I posted a comment on rougedmount‘s post where she really revealed some intimate details of her life. She inspired me where I wrote:
In my youth when I first became sexual, I had a girlfriend who went out to see male strippers one night and proceeded to tell me that I had a small cock. She had nothing other than these male strippers to compare me to and have since learned that the size of my cock is decidedly average. However, I can’t even begin to tell you how devastating that was to me, as a man.
After that, I became a student of the pussy. I read voraciously about oral sex and was determined that if my cock was too small to pleasure a woman then my mouth and lips and tongue would overcome all of my other shortcomings.
And over the years, I have learned much and made many worn cum hard with my mouth and lips and tongue. However the scars that I carry with regard to being able to receive pleasure still remain.
Really, it is kind of a tangent from what she wrote but I felt that the power of her words inspired me in a way that I haven’t been inspired to write in a while. Depression has been my foe as of late and the first casualty of depression for me is creativity.
depression is the fog that hides creativity, until you either founder upon it or see it with barely enough time to change direction. it is easier to write when i am angry as opposed to sad. depression is absolutely brutal.