Toilet Ruminations #97

I am a terribly troubled person. I am conflicted by almost everything. Few things am I able to abide by for any constant period of time. What will upset me today is something that I wish will not upset me yesterday. What causes me a great deal of distress today will mean nothing to me tomorrow. I will act rationally in one moment only to realize that it was completely irrational in the next moment. I will want one thing now but do little to make it happen. I am continually in pursuit of avoidance. Avoidance of doing the hard work. I would rather drink, be preoccupied with petty dramas, read, masturbate, fantasize about sex, get stoned, clean my house, go for walks and do everything that I can to avoid the solitude of doing the work. But maybe work is overrated. Especially any kind of creative work. After all, in a few hundred years it will no longer matter to anyone. So why preoccupy oneself with it now? Why not live free from the burden of feeling like you should work? Work doesn’t get anyone anywhere yet we all still habitually pursue it. But maybe genius is the ability to always be working. Genius is process and not end result. Maybe I am too confused with end results rather than the preoccupation with process. If genus is the preoccupation with process and not end results then I am just fine. I could work more, without a doubt, but I have done just fine. But still I remain a terribly troubled person. Always upset with something or someone. Never filled up enough within my own skin. Always being tormented and perverted by thoughts and ideas that I do not want to pervert me. Or maybe I do want these thoughts and ideas to pervert me but what I do not want is to feel bad about it. Certain choices that I allow my desires to make I almost always end up feeling remorseful about. But I do not want to feel bad about the choices my desires make. My desires are attempting to liberate me from the conventionality and boredom which I can hardly take. But I do romanticize a quiet life. A life less compelled by the desire to kidnap and have constant sexual experiences. A life less dominated by hatred and disdain. Less motivated by a need to be somebody particular. I would like a life where I could just read and do whatever creative work I want. I can focus on being a consumer of the cultural artifacts that I like rather than needing to pursue these endless sexual conquests that start as degenerate fantasies in my mind. A quiet life is a life where one can disspaear into a life of the mind and not be compulsively compelled outside by desire. A quiet life has tempered the sharp flames of desire and retired into filling the empty moments of time with quite things. Reading, gardening, cooking, painting, listening, observing, conversation- things like these compose a quiet life. A quiet life is not altered or put in jeopardy by one’s own insatiable appetites. There is little self-destruction in a quiet life. There is even less capitalism.  It is calm and steady cruising at a high altitude. I often crave this kind of life and am angry at myself for not being able to fulfill this craving. The craving for the undesired quiet life is the most difficult kind of craving. Desires always move in the opposite direction of quiet and to crave something that one does not desire is to live in confusion. If I could find a way to divorce myself from these desires that demand debauchary and self-destruction and intoxication and fun and transgression and sexual depletion and jealousy and drama and other people as ways of alleviating the boredom and banality of life, then maybe I would get closer to this quiet life that few desire but most crave. For now, all I seem to want to do is to keep surrendering to my desires which propel me towards more trouble.  The flesh has a pull that the quiet life can not contend with.

