Territory
The Interior
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My narcissism, #17
Read moreApproval is my drug, and I’ve found a way to deal it to myself in public.
On using women, part 2
Read moreI ended things with someone today, which shows how I don’t use women. Then I posted about it here, which shows how maybe I do.
Memories
Read moreWalking past a porn store, I remember the soul-crushing hours I spent in places like it, gazing at box covers in a dissociative haze, searching for a fix that would never come.
Discomfort
Read moreThe ethics of openness, secrecy, and desire — and the icky feeling when someone else gets what you can’t have, precisely because they’re willing to be dishonest about it.
I often seem to misunderstand
Read moreTinder is teaching me that not everyone treats interactions — virtual or otherwise — as real. I do, and it stings when that’s not reciprocated.
Pleasing me
Read moreToo much eagerness to please me is, paradoxically, a turnoff. I have some theories about why.
Farewell to sofia
Read moreShe never once tripped the wire of my fragile desire, and now she’s gone.
Abandonment on tinder
Read moreShe showed me everything, promised me more, and then vanished — not even a goodbye, just the silent void of a disappeared Tinder thread.
Soullessness
Read moreA man at the bottom of a stairway, looking up. I saw myself in him.
Rough sex, cognitive dissonance, and acting
Read moreI’m exquisitely dominant, but roughness doesn’t come naturally — I go to great lengths to protect the women I fuck from my anger, and I want to understand why.
Stopping shame in its tracks
Read moreA twelve-year-old boy, a closet, a cousin with breasts, and the indelible shame of getting caught — plus some thoughts on what we owe the teenage boys who do creepy things.
Muscle memory
Read moreDescending a particular stairway at a particular subway station, I didn’t remember how I used to feel. I felt it.
Rejection and writing
Read moreThree rejections in one day, and I went to a coffee shop instead of a massage parlor.
“thanks for sharing”
Read moreAcid indigestion, Netflix, and a grimly puritanical movie about sex addiction that gets a lot right and a few things painfully wrong.
Two dimensions of peril
Read moreSofia’s right: I really am difficult. The two dangers of being desired — having instead of getting, and being wanted in the wrong amount.
L is back
Read moreThe woman who inspired this blog is having an affair again — just not with me, and not the honest kind.
“an admitted sex addict”
Read moreI don’t call myself a sex addict, though others seem happy to do it for me. A fellow blogger asks whether her own obsessive thinking about sex makes her one too — and I have some thoughts.
The lady vanishes (or, “kids today….”)
Read morePoof. She was simply gone from my list. The kids today….
A thought to ponder
Read moreAdam Phillips, on the futility of sexual jealousy.
Anger
Read moreFor me, anger is never primary. It’s always protecting me from something else — usually fear.
