I’ve dedicated these last two weeks to writing. It’s gone really well actually. I’ve finished a rough draft, of a short novel. Or a long short story. Basically it’s just a few scenes, spread out over two days, about a married couple. So far it’s 12.857 words long.
It’s set in a time when the alpha male has more rights than his husband (as a reference to how women in many countries still live their lives). Where a single guy can’t adopt, but a married same sex couple can (as in many nations world wide). The scenes are mainly focusing on how the couple fall apart, where fortune and misfortune are closely linked together, and nothing can be saved. It’s very based on dialogue, and I think I should see the movie Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? to make the arguing more fierce.
Now I need a vacation. I need to be naked in the sun, reading a book. A cold beer in one hand, a book in the other, life doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.
There are some things that I don’t know how to talk about. So I write.
There are some things I can’t say. So I write them.
Things hurt, things feel awesome, life goes on, I write.
I write a lot. For my self. I do a lot of drawings too. Well, you know that.
How strange is it that after all that we are strangers again?
There are some things that I just can’t write. So. I show my penis instead.
Bring it on 2017, I am ready.
And as the final days of 2016 are here, I’ve decided to make all my Kindle short stories free: if you have/get Amazone Prime, so get them on this link.
Took a week off from life, and travelled to the island of Madeira. So stunningly beautiful. It kind of rained a bit too much, so will definitely go back when I have the chance. It was good: I needed to clear my head a bit.
I have some big plans for 2017 by the way. Life is good again.
I’m near the end of a twelve-days-in-a-row with business university and work. I get up every morning before the sun rises, and get back home every evening after the sun has set. Imagine this: this is life?
The apartment I shared with bromance has been sold, we are still arguing about things to be shared or split and so on for ever and ever. He is such a jerk to be honest. I got my first F on a course, which only means I will have to take the test again at some point this semester, a true inconvenience as the mid-terms usually are hell as it is without extra tests.. I’ve been working too much, sleeping to little. Working too much, studying to little.
And. I can’t say I’m a fan of the President-elect. I’ve written a short story about it. And I’ve been writing on a short story about bromance. Too good not to. To honest, not to, too true not to tell it like it was.
I’m gonna miss summer.
The semester at the University started this week. Just two more semesters to go. Bromance is after all going to buy my 50% of the apartment close to the Uni. And in Malmö we decided not to sell. Bromance still softer by the hand of his girlfriend, but also seems tired and annoyed over lots of shit I know nothing about (as I no longer ask him nor talk to him). Boyfriend, I don’t know. Just put bitumen over the arguments, build a new and fancy shoppingmall on top. All good.
I’ve been writing a bit. New short story coming on Amazon soon. And been busy folding origami of course.
Not quite sure how I ended up here, but turns out that neither of the flats are to be sold. Bromance no longer wants to buy me out, at least not at the moment, and boyfriend decided it was all good all of a sudden. And me: I’m easy. Truth be told, bromance is better behaved nowadays, more reasonable, and he’s got a girlfriend. A woman’s touch has softened him. But. Still a jerk and will end up in a book (he desired that too much for it not to happen).
So if anyone needs a book on how to manage two lives, two men, living in two flats, working almost full time, and studying full time, I’m the man to ask to write it. Call me the polyamorous super manager. Oh yeah, please let all lovers be in denial about being gay/bisexual too. I’ll manage that too. ‘Cos I’m easy.
In my next life however, please remind me to just be poly about cheesy doodles and cava (Spanish sparkling wine) – in that carb filled relationship at least I’d be the given power top.
Back at work. Back to normality. Finally able to keep my head straight. Finally in a good state of mind, in heart, soul, thought and cock.
I feel so done with men. But. I love cock. That’s a problem. A huge problem. Actually, the bigger problem, the better.
The world is an awful place. You’re just not safe even in your safe places. Like the Pulse shooting. Fuck homophobia and fuck heterosexual male fragility and fuck the racism that always follow in the discussion afterwards. People die of terrorism everyday, people die from mass shootings every day, people are killed for their sexuality or gender every day. We must mourn and remember, but we must be strong and party on claiming our rights. Human rights and equality are fragile things, and are easily withdrawn come the wrong regime to power. Things we take for given as we have won them ages ago, can easily be revoked or be given less importance.
