I’m not feeling very good, and I’m facing some scary things up ahead. This makes me behave in ways that surprise me.

After a conversation with Sofia, I was bitten by a mosquito, and I thought about what the itch felt like. It felt like a useful metaphor.

I haven’t written much recently. Which means I have a lot of thoughts turning over in my head. [But this was from years ago….]

I miss Sofia.

On distant buddies and virtual threesomes.

Helena soñó que se dejaba los sueños olvidados en una isla.

Seven years with Sofia, and I’ve never written about her in a way that does justice to what we have. This is me, beginning to fix that.

I am sad.

My “quarantine buddy.”

This isn’t at all a summary of the post, but it’s hot, nonetheless: this week, I imagined a world in which V might once again suck my cock.