Search confessions


My apartment after a long day. Rain outside and an open window. Something baking in the oven I made. A fresh salad you assembled. Two glasses, different drinks. Some podcast we manage to agree on. You taking sarcastic shots at someone of inferior politics/intelligence/taste on your feed. Me reading a book, making agreeable noises. Those looks across the couch. Dinner ready, meal eaten, drinks drunk, cat fed. We go to bed. Looks become breaths. Below us, an unquiet city. Between us, contentment.

Why can't I pull the trigger?

I confess... I'm thinking about buying an expensive sports car, but I can't pull the trigger. I'm now in my mid 50`s. I worked pretty hard at a physical job my whole life and over the years I've managed to pursue my passion, and have owned many nice sports cars. Currently I'm driving a high end Porsche convertible. And its awesome. But the other day, I drove a Ferrari convertible for the first time, and I fell in love. But the thing is, it would cost me around $80,000 to upgrade. I'm not sure why this is, but I feel kind of guilty, and kind of irresponsible about wanting to upgrade this time. I never had that feeling before, and I guess its because of the new unchartered price level. I have the cash on hand, and the house is paid (that's what happens when you decide not to have kids) and I'm still working full-time making good money. My wife has no problem with it. So how come I haven't pulled the trigger yet? Have I finally reached an age where I'm thinking I should be more responsible about retirement savings? But I'm still going to be working for quite a number of years yet making good money... Or have I just reached a certain price point where I feel it getting obscene? I'm not a flashy guy by any means. I wear very regular clothes. No designer labels or anything like that. But I'm a car nut, and Ferrari and Lamborghini posters adorned the wall of my childhood room Should I just tell myself, you only live once and go for it? What's holding me back? Maybe I feel the car is going to be too flashy for me? I wonder what my neighbours are going to think of me? Is it guilt? I find that writing my thoughts down helps me figure things out. And who knows, maybe an insightful comment or two will also help...

Love Languages at Work

I learned that there are 5 different ways that people best express and receive love. Words of affirmation, acts of service, gifts, quality time, and touch. When I thought about the workplace I realized that most of these are acceptable. Except for touch. Even thinking about it causes me to feel uncomfortable like I’ve done something wrong. Shaking hands is okay, but touch is taboo unless in specific professions. It’s a touchy thing and risky - heh. Now I feel afraid to touch anyone. In the past I’ve met dates where the person seems like a tactile communicator, which is so lovely at first. Then it turns out there’s been a miscommunication and that reassuring squeeze on the shoulder or gentle tap on the elbow to interject a thought into the conversation was interpreted as - let’s get more intimate. Whoa whoa whoa! I thought we were just talking here. Maybe I’m touch illiterate, we each have different touch languages or touch doesn’t belong at work after all.


Reading all the confessions here has made me come to the realization that I'm smarter, and wiser than the rest of you.

Ok I hate

Stealing always have any ideas. I know a job, funny though I'm unlikely to have any idea where to look. I need money because my path is much clearer and I have a real directions. Money is not my strong suit its never really mattered until now.

the male gaze

I want to be a good man. I try to avoid watching porn and keep my dirty thoughts in check. But when I see a woman in skin-tight yoga pants I find it so hard to not check out their bum.


When I was a kid a rusty nail fell out of my box of Life cereal. And the company rep that came to our house was someone my mom went to school with.

I don't know...

... who is worse, addled boomers or the people who're younger, who should know better, but who ape addled boomers.


I remember reading Cracked Magazine as a kid and laughing my ass off because it so hilarious. Then...what happened??? It just disappeared. I miss that magazine.

I hate Ukulele

Ukulele, when I hear it in an advert designed to convince people that something is easy and painless, reminds of all the lazy something-for-nothing shortcuts that people expect as their birthright. I’d rather be reminded that hard work has worth working for. Then again, perhaps I’m overthinking things.

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