Bromance be gone. Harder than I thought. He sent some hurtful hateful messages and I blocked him. We still have to talk I guess as we must sell the flat or have one of us buy the other’s share. And husband, well, on is off is on is off is on. We just can’t decide. Plus I had to have a minor surgery in my stomach so I haven’t been able to work or do anything for weeks. But at least I now have less pain than before, which is good. They both behaved rather nicely after the surgery.
So. Perhaps me and my husband and the bromance shouldn’t have fucked it all up. Perhaps we should have.. It’s such a coincidence how every time I make poor choices I end up with bad luck.
These last two weeks I’ve been arguing with everyone. Husband decided he was just fed up with me, and bromance called my feelings a kind of cancer. Lovely. Yes I’m strong willed and can be a pain in the ass, but there’s a heart of gold on the inside. I’m just freaked out over a surgery I have to go through mid-june. Life’s like a dick, if it gets hard: fuck it. I’m done with these two.
Some things go nowhere. Apparently bromance is one of them. We were on again for a few weeks, and off, and on and off again. I’ve been halal in the streets and haram in the sheets.
I’ve been too haram for him. I’ve been perfect. And now it’s off again.
We were off business wise, then on again. And even more on. Then he found a great project to work with, and didn’t ask me – which basically means – if not my friend, he’s my enemy [that’s how I work]. Sadly he couldn’t go on with that project as he didn’t get to work with my money. Sadly, gladly, what ever. I guess he resents me for having demands about my money. I would invest in the blink of an eye if he just said the word, but he won’t.
Fuck it. He doesn’t deserve me.
I’m in such a weird place right now. Bromance and I ended things quite badly. Which is awful – since we work together we have to keep appearances professional and correct. Also we both have an internship at the same company and will write two different papers on it, together. I mean, I’m literally heartbroken, and then we have to stay nice to each other (which is a good thing honestly), but then again.. He buys me dinner, he wants me to spend the night, he stays close, he gets physical and I’m devastated he doesn’t want more. But also it’s good. It’s honest. I’m not going to leave my man, and bromance will never get out of the closet. An affair, or more, would be too hard for us to handle. Just the fact that people started asking about us made him freak out. Hell it even makes ME freak out when people ask about us. I’m chasing something I can’t get and I know it.
Then again. We work really well together, on a professional level. That could be enough. It’s just that feeling of “how can it be wrong when it feels so right”. On a private level I’m not sure that I can get over the fact that when we started getting really close and intimate he freaked out and said it’s wrong to be gay. Talk about a knife in the back. In the heart. I most likely will never trust this man again. But then he puts his hand on my thigh and I forget everything. Puts slices of orange in my mouth, ask me if it’s sweet, and when i reply “yes” he wants the slice back from my mouth. It’s a weird place. When I spend the night he makes me wear his underwear: which would be fine if we were 13 years of age, but as adults? Why the hell does he want my dick print in his underwear? Is this the man I’m starting a company with?
On the bright side my man and I are in a really good place right now.
I did this (get-to-know-me, one truth for each like) on Twitter: got some likes. If you like it some more, I’ll add more confessions…
- My entire well being is hung up on others.
- I have had sex on stage.
- Out of all that I’ve had sex with only 2,75% are women, but I still have the right to call my self bisexual.
- They say that the first million is the hardest (starting from nothing). They are mistaken. I found the third to be the hardest.
- Eight years and six months ago I was on social well fare, and literally had nothing at all.
- I’ve never had sex on a train. But I’ve have had sex with colleagues.
- I’m completely wild with the colour yellow.
- I have a social security number in three countries.
- This year (2015), I’ve had sex with the total amount of two people.
- I’ve never tried massage. I got a gift card once for a massage but never dared to go. I’m afraid of someone touching me like that. For real.
- There are things I wouldn’t even tell my best friend.
