Everything&Nothing: A Collection of Thoughts

All I wanna do is love you, sweet girl of my dreams. Not in the storybook way, with fireworks that fade by morning, but in the kind of quiet devotion that leaves no doubt when the smoke clears. You are the peace I never found in a thousand sleepless nights, the one thing my heart recognizes without second-guessing. Sweet girl, I’ve seen enough of this world to know most things break, most things lie, most things leave. But you— you feel like the one thing that could anchor me, the one thing worth standing still for. So I don’t offer perfect. I don’t offer forever in glittering words. I offer the truth of me— raw, flawed, unshaken— and a love that will not run. Sweet girl of my dreams, let me be the arms you fall into, even when the world has nothing else to give.

Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t care what grown adults choose to do with their lives. You want to sell pictures of yourself online? Go for it. You're not my daughter, my sister, or my partner—your choices are none of my concern. But I refuse to sit quietly while society plays dumb and acts like it didn’t build this OnlyFans circus from the ground up. For the past decade, we’ve been force-fed this narrative where sex work is now “empowerment.” OnlyFans became the main stage for this hustle, with every post accompanied by a round of applause and a “Yasss Queen.” But here’s the kicker: when men dare to consume the very content these women proudly post, they’re immediately labeled perverts, creeps, and predators. Somehow, the paying customer is the villain, and the supplier is a goddess. Let me ask the uncomfortable question: if OnlyFans is a legitimate career path, why is the paying customer a pervert? You don’t call people perverts for buying coffee from Starbucks, do you? The ...