Category "Love, sex, etc."
Last month, I spent the weekend in Lyon with Erwanébruno. I will never have said it enough: they are so cute!
Lyon is a gorgeous city, big but very pleasant. I could be a tourist again just like in Latin America...
The last evening, we all went to the MiddleGender party, which reminded me of the alternative gay scene in London. I missed it so much. I was very quickly drunk and I started kissing a lot of guys until I ended up kissing a girl. When I realised, I understood how much alcohol numbed my mind, or maybe that was more general... Anyway, I had no great revelation: I really am a faggot. To make it, I then kissed a straight guy (who was consentant).
I had a great weekend, thanks to Erwanébruno!!!
Update: my abstinence ended during that weekend.
I didn't have sex for more than a year. Holy shit.
I have to say I have good excuses. First, I got scabies. Then, I was in Latin America and finding a gay bar there is a mission. Then I came back to France where I don't have proper accomodation yet. So, huh, don't judge me!
Does it actually bring me something to be "abstinent" like that? No. And also I totally forgot how sex works. My next sexual adventure might be... unsettling.
And then I started wanting to explore some alternatives, such as in this advert found on Embruns.
If you can't read it, go there.
I have to fix this situation asap...
Lately, I accepted all the shit that happened without raising an eyebrow. With scabies, it was difficult but I thought it was just London's "farewell present". But this time, I can't take it anymore.
A few hours ago, I passed by the Centre Point Tower. Everytime I show friends around town, I always make sure they know that the first time I shagged in this town, it was in the building just opposite this tower, which is pretty much the centre of the town. Usually it doesn't impress them that much but I still feel kind of proud of it.
Well you know what?
The building has been destroyed. Destroyed. Erased. Annihilated.
The bastards! It's like they really want to get rid of me in every possible way.
And there's more. the tube that was supposed to take us to the airport on Saturday will be closed for engineering works. What's the point of paying £100 a month to get the Tube (only for zones 1 and 2) if it's never working?!
Well you know what, London?
FUCK YOU TOO!
Update: I've just informed the guy I had shared that moment in that building, and he told me they are going to build a big tower just there. I told him I would like it to be very big then, and he assured me there would be "a floor for each thrust". Ha, I'm gonna miss british humor.
I'm leaving London in a month for my big trip. A month ago, I decided to send messages to some people, because I'll never see them again and it's the occasion to tell them things that they'll like, I think.
- I started with a message telling Mr Really BIG all the good things I think about him. Yeah, maybe our last time was terrible, but I still think he's a good person. He liked the message but oddly enough, he engaged in some dirty talk.
- I, of course, sent a message to the object of my obsession, which sounded a bit like a message to forgive each other. He's the one who reacted in the most surprising way: he answered nearly straight away and told me he shivered when he read my message. It made me glad. (Hee!)
- I sent a message to BFBF, for all the favours he will have done to me.
- I also contacted people with whom I didn't sleep! I sent a message to Vicky to tell her about my departure, that we should meet up for dinner...
- At last, I texted the first guy with whom I slept here...
That's it, I've contacted all the people that I will have found special here.
I wouldn't have believed it but actually, it's going to be more difficult to leave London than I thought.
Ah, being hit on by a stranger on the street, what a fantasy! It already happened to me to accost some guys on the street, even on the Tube, but I have never been accosted though. And finally, on Sunday morning, it happened! But totally not in the way I had fancied it.
I was coming back from an exercise session, wet of sweat, with my little bottle of water in my hand. I passed by a guy wearing some skinny trousers, a jacket covered with spikes and long red-dyed hair. He started walking towards me and said to me:
Hello, blondie!
I wondered whether he was talking to me and turned around. He was looking at me, his eyes were like empty. He must have been either very drunk, or fucked up. No, I couldn't get hit on by an interesting or nice guy, or even, a simple guy, no, I had to get hit on by some junkie as high as a kite.
I asked him with a hypocritical smile if he was alright but he didn't answer and kept walking towards me. So I decided to ignore him and I kept walking. But he was still after me! I suddenly understood all these women harrassed on the streets by psychos. I walked faster until he gave up.
Blondie!
Last Saturday, I met someone.
I mean, actually, I already met him a year ago. I liked him but I thought he wasn't interested. Last Saturday I found him at the same friend's party, I waved to him and asked him if he remembered me, and he said yes. we spoke together for the whole hour that followed, he told me I should have asked for his number a year ago, I started teasing him and I suggested that he spends the night at my place.
In the Tube, we laughed a lot because we were drunk and because we were involving people in our bickers. It was funny, this natural complicity with him. It was something I had been looking for in a guy for a long time and that I had never encountered.
Once at my place, we went to bed. And there... I wasn't excited anymore.
I don't know exactly why, so suddenly, I didn't want to sleep with him anymore. All I knew for sure was that I didn't want to go any further.
And he kept going, he said he liked me, that he was glad I came and he even said that he had hoped I would come before going to the party. Wow. That's flattering, still! When he would try and know what I thought and felt, I would dodge by answering that it was far too soon to say anything.