- I’m meticulous enough to clean with a toothbrush and cotton wads, just to make sure that the tiniest nooks get clean too.
- I have two finished novels in a drawer. So to speak. And several unfinished ones.
- On my best exhibition I sold over 50% of the paintings. On the weakest one I only sold one item.
- This year (2015) like last year, I make more money on my origami than on my literary work.
- I don’t have a driving license, never even drove anything.
- My cock is probably smaller than your expectations on it.
- Have low confidence. Bad self esteem. I listen more to all the negative stuff you say than the good things.
- There are crushes that still, after ten years, are texting me about getting it on again, so probably I AM that good, or my cock is THAT BIG. For ever texting. Forever.
- I have four different credit cards. In four different banks.
- Just once I’ve voted for the same party in municipality, region and government. Just once. The feminist party that was. I usually vote for one party on each level.
- I’m not a morning person. But I can fake it.
- I say I love to tan naked. Number of times I’ve been to the nude beach 2015: zero. Number of times to the beach at all to tan: perhaps 7. Number of times to go swimming: probably 7 too.
- I’ve written more books than my own.
- I eat too little.
- I’m so afraid to fail. But how long will one last when working 50%, studying double courses at school (200%), I barely have time to my self? (But I want this so bad!)
- I’ve rectified number 6 now LOL
- I think it’s ok to paint your old fish bone patterned wooden floor.
- My mind is filled with all the things I never said.
- I’m a fluent speaker in four languages: Swedish, Dutch, Danish and English. Also know my way around a few more: German, Norwegian, French, Italian, Spanish. But I don’t know a single word in my mothers family’s native languages [meänkiele & romani].
This year is the worst. I wanted to work at a certain place during summer, didn’t get to do that. So I worked where I’ve always worked – which is good money so no complaints more that that it would have been nice to work somewhere that has to with my new education to do.
My boyfriend and I are still in a shitty place. My bromance is having a heterosexual heart and I have fallen in love. I’m tired of commuting from home, to university, to work, to university, between two homes with two men that don’t bother to be nice to me any longer. Because I’m down. Who the fuck will hire me? I’m old. I’m not bright. I’m nothing.
And my mother passed away. Suddenly. I talked to her on the phone the day before and was all like “Sure I’ll pop around for a coffee tomorrow, talk later” and then she died in her sleep. Which is a good way to go actually: no hospital scenery (I hate those), no pain, no nothing. Just peaceful. (Ok, here both men actually pulled themselves together and were very nice and caring).
And now. I just want to sell everything and move. Do nothing. Figure out who me be so to speak. Also I need comfort sex. And sun. Winter is coming.
Business University is like this. I meet a never ending stream of companies, and all I think is “I see what you did there”.. How will I ever work in this industry? On the down side: it’s all bullshit, and I couldn’t care less about your management control systems, return on this and that since you don’t really care about the employees nor the environment. On the up side: I can change all that. It’s basically up to me to save the world LOL.
Probably I’ll never have to. No one will employ me. Who wants to hire a fool with his cock all over the internet? Please tell me I’m wrong.
Also down: fighting with boyfriend. Also up: things going well with bromance.
It was a cold summer. A short summer. Didn’t go to the beach even once this year. Didn’t tan, didn’t swim. Sure, I had that one week off, but mostly I had to work every day. And now: back at the university. Still confused over what I want to do with my life. Still confused over bromance and boyfriend.
My self esteem is low. My confidence is gone. I hate my looks. I’m not satisfied with anything. I just want to buy a ticket out of here, go somewhere. Alone. Restore myself. Reboot my life. Redo life. Start over. Short stories available on Amazon’s Kindle shortly. That’s the up side.
People looking at you, holding up your nude pics. Shaking their heads. That. Is. What life feels like. Where ever you go, there’s some one ready to say “oh hey your dick is everywhere on the internet”. And so what if it is? It doesn’t mean I get laid more, it doesn’t mean I sleep around. It doesn’t even sell more of my books or my art.
