10-1-25 The difference between---

I was blessed today to work on a friend of a friend who is undergoing chemo in his fight against pancreatic cancer. It was refreshing to work full-out therapeutically and focus exclusively on healing massage. Been quite a while since I've done non-sacral chakra work! There was no need for any sensual touch nor did client want that. I'm grateful I can control myself and have enough skill and knowledge to still give a great massage massage. The client was a common-working-man/East Village, mature, artistic type and I welcomed the chance to help him relax and nurture him with my hands and mindful touch and skills. As an L.M.T., I got to really feel out where the tension was and slowly and patiently work out his knots and kinks. Intent is all--while massaging I was thinking what good work I was doing, and what light I was infusing into his body while touching him. This--as opposed to the thrill of the dopamine release with more sensual massage work. This isn't to say that giving a therapeutic massage is superior to giving a sensual massage or vice-versa. I'm just saying it's a different style of touch. And I'm a master at doing both.

Other than that not much to check-in with. The Jewish holidays have created a work slow-down and I hope to be posting my writing on Substack soon. My purpose therein is to get feedback and perhaps grow a queer audience so then I can truly promote and sell my writing on Amazon's Kindle. 

Had a great bike-ride tonight and tomorrow morning going to Bath House Flatiron for my day of de-tox. Hopefully not a lot of yappie women there or sickening straight couples making out in the waters. I don't understand why people go there and talk continuously. It's not a bar, a spa should be a quiet place to hang and chill, not yap away like you're on speed. You can do that at Starbucks. I'm really noticing too with certain youngish people on cell phones who are speaking loudly on the street and in my gym, how friggin' irritating it is. Tonight some cunt on 6th St. right across from my building was loudly yapping "Yes Hello Steve--this is Julie." And I responded-heading into my building "Oh HI JULIE! MY NAME IS STEVE TOO" which I thought was funny. Some other cunt from next door observed this little interaction and probably now thinks I'm an asshole. I don't care. It's almost as if women feel they are entitled to be noisy and obnoxious and if a man shows any kind disapproval their way--HOW DARE THEY! It's so easy to be gentile in public if you've a mind to. Noise pollution is just that in the air and when at close quarters with people. People should be more discrete but WTF--in this place, anything goes.

Anyway, I had a gorgeous time biking up to the little Red Lighthouse under the G.W. bridge. And then rapidly biked home as I'm trying to avoid biking at night now. Much too dangerous with all the deliveristas and young chickens on electric Citibikes giving new meaning to the terms reckless drivers (on bikes!).

Was just on a late night call with a friend who hung up on my to blow-dry his hair. How rude! Queens--can't live with them--can't live without (smile). I'll give him a pass, a Gay-41 year old with ADD. You can't choose your family : ).

A reminder--if you want a deep tissue massage--please come so we can work on my table. Giving a deep tissue massage to someone on a bed is just plain torture for any decent therapist.

Thanks for reading and watch for my Substack site--which will feature some of my best writing; some M4M massage stories (Anonymous of course, and more stories of healing, sensuality and horror. Whores, whoring, ethical sluts, slutting and the stuff of nightmares (Vincent Price laughter here) LOL.

best

Steve O

nycmasseur.com/blog