Spring

Years ago, I wrote constantly. Nonstop.

Nowadays, it’s quite rare for me even to post a simple thought here, let alone to write about my thoughts or my experiences.

Some of this has to do with the changed circumstances of my life. I have a lot less extracurricular sex than I once did. I spend a lot more time working than I did when I started this blog. (I had a sort of early retirement for a few years, of which this blog was a signature project. But then I retired from retirement.) And some of it, as I’ve written, has to do with the changed circumstances of my country. Trump poses a constant tax on my libido, on my psyche, on my intellect. I hate him for that, as much as for anything else, honestly.

Today, there are lots of things I want to write about, but little that I am writing about. Here are a few things I want to write about:

Sam: Just WTF happened there. I totally fucked it up.

Hope: I fucked it up a little less, but still….

V: Seems I fucked it up.

Tamora: I fucked it up.

And that’s just sex.

There’s other things I want to write about. I want to write about truth and lies. I want to write about power. About symbols and actions. About the relationship between my mind and my body. I want to revisit my thoughts about “creep shots.” I want to write about…. so much.

And yet, the best I can do, for now, is to write this to-do list….

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