It’s just my sexuality. To show. To those that wish to see. Others can just ignore it’s out there. To those that say something I just go “oh yeah, YOU LIKED it?” or “Ah, to big to stay inside of my pants you know…”.
Actually I don’t know how to handle everything that goes down between me and my bromance. It’s sexy, erotic, playful, big dicks involved at both ends, and I’m……… to much in love.
What can I say? Is this what love feels like?
Bromance. Romance. Bromance. Lust.
Things with bromance escalated quickly. We’ve moved in together. Hence boyfriend number one is not as happy as before, but he’s decided to stay. Business university is still hard as fuck.
People tell me this is my mid life crisis, but I’m not certain. I know what I want to do, I know who I want to do. Not so much of a crisis there. Yet. I’m just waiting for the zombie apocalypse to start. Any day now. Any day. Two lovers, two apartments, money, feeling ok about life. This can’t be good. It’s just too good. I want it all: please let me have it.
Ending up in bed.
Can’t really concentrate on business school these days.
I need to get my hands on this book.
I mean. I have a super solution going in my life. I have one boyfriend and living in a flat we own in Malmö. And I have a bromance and living together with him too, in a flat we own. In another town.
They both like me. They perhaps even both LOVE me. Still I feel insecure. Unsafe. Unwanted. Unloved. Perhaps I wrote this book. I can get boys to like me, but how do I make them stay and love me, sex me up night and day? How the hell do I do that?
Ages ago someone told me one gets wiser with age. One gets more insight and is less confused. Still waiting for that to happen.
I think I might still be confusing love and sex. (Also see post 87). Or perhaps is it that I just don’t know what I want any more. Do I even want more?
Attending and following and most of all: learning at the Business University is more difficult than I expected. It’s hard. It’s remote from where I live. The commuting is killing me. So. A lot of hard work but I’m managing. Spent some nights at the bromance dorm room. The results from the midterm exams are all ok or above “just good”.
Overall confused since I wonder, what is love, what is sex, what is life all about. I’m more physically close to my bromance than my boyfriend. It’s nothing sexual, but it is indeed emotional. I’m flirting with the ladies, with the boys, with the girls, with colleagues, with fellow students, and this stupid test says I’m a fluid heterosexual..
I seriously have a bromance going at University. It’s serious shit and I’m afraid. At the same time as I’m afraid to even touch him he touches me all the time, everywhere. And all I want is for him to fuck my brains out. Use and own my ass, passionate and deep, seeding me.
I never want those things so I must be really infatuated. I never fall in love but apparently I’ve fallen hard.
I’ve had a serial of incidents at university already. I had quite forgotten how straight young men act in group. And.. let’s just say.. How they want to fuck your brains out when left alone with you. One of them is very grabby feely touchy, hands on in class. Another is really dropping his jaws whenever he realizes how big my cock is. Literary the first day he must have recognized me from online, almost fell backwards stumbling on things when realizing he recognized me from somewhere, and that amazing look in his eyes when realizing from where. I love it. It was very sweet.
But it’s also hard. Studying is hard. And when people start to google you and find your cock all over the interwebz, can be hard too.
Photography like this saved my life. True story. Some of us actually feel better when feeling loved for a simple thing like getting attention and love from you guys and gurls for our photos on tumblr and other communities.
I really love that others love to show cock, and love that others are wanting to see mine. The other day I got a message on Facebook from a dude that found me when he googled Big Swedish Cock. That blew my mind. Made me so happy. Just amazing. Love you all. Please read my story on my tumblr if you want. That makes me happy too. And please inbox me :D
I’m back at the university, studying. I’m serious about it, but I’ve also had some time to think about my fellow class mates sizes. It’s a bit shallow I know, but size is a major turn on for me.
Unfortunately there are no men’s rooms at the university, all the restrooms are unisex, and that means no urinals and no where to see or show off the goods. But looking at bulges is fun too. And I’ve caught a few people staring at my crotch which is also nice ^^
I’m doing this right now [tanning naked] but I’m on Corsica. Plus I have a hardon and my bf is with me. Love life. Live life. Live love.
