“So how was your date?” I ask him.
“I had a good time,” he says. “Nothing kinky or sexy happened. No scenes. But I liked the show that we watched.”
“Well, that’s good,” I say.
“I’m trying not to take it as a bad sign. Just let things unfold. » Read more
“I’m sorry, but could you hang out just a sec?” I say to him. “I have to go cross-post today’s piece.”
“That’s right, it’s after noon,” he says. “What did you put out for an article today?”
“Oh, it’s a post on amatonormativity. Being single. The hidden cost of art,” » Read more
“If you asked most people whether they believed in love or not, they’d probably say they didn’t. Yet that’s not necessarily what they truly think. It’s just the way they defend themselves against what they want. They believe in it, but pretend they don’t until they’re allowed to. Most people would throw away all their cynicism if they could. » Read more
“I have to go soon,” I tell Ro, glancing at the clock on her microwave.
She nods. “I had a feeling. We talked away our time again.”
It’s a repeat problem we have. Dinner and drinks and conversation monopolize our dates. Before we know it, I have to drive home. No time for sex. » Read more
PQ 9.6 — Are decisions about my actions or access to my body being made without my involvement or consent?
Submitting to Ganon
My earliest fantasies were all about pleasing someone else.
It didn’t matter so much who they were. They were nebulous, dark, selfish. Like the shadowy figure of Ganon on the Zelda 2 Game Over screen. » Read more
PQ 9.5 — Is someone threatening my well-being, safety or livelihood?
Threatening well-being, safety or livelihood? That sounds fairly extreme now, doesn’t it?
And yet — as in PQ 9.1, it’s important to note that sometimes these threats onset in rather insidious ways. That’s the tricky thing about abusive relationships. » Read more
Hope you are well, she writes.
Yup, just writing, I reply.
I love that you say “just writing” as though it’s not one of your passions in life.
Passion Might Be Everything, But It Looks Like Nothing
It might be my passion, » Read more
I’ve always envied people who are impervious to criticism, thick-skinned. Tough people. Insults seem to roll off them like water off a duck’s back, as the cliche goes.
The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized that having thick skin isn’t always as effortless as it seems. Sure, some people are more naturally inclined that way. » Read more
When I look at beautiful things now, I don’t wonder at the talent that must have produced it. Instead, I think of the stress that it probably took.
What happened behind the scenes? How many nights were spent sleepless? Exactly how heavy was the weight of the artist’s head in their hand?
The most beautiful things in life often come with very hidden and very private costs. » Read more
PTSD Is Like Grieving Your Own Death, Comforting Your Own Ghost
“You should really write fiction again,” Skyspook says.
I shudder. “Ugh. Why?”
He looks at me curiously. “Because you’ve got a hell of a brain. And your non-fiction is so good. It draws people in. Imagine what you could do with fiction.” » Read more