last night that I was having sex with someone. He wasn’t unattractive, and I made him use a condom, but I realized it was a dream and was glad that it was, because I don’t know if I even want to do that in reality. I think I might be some sort of demisexual. I just got through watching Shame starring Michael Fassbender. It made me kind of sad to see this human being struggling with obvious inner demons and taking that out through a sex addiction. It doesn’t apply here, but it just kept making me think, “How can people be so reckless?” Aside from the fact that Brandon actually had an addiction problem, I kept wondering, “How can you go and have all kinds of sex with so many people–prostitutes–meet complete strangers at bars, fuck those people, and then never see or speak to them again?” I have no interest in being sexually involved with a person unless it is real, unless there’s real emotional attachment and desire, monogamy. I don’t want to be one of the many faces of one’s endless one-night-stands, I want to mean something. If that’s not going to happen, I don’t want sex at all. I don’t care.