Territory
The Interior
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Bike lane beauty
Read moreTwo years of biking to work instead of riding the subway, and this morning I finally saw an ass worth writing about.
Epiphanies
Read moreI’ve written a hundred times about being abandoned. Turns out I missed the part where I’m ashamed.
Death surrounds me
Read moreDeath has been a constant presence throughout my life — from losing grandparents as a young child to my mother at nineteen. My own 21-year-old child, though, has been largely sheltered from it, and losses are now drawing closer.
Depression part 2: symptoms beyond sadness
Read moreWhat being sad, being a little depressed, looks like in me.
Depression
Read moreI’m depressed. Not TERRIBLY depressed. But depressed.
Making a chatbot: legacy, loss, and llms
Read moreI’ve been building a chatbot to give access to my writing — not to imitate my voice, but to preserve it. This project grew from grief over my mother’s lost writings and a resolve not to leave my child without my output.
The unwritten history of misery
Read moreRemembering my suffering.
Missing v: a bittersweet reflection on lost contact
Read moreI’ve known V since 2011. We aren’t in touch, and I haz a sad.
Trump era politics dampening libido and desire
Read moreTrump has dampened my libido. What I initially attributed to aging, I now recognize as a response to the horror of the current political moment: it’s hard to summon desire in the middle of a national catastrophe.
Permission, fantasy, and the third rail
Read moreI’m trying to give myself permission to fantasize about off-limits women. It’s HARD!
Losing women
Read moreI struggle to accept the loss of women in my life, a pattern rooted in losing my mother repeatedly.
Being a side: a lament
Read moreI reflect on my lack of passionate, spontaneous sex and the losses inherent in any particular sexual configuration.
Replaying the story of being left despite doing my best
Read moreI keep telling myself a story, using various women, in which I do everything right but am still left, feeling somehow at fault and unable to prevent or repair the loss.
Overwhelmed by ai, drafts, and the end of the blog era
Read moreI’m producing more work than ever thanks to AI, but I’m overwhelmed by unfinished drafts, a sense of online obsolescence, and my own mortality.
Alive vs. dead
Read moreI’ve been investing in myself with more solitary, even solipsistic, forms of sex and sexuality. Maybe this is a little bit about my growing older… All I know is that there’s a distinct shift and ebbing.
Ghosts
Read moreI hate being ghosted. It shakes my sense of connection, judgment, and even cosmology.
The cost of taking care
Read moreDespite transforming my relationship to food and fitness over decades, maintaining my body now feels like an exhausting and resented obsession.
The evolution of my fantasies
Read moreI’ve entereda new developmental phase: fantasizing about scenarios that can’t, shouldn’t, or won’t happen.
Reflections on mortality and vitality
Read moreFourteen years since climbing out of the wreckage, and I’ve never felt more alive—despite the limp, the pain, the aging. Death is a constant companion, sure, but so is desire, vitality, absurd good fortune, and the bittersweet weight of knowing I’m right at the peak.
Rumi
Read moreRumi knew something about desire.
