Anger

Despite transforming my relationship to food and fitness over decades, maintaining my body now feels like an exhausting and resented obsession.

A rough morning.

A parking dispute….

I have a LOT of intrusive thoughts.

Thinking about my relationship to fucking, handjobs, blowjobs, and… my father.

A realization about my writing.

Thinking about fucking. And anger. Mostly, anger.

The loss of my best friend.

Sometimes, I hold back when I write. Or, I don’t write, out of holding back.

Both sides, now.