Toilet Ruminations #96

On my daily walks around the park I am continually looking for someone to kidnap. It has become a preoccupation. An obsession. As much as I do not want to think about it, the truth is that I can not stop thinking about it. Continually on the hunt for a very attractive young lady to kidnap. I do not want to kidnap my wife because I am afraid she will bore me. She already bores me. Why would I want to have to spend more time with her? I could gag her and keep her in the nude. She does have a nice naked body. If she is gagged I would not have to listen to her talk. How her articulations bother me. I could just keep her nude and wordless. Use her body as a sexual object. After all this is what women are for me- sexual objects. Objects for me to express my sexual desires upon. Women are majestic creatures whom I idolize. I crave them. I want a woman to humiliate me because she then puts herself at a higher value than myself. Who would not prefer a $50,000 car over a $20,000 car? I could use my wife’s body to freely satisfy my sexual desires. But I do this already. I need someone new. I need a body yet unexplored by me. I need a more perfect body. A body yet deformed by age. A body still fighting against gravity and the inevitable sag. A body still so refined. This is what I am searching for. On my walks I look and look. I have specific standards. She must be in her twenties. She must have a nice ass and breasts. She must be well dressed. She must carry herself well. And if I see an attractive woman who is staring into her smartphone while walking I am immediately turned off. So she must be a young woman not yer soured by her smartphone addiction. The skin on her face must not yet suffer from the continual exposure of the smartphone digital glare. I want this woman! I want her naked and tied up in my tub! I will treat her well. Feed her well. I will of course not harm her but I will make her my sexual object. I will humiliate her just like I have been humiliated. Petty I know but it is the way it is. I do not care what she will say about equality. There is no equality in the natural world. Equality is a concept made up by humans. The truth is women are far superior to men! Men are stupid idiots good for one thing- having sex with women! And women are really only good for one thing- having sex with men. Homosexuality is just some strange deviation I can’t understand. If gay people want to go at it that is fine, but I will never understand it. Makes no sense in my mind. It is like kissing my own image in the mirror. How I abhor people. I abhor you. I abhor everyone I know. I abhor all humans! We are a wretched species. Self-centered and dumb. Greedy and arrogant. Destroying ourselves one minute at a time. All we want from one another is what we can get from one another. We are disgusting creatures. I abhor everyone, including myself. We are all absolute idiots pretending to be positive and happy! How it fills my gut with disgust. As a psychologist I have to listen to these abhorrent creatures everyday. I can not think of a worse affliction. To have to listen to abhorrent human beings day in and day out in order to support my lifestyle. Humans torment me. My parents torments me. My sister torments me. Every woman I have ever loved has cheated on me. My beloved wife deceived me in the worst possible way. Every person I meet is trying to get something from me and I am only trying to get something from them. What despicable creatures we are. Pathetic. Humiliating. Kidnapping is the only logical answer. Nothing else makes sense but to have as much deviant sex as possible while we are alive. To hell with everything else. But I know kidnapping is wrong. I know that it is not the action taken by a healthy mind. Maybe I need to slow down. Breathe in and out. Just relax. Lets think about this some more. Why the hell is kidnapping the only logical answer?

Toilet Ruminations #95

A couch has many practical uses. It can be used to nap on. It can be used to sit on and contemplate the things that are going wrong in your life and then try to find strategies to fix these things. A couch can be a nice place to drink coffee or tea. On a couch you can talk with your friends or children or partner. A couch is a good place to have sex. You can have sex in various positions while on a couch. A couch allows sex to remain distant and detached. A couch does not share the intimacy of a bed. A couch is a good place to sit and scroll the day away on your phone. On a couch you can leave behind all of the worries of the world and just sit and look out the window. A couch is a good place for meditation. On a couch you can talk on the phone. A couch can be a comfortable place to watch a film. I realize that most people do not watch films anymore. They watch movies. Movies are dumbed down versions of film made for people with shortened attention spans. A couch is an ideal place to read a book. A person just needs ideal lighting to be comfortable reading a book while sitting on a couch. Because of the large size of a couch people will often neglect setting up ideal spaces for reading. If a couch is going to be comfortably used for reading a person should have a reading light set up in a designated spot for reading. If a person reads without good lighting they will not be able to read for long. A couch is a good place for getting a divorce. A married couple can comfortably and privately discuss divorce while sitting on a couch. A couch can be a good place to be lazy. A person does not have to do anything while sitting on a couch. They can just spread themselves out and look like the unattractive beached whale that they are. A couch is a good place to give up on good posture and let oneself go. A couch is also a good place for a person to quietly write in a journal, recording inner thoughts and feelings on pieces of paper. Of course we know that journal writing is a superior form of self-indulgence. Journal writing perpetuates the obsession with ones own ego but this has been scientifically proven to have some good end results. You would not want to use a couch to eat on unless you want your couch to gradually look like a poor person’s couch. Couches are especially good to have oral sex on since they allow both parties to find comfortable padding. Just avoid getting sperm or vaginal discharge on the couch because this can leave permanent spotting and cause the couch to look very seedy. Couches can be used to hang out with cats or dogs on but I would recommend against this. Animals do not care about couches and they will eventually cause the couch to be in worse shape. Couches are great places to be on-line. A person can feel comfortable while surfing the internet and wasting their lives. Couches can be a good place to put on and take off your shoes. Couches can also serve as a great place to sleep when you do not want to sleep with your partner or lover. Couches can be especially nice places to draw and listen to records. Few pleasures are greater than sitting on a couch, drawing and listening to records. Idiots travel the world searching for this kind of satisfying pleasure. We run around all over the place in search of pleasure not realizing the plethora of pleasures that are to be found sitting on a couch.

