming addicts for their addictions is unhelpful. Judgment is just emotional dishonesty repackaged as truth.

Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death, and what I know about not being able to not.

A writer, a recovering addict, a TED talker — and my inexplicable, overwhelming physical reaction to her.

The getting feels better than the having — and that realization explains more about me than I’m entirely comfortable with.