Territory
The Interior
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Hunger
Read moreWon’t you help me be hungry?
Corrosive, inspiring
Read moreLike any technology, porn can be used for good or for ill.
Thinking about my upbringing
Read moreA brief explanation of some of my sensitivity to rejection and abandonment.
Seeking inspiration
Read moreMost of what I want can be boiled down to the feelings associated with transient states, to impermanent, short-lived sensation.
Reply to a disgruntled reader
Read moreA reader doesn’t like my writing, doesn’t like me. But keeps coming back. I respond.
On deadness, and sirens
Read moreThere’s something dead inside of me. Also, sirens.
Jealousy
Read moreTen seats away, a woman I’d once made out with was surrounded by men — and jealousy surged through me with an intensity wildly disproportionate to reality. Turns out, she wasn’t even the right woman.
Q. do you want me to ____?
Read moreI’m really very easy to please.
Flight to safety
Read moreCome with me on a flight to safety. It will make your cunt ache, and my cock, too.
Booty call at the bar?
Read moreA beautiful stranger and I share a connection at the bar, but she leaves with someone else. I’m envious, sort of, and I’m projecting, and I know it.
Happiness, loneliness (not hot)
Read moreThe best news I’ve gotten in years, and I can barely hold myself together long enough to walk through a subway turnstile.
Lakshmi, or, abandonment
Read moreA model swiped me on Tinder, gave me everything I asked for from afar, and then, when we finally met, gave me almost nothing. I was surprised by how much the ghosting stung.
Anger and sadness
Read moreI feel anger. Which means I’m avoiding my sadness and my fear.
Thoughts on a crowded train
Read moreMy reactions to external circumstances show me, barometrically, my internal state.
Envy and rage on the subway
Read moreI watch a man improbably pick up a woman on the train, and am consumed by envy and rage.
Cravings
Read moreA list of things I crave.
I like.
Read moreThe shortest post I’ve written, and maybe the most honest.
Love in the dust
Read moreA thirteen-year-old boy, a Hungarian village girl, and everything I’ve ever failed to do with women, written in dust.
I want…
Read moreI want something. And something I don’t.
Dating, rejection, abandonment
Read moreI had a great date, and then, I found myself confronting how much I fucking hate rejection and abandoment. Even as it’s not clear that either is happening.