Toilet Ruminations #94

I should have known. I am a psychologist. I have been working as a psychologist for a long time. I see over thirty clients a week. How could I have not known? It is not that I want to humiliate my wife. I would not mind subjecting her to some pain to make her suffer for what she has inflicted on me. This would be good. But I do not get much out of humiliating another person. Sexually it does not do much for me. I am afraid that if I kidnapped my wife and humiliated her I would feel bad about it. I would not get off from it. It would end up a failed experiment. The truth is that I am the one who wants to be humiliated. How embarrassing this is to admit. I can barely stand to say something about this. Me? Getting off on being humiliated? I am a successful psychologist. I am a good looking man. An educated man. Why the hell would I need to be humiliated? But this seems to be the case. The reason why I let my wife have other lovers and the reason why I often watch her while having sex with other men is because I find it humiliating. I am humiliated that she would be with another man. Humiliated that she seems interested in another man. Humiliated that she is getting off with other men. Humiliated that she wants other men. And seeing her have sex with another man who is giving it to her good, is humiliating. And when I feel humiliated I become miserable. I become anxious and jealous. I feel terrible. But at the same time I seem to be depriving pleasure from this humiliation. What is going on? Why am I wanting to be and feel humiliated? Am I that in need of stimulation in my life? Has my life become so dull that I am willing to stoop so low? I know that I am bored with my work as a psychologist. I am tired of listening to these dullards talk. Living in the suburbs is dull. Domesticity is dull. I am a loner and keep to myself. This can be dull. I do not go out much. I do not do much. I often suffer from depression. I can become disinterested in my wife because I am around her so much. I lose interest in anyone I am around a lot. I do not find our conversations intellectually stimulating. My conversations with my psychotherapy clients are all about them and their banal problems. Maybe I want to be humiliating because it is the most stimulating thing I have going for me in my life? What is my problem? I am a psychologist for Christ’s sake! All of my struggles and difficulties the past year have all come from this humiliation fetish I seem to have developed. This is the root of things. I have been hateful because I have felt humiliated. I have been wanting to kidnap because I feel like it will somehow make me feel more empowered. I am angry at my wife because she humiliated me by having an affair. Humiliation has been under it all! I am a humiliated man. This is why I feel so insecure inside. This is why I have stopped caring much about how I look. This is why I have been run down. Humiliation. I want to be humiliated! I want my wife to continually humiliate me! This is the only thing that makes me feel violently alive. What a terrible affliction. I no longer want to kidnap anyone. Not my wife or my beautiful and young patient. No, I have no desire to humiliate anyone. Maybe a bit but I do not get off much on doing the humiliation. I want to be humiliated! Give me more humiliation! When I was sitting outside in the dark at 3am last night while watching my wife have sex with a younger man on our couch, I felt humiliated! Terribly humiliated. I became so bitter. I hated her. The way she had sex with him. The way she kissed him. It was humiliating. What a terrible feeling it was. I could not sleep after. My brain on fire. Why would I want more of it? I already want more. The humiliation makes me so mad and miserable but it also gets me off. I am a mess. A madman. None of this makes any sense. I should get some help. I should not be helping others. I should not be taking $150.00 an hour from them. Get some help. Get some help. Get some help. But really what I want is to convince my wife to kidnap me. To get her to kidnap me when I least expect it. I want to be kidnapped and depraved. To have her gag me and keep me tied up and naked in a bathtub. To have her urinate on me. Talk cruel to me. Treat me poorly. Put me down. Have sex with other men in front of me. Let other men orgasm all over her. I want her to fall in love with other men right in front of me. All while I am gagged and tied up. This would be terribly humiliating! She is the one who has done this to me. She is the one who caused and still causes my humiliation. Now I just crave to be humiliated by her. This is terrible but it is also the greatest thing that has ever happened to me! I am humiliated but I feel alive!