Be proud of your cock and show it in art: ARTExhibitionists have more fun in life! Looking very colorful today.
The other day, I woke up so horny, and had a huge erection, silly huge.
Then I got online, and a handsome stranger seemed nice, but when I stated that I needed a good pounding this morning he said “such a waste of huge cock”.
Men! Why do they keep on stating such stupid things? Totally put me in a bad mood.
All my life I’ve struggled with my self image. It’s not manly to be thin like I am (mostly was perhaps), slender, femme. It’s not manly at all. You need to be muscular, strong built, have good hair (LOL like how many men are bald?). You need to be a lot of things just to be accepted by other men as a male.
Even small words hurt. Assumed nice remarks like “you’re so thin, you’re a size S right, you are so YOU, not masc or femme” OMG the words that penetrate me and has hurt me so deep.
So I will never have the perfect male body that we see in media, on television shows, in advertising or walking down the catwalk.
I don’t want my life to be a constant struggle with the reflection in my mirror. I don’t want that, but it’s so hard. People go all “man up” and I don’t even know how the fuck to do that?!
All I know is I can’t let the mirror image win.
Me and boyfriend reading sexy stories on holiday. Cocks are pointing to the open door, please enter.
I’m looking for a new job.
It’s a very depressing thing to do. It’s nothing at all like this, flipping your cock out and getting a promotion spontaneously. I mean, I must like know things, and I don’t because I never really took attention to learning.
Come touch my ART.
I mean, come BUY my art (and touch my penis).
I need to sell off things to have space to create new stuff!
It WILL be summer again. It just has to be. At the moment it’s spring, which is nice. Sadly Sweden is just too cold for nudity in winter/early spring/late fall, so summer can never arrive too early (or leave too late).
Actually it hardly was any winter this year, according to the meteorologists winter arrived here in Malmö in the end of January after a long and mild autumn, and then spring started in the beginning of February, and has also been long and tempered.
Still would be very nice to hang out naked with these men. I guess that’s me on the left side trying to hide a boner.
When I really want something and things aren’t exactly going my way, I do this. I’m very used to always getting what I want. Men are weak for well dressed well mannered, well hung men.
The downside of this is that I don’t get all the things I need to get done, done. I feel like I should have been out with my next short story bundle already, new ebooks – new covers and extra material – new art work, and so on. The upside of it is that I have gotten my cock out a lot, and I have met a lot of hot men.
I need to get to work, but I’m busy getting blown, so you could say I’m busy doing nothing at all, and if there were money in it I’d be rich.
So far I’ve been comfortable with my nudity. Both at home, by the sea, at the beach, in the sauna, at the gym, where ever, and in my art.
So far it has been hell trying to get the new art published. The response is always fair and good, most seem to like the ideas, the execution and the artwork in it self. Is collages a hard thing to promote? Are the replies nice and friendly, and untrue?
On the other hand. I’ve been offered to strip in front of the camera for two magazines so far. I might do that instead. It’s easier?
For years I confused sex and love. I thought that the more sex you had, the more you were loved. I thought that I would be loved more, if I just had endless sex. But it doesn’t really work like that.
I never felt like that about my books or my art. If you don’t like it, that’s not the same as not liking me.
For years I didn’t love my self. Sex helped a bit. People liking my art, my texts, my cock, it did help. It still does help. Sometimes. Not every time I’m feeling down. But sometimes.
Anyways, husbands to be; I don’t know how to love you.
I’ve said it before. I will say it again:
Don’t blame me for being ‘gay’, blame dick for being delicious.
Ok. Some days I love having it visible. Now I just need to work out a bit so that my stomach looks as good as this too.
Writing isn’t always easy. I have too many unfinished manuscripts seeking my attention. I have troubles focusing on the one new thing I’m writing about. I always feel like I should have done more, been able to write more, instead of showing off my penis online, instead of being silly on Twitter.
Maybe it’s the weather: it’s been grey rain from a grey sky, the grey ground and the grey mentality of people when it’s been like this for 7 weeks. Today it actually felt like spring, 50F/10C of grey outside.