Overwhelmed by AI, Drafts, and the End of the Blog Era
I’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.
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I’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.
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After a year of physical, familial, and domestic disruption, I’m reflecting on my relationship to sexuality, fantasy, aging, AI, and gender in search of renewed creative flow.
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Fourteen 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.
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After years of D/s relationships, my presumptuous and demanding habits are causing missteps as I start dating older, more experienced women.
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I love working out with hot women. And I long to keep the evidence I have done so. But I won’t.
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I never used to cry, but now, I dry at the drop of the hat. Here’s what’s made me cry the last couple of days.
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