Toilet Ruminations #93

I once wished for spiritual enlightenment. Freedom from my terrible ego. Now I wish for some sort of payback. Some sort of revenge. I want to kidnap this young woman. I want to make her mine. I have been severely humiliated by my wife. Some of it my own doing. My wife cheated on me in the worst possible way. A year-long affair with one of my psychology students. Going behind my back in the most devious ways. She continues to sleep with this kid. She remains infatuated with him. I allow it. I try to be turned on by it. At times I am. She has sex with another man as well. Both she has had sex with without condoms despite knowing that I would be very upset by this. How humiliating. But I continue to let her sleep with these young men. Last night she brought a young man home and they had deviant sex in our living room. Went at it like horny animals. I knew she would do it. I knew she would not care that I seemed down and depressed before she left for the evening. She is selfish and only cares about her voracious sexual appetites. My wife is a professional. Her greatest skill is her ability to be sexual. She is incredibly good at it and fun to watch. It is like watching live pornography with a porn actress who is really good and into what she is doing. A fine art. But it still bothers me. I still feel hurt, humiliated and betrayed by her. The common term for someone like myself is Cuck. I have been cuckolded by my wife. Cuckoldry is deprived from the name of the cuckoo bird. Some female cuckoos change male partners and lay their eggs in other nests- a humiliating act of betrayal. This is analogous to the situation of a man who has unknowingly been cheated on by a woman. Every since I found out about her affair I have been feeling humiliated. My self-esteem, in the toilet. I have turned this into a kink. Wanting her to keep sleeping with other men so I can feel humiliated. And being the slut that she is she obliges. But I do not like it. It feels terrible. I keep letting her do it even though it makes me want revenge. It makes me feel terribly betrayed and angry at her. Hurt and afraid. So I will kidnap this young girl and make her my sex slave. I can not kidnap my wife. Wait. Could I kidnap my wife? Maybe I should kidnap my wife. Now here is an idea. I have a psychotherapy session with this young girl today. At 4. Maybe I should abstain from kidnapping her. She is so young and hot though. I would love to have her as my sex slave. To hell with my wife. But maybe I should kidnap my wife. Gag her to keep her from talking. This would be wonderful. Every word my wife says sounds like an annoying lie or rationalization. She could not tell the truth about her motivations and feelings if she tried. She refuses to take responsibility and instead yaps away. It would be great to be able to shut her up. To tie her up and gag her while keeping her in the nude in my bathtub. I could subject her to immense humiliation. Pee on her. Orgasm on her. Bring men over to have sex with her. Subject her to the worst kinds of humiliation. This would be a lot of fun for me. Then maybe things could feel evened out. It is true- I do feel very humiliated by her. She has taken things too far. The only way to feel like the playing field in leveled is to humiliate her. Humiliate her twice as much as she has humiliated me. She has turned me into a cuckold. A cuck. A submissive bird. And she still gets off. She is still having her fun. She continues to humiliate me and get off on it. She is not able to see how much pleasure she derives from humiliating me. It turns her on to put me through such agony. She has a sick and deviant sexuality that she is unwilling to be fully open or knowledgable about. I can’t stand these types. Maybe this is what I will do. I will kidnap my wife. To hell with spiritual enlightenment. To hell with transcending my ego. This is how I will find my enlightenment. this is how I will earn my self-esteem back. This is how I can begin to feel better about myself. This is how I can begin to heal and get back into my own life. This is how I can get my dignity back. The bitch is getting off on keeping me humiliated and down. Keeping me her submissive possession. Could you imagine if I was caught? It would be all over the news. Successful Psychologist Kidnaps Wife And Subjects Her To Worst Forms Of Humiliation. I can not get caught. I will kidnap her. Humiliate her and then disappear. This is the solution I have been searching for. This is why I have engaged in all these toilet ruminations. To get to this point. Endless rumination pays off at some point. Where would I disappear to? I have always wanted to live in Copenhagen. I could sell the house I bought and move far away. Just me and my dignity.

