I’m not gonna whine about the sad things, so I’ll tell ya this… The life of a sex addict is often tiring. To be constantly TUNED IN to everyone’s NEEDS. To have so many NEEDS of your own… I mean, my mind flutters non-stop to my best friend. To the one who is no longer here to condemn, to criticize, to judge… to love, to shelter, to NEED… And tears are non-stop for those moments in time.

But my body… it has no idea about what’s going on in my mind. It cares not. All I know is that the vibrator I’m sitting on (through clothing; I’m no perv) is definitely FILLING A NEED of mine RIGHT FUCKIN NOW. And I’ve decided to just go with that feeling at present. 

I’ve got some kool azz country music blaring through the headphones. My puppy is sleeping his 9 year old azz off in the blankets on the couch. All is okay. Maybe not perfect. Certainly not well. But okay. And I’m okay with that. For now.


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