Ain't she a beauty? That's Monica Bellucci. I used to look at photos of her and think of Happy Darling, the porn star in the novel that I'm writing. Yes, writing. I don't know what has happened, but between the minor meltdown I had a few days ago and restarting my novel by focusing on the pornographer character, there has been an explosion of writing activity the likes of which has not been seen around these parts in years. I suppose one could call it exciting. Although, it feels a little odd. Like waiting for a bus that never comes, and then there it is, and for a moment you're, like, oh my god, am I actually going to get on it? And you do. Better on the bus than under it, I guess. Now, I am feeling better. Dare I say, I'm feeling good (via). I wrote yesterday and today, and I enjoyed it. I like this character. I love this character. His name is John Chance. He's a bad man. Or is he? "The question is the story itself, and whether or not it means something is not for the story to tell." Thus far, the story contains pornography, bestiality, and cannibalism. It is rather strange to be a woman writing of these things, but what can one do when one looks in this funhouse mirror, and this is what one sees? Thanks to the girls I don't know who dropped me cool emails last night, and the boy who wrote this.
So, rock the fuck on sex bloggers. You are our collective Id, without which we would be lost. There is no need to turn toward the mainstream. Nor is there a need to succumb to any of the porn cliches so deeply ingrained in our society. Just keep on doing what you’re doing. If nothing else, talent will carry you forward.