Toilet Ruminations #92

I have set up the stool behind the fence. I have the lighting in the front room just right. I placed my binoculars on the bench. I have a warm hat and sweater. All of my clothes are black. Now I just wait. Everything is set up. Hope I do not sleep through it. My wife will be home around 2am. Before she left I told her I would sleep in the backroom. That she could have the house to herself if she wanted to bring a guy home with her. I know she wants to have sex with this guy. I know she likes him. It is almost as if I am setting her up to prove this to be true. She is going to take the bait. Before she left I acted sad and down. I was not enthralled by the idea of her going out or coming home with another man. But I also said that I did not mind. I told her to do what she wanted. I told her that I would sleep in the back just in case she brought a guy home. This way I would not be awoken by the noise. When I told her I would sleep in back she was very appreciative. She became animated. Happy. Too happy. I could tell she was excited. She is sexually voracious. She has an endless sexual appetite. She is currently going through a sexual craze sleeping and sucking off all kinds of men. This one guy who she had sex with last week, I know she likes him. I know she really likes how he has sex with her. My wife is a sucker for men who have sex with her well. Do I think she will fall in love with the guy? Probably not but she could fall in serious lust and who knows where that ends. My wife is just a serious sex person. She wants to have serious deviant sex as much as possible. It is a bit out of control but it’s fun for me. I get off on her being slutty. But at the same time I get mad. Hurt. Jealous. If she really cared for me and loved me in the way I want her to then she would see that I was not happy before she left and decide it is best not to bring the guy home tonight. But I guarantee that she will. I have given her the opportunity. I have opened the door. I guarantee she will take it. She can not resist an opportunity to have deviant sex with this guy. No way. The both will be here at 2am, I guarantee it. She really only thinks about her self-centered desire to have sex with these men. She will deal with me and my hurt feelings after. But I do not want to have hurt feelings. To hell with her. Let her have sex with who she wants. I get a front row show. I can get off watching her. It is exciting for me. But at the same time it shows me how she feels about me. I am a believer in personal evidence. This is all the personal evidence I need. It is ok. She does not have to be that in love with me. She does not have to care for me to that extent anymore. She can be her own independent agent. I don’t want to mind. I just need to become more independent on my own. I need to be less attached to her. I need to do my own thing more. We can be sex partners. Deviant partners in crime. We can care for and love each other. But do not get too close. She is potentially very dangerous because of her sexual appetites. Need to keep a distance and enjoy using her as a sexual object. She uses me for my intelligence, the status I give to her, the way I make her look good. It is only fair that I use her at the same time. Don’t sleep through this. I am certain that she will come home with this idiot guy. Just make your way outside. Have a seat on the bench and enjoy the show. Hopefully no animals will be out there. There has been a coyote hanging out in the garden at night. That would be terrible watching my wife having sex with another man while being attacked by a coyote. Or a racoon. Or a possum. Or whatever else may be back there at night. You can do it. Be brave. Don’t get all pissed off. Especially if she seems to be having a lot more fun than she does with you.

Toilet Ruminations #91

I am a messed up man. A disturbed person. I do not understand what is wrong with me. One day I make one decision the next day I make a different decision. There is little that I can stick with. On Monday I decide to get rid of my smartphone and get a Nokia flip phone. I want my life back. I do not want to conform to the world of the smartphone like every other idiot has. But by Wednesday I want my smartphone back. The Nokia flip phone is too difficult. I can not spend five-minutes writing a text. I have no idea how to work the thing. It takes too long. Going from my smartphone to a flip phone is like drinking heavily everyday and then going cold turkey. Now I have to return to AT&T sand explain all of this. I have to return my Nokia flip phone to Target and reactivate my smartphone. Why can I not stand by my decision to no longer be a smartphone user? Why am I giving in after two days? I was so adamant about renouncing the smartphone and now I want to return to it. I am so dependent! The smartphone is so much easier! So much more beautiful to look at! But this is also what makes it a terrible problem. This is what gets me addicted to it. I wish I could hold out and stick with the Nokia flip phone. There is something admirable about pulling out my Nokia flip phone when I am around everyone who is glued to their smartphones. I look at all these people stuck and addicted to their smartphones and I think that I do not want to be one of them. I do not want to conform to this mass hypnosis. These smartphone companies control our minds. They control the hits of dopamine that our brain gets. Apple literally controls the degree to which we feel good. We are dependent on these smartphones to feel good. We need our hits of dopamine every time we check our phones. I did not want to be a part of this conformity. I did not like that I was giving in. I was adamant about getting out of this massive cult. But after two days with my Nokia flip phone I can not do it. It is too hard. I have no desire to check my phone. The thing is so ugly that I do not want to see it. I wake up and I do not even think to look for my phone. Yet I am always searching out my smartphone. Always wondering where it is. I could care less were my Nokia flip phone is. If people are trying to call or text me I do not want to know. It is too much of an effort to text or call people back. I do not want to deal with it. As a psychologist this is not good. Patients are continually trying to contact me through text. I must be more available for them. I can not be sending them short and misspelled texts. It makes me look bad. I have to go back to the smartphone. Phones have become status symbols. People see me with a Nokia flip phone and I am judged. I am seen as a failure. I must be poor or a drug dealer. Something is wrong with me. The moment I got my Nokia flip phone I felt as if my status immediately dropped. I was looked at differently. I did not realize how much my iPhone made me a part of a particular class. Now I am a nobody. A deviant off-the-grider. As a psychologist I can not afford this drop in my status. Patients will not want to return to see me because of my lowered status. They will judge me for using a Nokia flip phone. This is how things have become. We have all been greatly conformed to these smartphones. We do not think about this when we are in it because these massive companies control how we think and feel. We are their drones. But I must return to it. I can not be out of it anymore. “Yes, Hello AT&T. On Monday I switched over my iPhone to the Nokia flip phone. I now would like to reactivate my iPhone. Can you help me?”

