Much of what I have written about my sexual life—that is, my fantasies concerning particular people, my attempts to get in bed with them, my actual love affairs, and so on—will remain inaccessible to the general reader for quite some time. It is likely that about a tenth of all my writings falls in this category, and this is thus far from a minor matter. Knowing that there is a lot of time to edit such pieces, I am perhaps a bit less careful when I write them than I am otherwise. I am not even sure this is the case, but I presume it is. Generally, I refrain from editing anything written a day or at most two earlier with the exception of obvious typographic errors, misspellings, awkward expressions, and the like. The anticipation of the final editing of the sensitive writings gives me a great pleasure as such, as anticipation, but I also worry a bit about my state of mind at the time. That is, I worry about potentially excessive editing, which may be prompted by some combination of old age, illness, or perhaps even another great love I may enjoy in the future. The only kind of editing with which I would feel comfortable is a purely stylistic one, but I fear that boundaries between style and other—ostensibly more important—things may in time blur or shift in my mind. Anyhow, at this point I can only promise myself that I will limit my final editing to the absolute minimum. Repetitions, stock terms or expressions, and boring amorous details should be carefully examined, but I should leave the rest as it is. After all, the only reason why this material deserves a special treatment in the future is that even I, not only the general reader, have been prevented from examining it closely enough over the years. However, this does not give even me the license to change anything at will just because it has not yet been shared with anyone else but a few of those who have been my confidants, lovers, or wives over the years.

Addendum (September 12, 2017)

Behold, it is time for final editing at long last. But it is not old age, illness, or another great love that prompted me to it. Instead, it is my liberation. As of early last year, I am a denizen of another world. Although I will continue adding to my Residua till my last breath, the greatest project of my life is now behind me. And for good. All that remains for me to do with it is final editing, for I do not trust any other editor at this stage of my life. All the remaining boo-boos are of my own choice, that is.