Luxuria is not just about sexuality. It is the search for intensity, for stimulation, for the feeling of sensing something at all. This category deals with all those moments when one has tried to cover up inner silence, emptiness or numbness with external intensity.

Lust is the attempt to feel yourself when your body or psyche otherwise give too little feedback.

This is not about embarrassment or justification, but about clear reflection: Why do I sometimes need more stimulation than others? Why do I seek certain experiences or dynamics? Why do sensory stimuli often replace real closeness?

These texts shed light on how luxuria functions as an outlet: impulsive, instinctive, sometimes escapist — but never without reason.

It is about recognising the role that lust plays in self-regulation, where it relieves pressure, where it compensates and where it may even be harmless.

Luxuria in this category is a sober look at one's own intensities: the search for feeling, for confirmation, for physicality, for distraction. It is a place where one names how much of it is meant to alleviate overload and how much is an expression of genuine longing.
No romanticisation. No self-deprecation. Just clarity.

I deal with this because for me, desire is often not physical, but an attempt to fill an inner void. Luxury and lust are escape valves. I want to separate what is real from what is merely numbing. And also to release the brakes that prevent me from discovering. And how I was able to discover things in the end.