Toilet Ruminations #90

In an effort to figure myself out I am reading Carl Jung. I would like to read all of Carl Jung. Everything he has written. But my attention span is beat up and abused. It is barly capable of carrying books let alone reading them. My intellectual acumen has grown limp. Not unlike my sexual organ. The weight of Carl Jung is massive. Reading and understanding him is like carrying a box filled with bricks. I will take it page by page. There is so much to understand about the way the mind works. I have already learned many things I did not know. Most of our thinking is heading in wrong directions. Directions that make us dumb and weak. Reading someone like Jung puts thinking in the right direction. Reading Jung lets me have a bit more clarity about the machinations of my mind. In the loss of my attention span I have also lost my mind. My inability to focus has led me close to madness. I blame my smartphone for this. I am attempting to bring myself back. To work things out within my brain. To rebuild my attention span. Re-erect it from the rubble. I don’t want to kidnap anyone. It would be nice to have my own naked sex slave but I do not want to be responsible for traumatizing someone else in this way. I got close to kidnapping someone. What was I thinking? I was desperate. Desperate for what? Desperate to escape my own restlessness and boredom. My own loneliness. If I kidnapped a sexy young lady I could have sexual fun. I could keep her naked. I could have someone to talk with. I could not feel so alone. I would finally have a younger girlfriend. But this is crazy thinking! How could I even let myself go there? How could I even think that kidnapping a young woman and keeping her in my bathtub would make her my girlfriend? Are you nuts? I do not understand the machinations of my own mind. I do not understand why I think about the things I think about. Why I am the way I am. As a psychologist it’s my responsibility to know myself more completly than most. I have spent a lifetime trying to get away from Jung. He is difficult to understand and not a lot of fun to read. He is work. But now I am facing Jung. Now I need to get my thinking heading in the right direction and away from this nonsense about needing to kidnap someone. It sure would be nice to have my own naked sex slave though. To have someone to talk with. What is wrong with me!? Get off the toilet. Go do something.

Toilet Ruminations #89

Maybe I am doing it just to get off. Mad at my wife for being interested in having sexual relationships with other men. I am pushing her to admit that she wants to have relationships with other men. I am pushing her to have relationships with other men. I am trying to get her to admit that she wants to fall in love with someone else. But then this pisses me off. I start to believe that she secretly want to leave me. That she really wants to be with someone else. That she only stays in the marriage because she does not want to deal with the fallout. She is stuck. She plays it safe. But she remains dishonest. I try to force the truth out. She wants to have a relationship with a man while still remaining married to me. Smart girl. This way she can have the best of both worlds. She can avoid the chaos and pain of marital fallout while still having a new and more sexually charged relationship with someone else. Bitch. But I push her to admit these things. I push her to see other men. Her not wanting to be with me and wanting to be in a relationship with another man somehow turns me on. Then I can treat her like the slut she is. Then things can feel more honest. She already had one long affair. She snuck around my back for almost a year. She is capable of this. She is scandalous and dishonest. The wife role was ruined then. The harmonious relationship was ruined then. She would not have done that if she did not want to be in love with seomeone else. I know she is always hiding things. She probably even hides her true feelings from herself. But it is a dangerous game I am playing. Being mad at her. Pushing her away. Telling her to go be with others. Distancing myself. Spending most of my time alone. Are these behaviors driven by the sexual charge that I get? That I get turned on by her not wanting to be with me? Turned on by her being in love with someone else? Probably. Because then I can really treat her like the sack of shit that she is. Otherwise I am too much of a nice guy. I play it safe. I am hurt. I whine. I resent. I shut down. But if she is really honest then I can open up. I can unleash my rage and hurt. Then I can really have fun with her sexually. This can not be healthy behavior for a marraige. Eventually she really will fall in love with someone else and leave to be with him. This is what happens. And then how would I feel? Freed? Terribly sad? I do not know. This is certainly a risky game we are both playing. She already had one very scandalous affair. It could happen again. But this time I am demanding that she keep it all out in the open. Tell me everything. I want her to fall in love with someone else because I know that this is what she really wants. I want her to almost leave me to be with someone else. Or I want her to be in love with someone else while continuing to live with me as friends. Then I can really get off. Then I can have all sorts of depraved sex. This can’t be healthy. Maybe I should seek out help? Having sex with a good girl does not interest me. Having loving and intimate sex with someone who is really interested in me does not interest me. Not for long. It is sex with someone who is in love with other people, sleeping with other people while also being with me- this turns me on. Not a good thing. It is exhausting.

