Today I’m going to explore an idea about self-care and polyamory that has been fascinating me lately because I can’t work out if it makes sense or I’m completely misunderstanding a concept of solo poly. This means that yes, this blog post is slightly writing-as-therapy-ish, so please understand this may be utter nonsense that I’m working through as I write.
(more…)
Screw making resolutions in 2019, I want a revolution. Who’s with me? Who else has had enough of the shit-show that is the world right now and is ready to seize the means of production and change the world? I want to make it clear that if you’ve survived this year you should be proud of yourself.
I know I don’t do Kink of the Week “wrong” because I talk about SSRIs or self-harm instead of writing about the ways the kink in question turns me on. It’s not any more “wrong” than when it inspires me to publish filthy-yet-fictional erotica. However, it still surprises me when it leads me in distinctly unerotic directions. Like today: I could talk forever about how hot men in panties are, but somehow this blog post centred around my delight in heteroflexible men.
This is another writing-as-therapy blog post, where I again explore emotions through song lyrics. I’ve spent a lot of the last few days flirting with cute humans and trying to arrange sex dates, and thus thinking a lot about how what I want out of a relationships. Do I want candlelight or face-fucking? Piss or roses? Do I have to make a choice at all?
This one needs a content warning folks, because I’m going to be talking about sexual assault and rape. Not in graphic detail, but I’m going to explore how, right at this moment, I am so scared of being sexually assaulted, of being raped. I am really fucking scared.