Shame

Sometimes, I imagine I’m invisible, silent, unnoticed. Sometimes, I’m wrong.

What shame is to me.

Sunlight dissolves shame.

Why I write….

On paying for it and how it deforms my brain.

Wondering about why I don’t mind paying for porn, but I don’t want to pay YOU for porn….

Playing on the knife’s edge between safety and danger is where the fun is.

The final tantalizing, unsatisfying part of a date with Charlotte.

Shame is such an uncomfortable sensation.

I feel some – but only a little – empathy for Jeffrey Toobin.