I’m not even sure who I am anymore. I mean I’m sure I know myself, at least a little, but when I think of all the things I’m setting out to do, I’m not sure how to get them done, and I’m seeing if I can possibly make the longest sentence in the world, which, by the way, does anyone know how long that would have to be, and I’m really stressing out in this “it’s time to breathe” sort of way. Okay, somehow I don’t think that’s the longest sentence possible, so I will have to try again some other time.

I’ve been writing, living, dealing with sex (and getting paid for it) for the last four plus years. It’s been an interesting journey, one that started out with a lot of shock and awe, and eventually when the initial coolness wore off, one that has become a deep and personal self exploration. I’ve gone through a lot of phases over the past four years. Phases like the whore, the academic, the other woman, the girlfriend, the bitch, the prude, the voyeur, the writer, the “expert,” the lover, the one night stand, and the pornographer. And while at one time or another I may have been able to easily label myself as one or another, I feel like I’m in the middle of a number of these and then some.

See, this spirituality thing is biting at my back. Nibbling away at who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m trying to remember to breathe more, even if, in a drunken bout of stupidity I once told someone to stop breathing. That in and of itself is apparently a form of torture. I’ve never been a dom, although I’m not opposed to going there. But I’m digressing.

I can’t shake the spirit out of sex. It’s eating away at me, even today, as I sit in the corporate offices of Playgirl TV, finishing up my script for the second “how to video” I am supposed to write and star in, as the “expert” not as the “performer,” a place I’ve only dabbled once, but that’s not for now. I’m writing away about the best ways to eat pussy… Hint: start out slow with long licks and build up to more and act as if you really want to be there and all I want to do is look up how Native Americans incorporated sexuality with the spirit.

I feel like I’m being torn in many directions. And sometimes I’m afraid I’ll rip at the seams. Like a raggedy ann doll. And if my stuffing comes out, how will I make sure I’ve picked it all back up?

When you write everyday you’re bound to have emotional breakdowns. This is how I’m getting through mine today. I’ve just had a disappointing lunch. I spent at least ten minutes walking around deciding what I wanted and now I know I’ve decided wrong.

It’s time to breath and write some more. And figure out some of this shit.

Oh, and if anyone knows of a good web server or person who makes websites..I’m in desperate need…