Tag
My mother
40 posts
An epiphany of sorts
Read moreSome of my thoughts about WHY I want the things I want.
On deadness, and sirens
Read moreThere’s something dead inside of me. Also, sirens.
Curls
Read moreThere’s something about curls. When I had hair, I had them, in droves. A big, long Jew-fro of a mane. My mother had them too. But these curls – tight, corkscrew ringlets aren’t what I mean. What I mean are…
Two dimensions of peril
Read more“You really are difficult,” Sofia wrote to me. She’s right, of course. We were talking about how I respond to the sensation of being desired.
The etiology of shame
Read moreThe other day, I wrote about some of my self-destructive impulses, about how, when lonely, I sometimes act (and often feel compelled to act) in ways that simultaneously exacerbate the sense of loneliness and make me feel responsible for that…
Loneliness and rejection
Read moreA loyal reader asked me recently about loneliness, and I tossed off a quick response: “… in general, I don’t think of loneliness as one of my key issues.” Predictably, within a few hours of sending that e-mail, I began…
A rookie mistake
Read moreI used to imagine that there was a simple explanation. To anything. To everything. I imagined, for example, that there was a simple explanation for my out-of-control sexual behavior. I thought someone (my shrink?) could just tell it to me,…
And the beat goes on….
Read moreSometimes, events in one’s life have a heft, a magnitude, an awesomeness, such that it simply feels inconceivable that life continues for others, untouched. This can be because of something wonderful – the birth of a child – or something…
Sex on a boat – the prelude
Read moreT and I were debriefing about last night. We had a debauched time on a boat in New York harbor, and I wrote up a brief post describing our time. You’ll read a version of that post shortly, but not…
Money for nothing and the chicks for free?
Read moreI have written a bit, and will write more, about my experiences in the land of paid sex. In this post, though, I’m not going to write about my experiences, or about that land – I’m going to write about…