I’m still thinking about Joe. I suppose I will be for a long time, for all time. An enduring, virtually constant presence for over 23 years. Always magnanimous with his thoughts and praise for others. I had always thought our age difference was 16 years. It was 13. He described a time he came back to New York after some years away. He would go from place to place, from pubs to theaters to books stores and schools, looking for some trace of his life in New York, just some scrap of evidence that he did, in fact, have aa meaningful and productive life here. As hope ran out he ended up at The Strand bookstore, where a used copy of a Taschen collection of Polaroids sat in one of the bins. He thumbed through the index and found his name, then turned to the pages that had his Polaroids, his contributions to the collection. That was all he needed. He might also have found copies of the magazines he edited but those are probably not abundantly stocked anywhere except online. He also used to talk about how he was among the last to have a studio up on the top floor of Carnegie Hall, where he’d develop photos while playing Coltrane’s “Love Supreme.”

For some reason the enter key is not working on this old, beat up keyboard I’ve been using for probably too many years. I took two substantial, unexpected shits today. It’s kinda early for that but that’s how I wish it was. I’d like to shit early and often, to clear my innards of what can be uncomfortable accumulation of fecal matter. Some days, depending what I ate the night before, I feel good with that abundance of stuff inside me. I fee well-fed and full. Other days it’s like I ate a pile of tree branches the night before. Very unpleasant.

I had an interesting weekend with the pornohraphers. There was a sex tradeshow going on in Miami and I watched some of the performers broadcasting from their booths. One woman would be talking to her fans when a toothless dude walked up and grabbed her breasts (with consent), then he’d shyly ask if he could do the same with her ass. Consent was given and this happy customer went along his way.

I’ve been to trade shows but never for sex. In a world where pornography remains stigmatized in many circles my presence at such an event would be like an admission of guilt, a confession to the sins I’ve committed by partaking of adult entertainment. I’ve never had moral qualms so long as all parties involved are happy to be there. But sometimes I mistake disturbed urgency and smiles for happiness. I was watching someone I used to think was amazing but the closer I paid attention the more troubled she started to seem to me. She would masturbate online for several hours straight, non-stop, squirting multiple times, never slowing down or stopping to catch her breath. Echoes of The Devil in Miss Jones.

Yesterday I clicked a link that promised to send me to a random cam somewhere in North America. I’ve used this many times, never knowing what to expect. Earlier I got a ladyboy and a lesbian. Later I got a very obese woman showering in Texas. This time I got a nearly toothless, aggressive-seeming woman, long hair and very thin. Unlike most broadcasters who are set up in professional studios with producers and directors off screen telling them what to do this woman was clearly real, in her home, or else in an environment of her choosing. I was there for about 15 seconds, waiting to see if anything was happening in this channel, when I realized I was the only other person present. Just me and an uncomfortable-seeming woman with few teeth, she bobbing back and forth, typing away but sending her messages some place where I could not see them. She seemed troubled and strange, not in any good or endearing ways. I left the channel and she immediately DMed me, accusing me of just wanting to stare at her for free. Free means that I did not tip her with any tokens, the unit of currency on this particular site. I have been known to tip as generously as I can on a barely living wage salary, but nothing about this woman’s presence made me want to encourage her continued presence online. I tip people I like and might possibly want to be friends with beyond the dirty talk and body sharing. Later that day I tipped mightily a woman who had watched me earlier. She was like a force of nature. 4 fingers all the way, with long nails mind you, producing milky fluids and drool in such abundance that it made my mouth water.

In these rooms I’ve also come to appreciate some of the comments made by other dues watching. One might ask for permission to shoot his load, while another reports that his cock could not be harder, thanks to this woman’s deep-throating of a 10″ dildo. I don’t really talk like that unless I’m more or less exclusive with someone, and I haven’t reached that point with anyone on these sex sites.

In other news I had a date with a woman from one of the dating apps. It went nowhere. She was nothing like how she described herself or made herself appear. She’s the sort who would travel the world, from Zanzibar to Sydney to Ghana and anywhere else, but as a Manhattanite she would demure from visiting Astoria, Queens. Paris? Of course. Tokyo? At the drop of a hat. An N train to Astoria? Mmmmmmmaybe not…