Toilet Ruminations #88

I am a compulsive man. My wife tells me that I am always taking something in. Through my mouth, eyes and ears. Continually consuming. Mouth: weed, booze, food, sweets, fruit, kombucha. Eyes: reading, naked women, smartphone. Ears: music, radio, podcasts. My wife tells me that I am not comfortable in my own skin. That I can not just be with myself. I think she is right even though I feel myself that I consume things to enhance my experience of life. I like how weed and booze makes me feel. They enhance my life. I love reading and consuming various ideas. I love listening to strange sounds and creative thoughts materialized as music. But maybe I am uncomfortable in my own skin. I can not seem to just be with myself. I am always compulsively thinking about something I want to consume. Compulsively consuming something. Books, records, sex, intoxicants, sweets, apps on my smartphone, photos and on and on. It is constant. If my wife only knew how compulsively I think about these things. Maybe I am an addict? Can one be addicted to reading books and listening to music? I know no one else who consumes books, sex and music like I do. This makes me feel abnormal in my behaviors. Maybe I am seeking out immediate gratification all the time. Maybe I do this because I am uncomfortable in my skin. The present moment normally feels like shit. Filled with anger, anxiety, dread or boredom. So it is natural that I would want escape. But I have many unfinished projects. Many unfinished novels, graphic, novels, short stories, a non-fiction book and drawings. All continually unfinished. Carrying around the burden of all my unfinished projects is a drag. A nag. But maybe it is my compulsive behaviors that prevents me from doing the work I need to be doing. I read instead of write. I listen to music instead of editing manuscripts. I thinking about kidnapping a woman and making her my sex slave instead of working on intimacy and connection with my wife. I go to sex clubs and strip clubs instead of making things more erotic with my wife. I send my wife off to have kinky encounters with other men instead of having kinky encounters with her. I look for women to meet and have sex with. Always hunting for someone or some sexual expereince. Always. Already today I have thought about wanting to find a way to have sex with various women this evening. Maybe I will go to a strip club? Maybe I will find somebody on Bumble? My wife and I should be more sexually deviant. She needs to have sex with her lover more often. Needs to do more kinky things. Needs to step it up and have sex with different men regularly. I thought about all of this before 9am. This kind of compulsivity can’t be healthy. Maybe it is. I do not know because I know no one else who is compulsive in this way. Maybe I am just very creative and have a very active imagination. Maybe I am just a genius and need to feed my soul and mind with creative and taboo ideas continually. But another part of me feels that this preoccupation with sex, with reading, with listening to music is escape. I am trying to escape my present moment condition. I am trying to escape the hard work of sitting down and finishing my unfinished projects. I want the high of immediate gratification. Give it to me now! I want to feel gratified right now! Through a book. Through music. Through sexual experience or thoughts about sexual experience. Through food. Through Instagram. Through ruminating. Through weed. Through booze. Maybe I am all about immediate gratification and this is why all of my projects remain undone. These projects require delayed gratification and obviously I am struggling with that. Maybe I am a serious addict. This is addict behavior. Just because I am not into hard drugs and homeless does not mean I am not an addict. Because I am financially well-off and a psychologist no one sees my behavior as that of an addict. I hide it well. But maybe I am an addict and my addictive behavior is keeping me from living the life I want to be living. Because I am not living the life I want to be living I engage in all these immediate gratifications to make myself feel better. To medicate the pain and anxiety away. But then I never finish the projects that I need to get done in order to start living the kind of life I want to be living. What life do I want to be living?