These days I’m working on a hundred things at the same time. I have slowed down, at least in my head if not my body, but I suppose that’s the point. Let’s see if I can stay calm no matter how crowded the subway, how loud the bar, and how noisy the streets are at night.
A lot of what I’ve been writing has been more personal than in the past. When I say that, what I really mean is more honest. It’s exhausting in some ways and liberating in others, and I have no idea what I’m going to do with it. Does anyone really want to read about that? Here’s a snippet from what’s currently called “Going Home.”
As the summer days went past, I found a woman my age who liked to fuck as often as I did. We attempted one mildly awkward threesome, and god what the hell was I thinking? But, after that ridiculous evening I spent more time with Tina instead, and when she fucked a bartender one night while I was home by myself I knew that I deserved it because of what I had done to someone else. I knew I deserved whatever hot mess Tina could throw at me, because I had been a major dick to Alice without even trying. I had forsaken one for the other, and what was even more fucked up was that I loved her. Goddamnit did I love her, and so what did I do? I ran the other way as fast as I could, falling into the arms of someone I would never love and I never did.
Some writing is therapy I suppose, and I do think there’s some value in confession. If nothing else it’s normalizing, and we could all use some of that on occasion. If I know that everyone else fucks up in the same way, has to deal with the same shit, and sometimes wind up happy in spite of it all, then maybe I can get through my own stuff as well.
I’ve also been getting lost in a slight homage to vintage erotica after reading and watching Emmanuelle once more. I finished a novella last week, and I’ve been editing it and working on a cover. Sometimes I’d rather spend all day designing shit than writing, but maybe that’s just a distraction as well. Here’s a bit from “Susanna’s Affairs.”
He watched her come, her lips swallowing her fingers as she did, and now he touched her more and more frequently while still never entering her. Susanna could feel him against her lips, sometimes his manhood and something his hand as it moved faster, and she wondered how soon he would come and if she should move. His groan was the only thing that gave him away, and before she could make a decision, she felt him come, warm and wet against her cheeks and the small of her back. She stood still as she felt it slowly slip down the crack of her ass before running in between her lips and her still nestled fingers. Horrified and excited, she made a decision without thinking at all.
Reading it again, it feels dirty and obscene without using any bad words at all. I’m sure it’s still a mess, but it was a fun world to get lost in, and I’m pretty excited about getting it into shape for publication. At the heart of it, it’s about how we manage expectation, fantasy, and reality. I know I often long for something only to discover that the longing was far more enticing than the fulfilling.
And then, of course, I’ve been writing about meditating again and how it relates to sex and kink and everything in between. It’s more of a jumble of thoughts right now, and I keep on vomiting out words just to see if there’s a start to something real. I honestly have no idea yet, and mostly it’s still feeling like a whole lot of work. Here’s some of it though:
My premise is that sex and sexuality are not only natural, but healthy parts of human existence, and that with a bit of mindfulness we can learn to open ourselves to beautiful, safe, and fulfilling sexual experiences and relationships. Because sex is such a taboo, this practice of mindfulness often has a disproportionately strong effect in that we can often quickly discover our own hangups, fears, doubts, alongside our turn-ons, desires, and fetishes.
I’m sure there are some other things I’m in the middle of, but maybe it doesn’t matter. Part of slowing down a bit has been taking some of the pressure off myself to constantly produce. That includes for this here QNY, which I’m never quite sure what to do with. What I think I want is a place to share stories, talk about writing, and maybe talk about sex and sexuality as well. What I don’t want is to feel like I’ve created a box for myself that I can’t climb out of.
So, that’s it for me right now. I’ll keep writing and keep sharing and we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for following along.