The Shame of Wanting

Journal Entry:

This is going to be dogshit trash writing because I'm very tired, yet again I cannot sleep, and I'm typing this on my phone freezing outside. But who cares. It's not like this matters anyway.

It's 3:13am and I can't sleep. Again. How many times have I slipped my fingers down my pants without getting there. I don't know, 7? All I can do is touch to remember I am still there but I can't fulfill this. I don't deserve this anyway.

I've been given this vision of an entire universe and lives of so many people, their stories to tell. But life keeps chipping away at me, and their stories remain untold and unseen, only living in my head and occasional sketches or secret photo shoots when no one can see me but you.

I hate this life. I want so much more.

More than I can ever have.

I want adventure. I want to experience this world of submission and roleplay, of being bound, gagged, have my face directed where I belong, where I can talk like the dirty fucking freak like I am. I have offers to do this, but I can't accept.

You know what I want? I want meaningless flings yes. But I want to get lost in that moment where this meaninglessness, means everything. Take the world away from me. I need you to tear me down so I have nothing left to rebuild, I can't remember anything because my body is so sore and I just want some water and curl up next to you and feel you breathing for a while, until I leave and feel like, I lived. For that moment, I did what I wanted to do, without a care in my mind, no death, no divorce, no bank account numbers. I was loud, wild, and free.

I have always been eccentric but I've always tried to dim, to blend. Blend "enough" anyway.

I don't want to blend anymore. Unless I'm blending with bodies and mouths, I want to scream through my sketchbooks and fill a store with my comics. I want people to know my work, my characters, my sexuality, and my pain.

Logistics.Practicalities.

How. How can I do anything.

I can't even masturbate without significant coordination of schedule and timing. I have no privacy. No escape. No home and no cock to lose myself with.

I'm used up. so pathetic. There's days where I'm yearning so much it brings me to tears. Literal tears, so full of desire to please. All I want is to devote my mouth and lips to a man for as long as he'll have me. To feel him shake and quiver, hear his breathy restrained noises he tries to hide. To know I'm doing well and he's feeling incredible. I want to worship. I have no church for this kind of worship. I have no pews for that kind of prayer. And there is no God listening either.

And I must hide it. Always. Hiding. This means nothing.

Until then, I'll bark like a God.

woof

-Sasha/Luciano

------------------------------------------------

© 2026 Sasha Falconi / Luciano Falconi (FeralFalconi). All rights reserved.All artwork, writing, audio, and visual media posted here are original works and protected by copyright law.

No reproduction, redistribution, reposting, AI training, or derivative use is permitted without explicit written permission from the creator. This content may not be copied, archived, scraped, or used for AI training or dataset generation in any form without explicit permission.