He then said he didn't want to have sex because he was too drunk. Fair enough, that suited me perfectly! And then he started teasing me under the bedsheets. I had to use every possible trick to avoid sleeping with him. The morning after, I woke up at the edge of my bed, and he was stuck to me. I managed to make him go before 10am. In the evening, he sent me a friendly message suggesting that we meet up during the week. I still haven't answered, I don't think I'm gonna answer.
So yeah, that's it, I've been totally myself in teasing a guy and then not being up to the task: I'm a cold slut. And besides that, the most despairing thing, is that I met a very good candidate for the position of "man of my life" and it didn't work out.
I received this today on a dating website:
hi i am 24years and i am looking for alove can u be my lover ok i am a good fucker.
So much to say... (SIGH.)
The best destination I visited in Spain is the one I didn't plan.
I woke up early in the morning in the earth-costing hotel because I had decided to go to Sevilla, which is very close. I ran to go and see the Alhambra but it was, despite all, too late and tourists had already taken over. So I hung around, took a few pictures...
...and I left for the town center. But I tried another path and got lost in Granada's woods!
It was THE loneliness moment of my journey. A little faggot with rubbish shoes (my feet hurt so much!), a small pink jumper, lost in the spanish forest although he had to check out from the hotel very soon. I finally found my way and checked coaches to Sevilla: I had to go fast! I ran to the hotel, told them I was leaving although I was supposed to stay an extra day (suck it!!!), I went straight to the coach station but it was already too late to get a ticket. I had to stay three more hours at the coach station. I decided then to have a paëlla.
The coach arrived in Sevilla in three hours (Granada is very ill-served by trains, you'd better take a coach) and it was completely different from Granada. Sevilla, the main town of Andalucia, is much bigger and more lively. Very quickly, I found an Internet café where I could print my train tickets for Barcelona and a gay bar list. Likewise, I found a hostel very quickly, twice as less expensive as the hotel in Granada, very nice and friendly (breakfast for free and stuff!). My roommates seemed nice but I didn't have time to make friends, I had to run to discover Sevilla where I was to spend only one night.
I visited very quickly, still with my shit shoes and... ah... Sevilla is absolutely magnificient. Spain Square (you have one in every Spanish city and they are big) is surprising: a massive building, free to enter! No security agent, no one. And it's beautiful.
I then ran to a gay bar but I found on my way another Easter procession! Ten times bigger than the one in Granada! Impossible to go through! I managed to find a way and I could get in the gay district. I entered a gay bar that actually was lesbian. The staff were very friendly, a very nice little lesbian and a stunning transgender, they even offered me a shot for the road! (But it's said to be usual there...)
Then I went to meet another couchsurfer, Antonio, down south. It was good I had drunk because my feet couldn't take it anymore. I got lost again but the Spaniards are very helpful! I could meet Antonio and his friends and we had a very good time. I made a video by the way (very dark):
I really liked Antonio, a guy that is charming, funny, adventurous and with an incredible intelligence. "Man of my life"-able :D
We made a quick picture (he's on the left), we were supposed to go to a club but my feet just died, tiredness was showing on my face and my nose started bleeding. I then had to go back to the hostel :(
Waking up at Renan's is great. Through the window door, you can see the sunny square... He took me to the Buen Retiro Gardens:
To the Atocha train station (there's a tropical garden inside with turtles, just like a zoo, woh!!!):
I then went to the Museo del Prado to admire the greatest spanish classic artists' masterpieces. By the way, I'm sure Velazquez was gay. Look at the picture of The Forge of Vulcan, it's even gayer than a YMCA CD cover! There, look:
The evening, I met up with Cédric who paid for the restaurant (that's so nice...). He lives in a great flat, north, with a massive terrace and a great view.
I let you imagine the follow-up...
When I woke up in the train, I could see Spain through the window. It was still dark and the sun was progressively rising, as I was discovering the rocky and mountainous, very racy landscape of Spain. I already loved this country!
When I lay foot in Madrid, the first thing I noticed was the scents. Every town has a specific feeling. In MAdrid, it smelt good! I went to the metro station and I found something unexpected:
Yes, some huge installation lost in a metro station... It was nice anyway!
I went to Renan's, a Brazilian met on CouchSurfing.com who let me squat his place for three days. He lives right in the centre, seconds away from the Puerta del Sol, which is practical! I rested for a bit, the time for him to finish his online exams (oops!), and we had lunch in a restaurant around. Oh, tapas! Fuck the diet!
Then, I met Awen, another Brazilian settled in Madrid, married to a Spaniard and who wanted to show me around, including the Palacio Real...
... but also to take me to a yoga and meditation course full of gay men! And I regret I didn't take any picture. Nothing extraordinary, just a bunch of gay guys in a big room but not big enough for everyone! I managed to follow the yoga course despire the language barrier (just check out the sexy teacher!), however the meditation course wasn't that simple! We then all went eating to a restaurant with an "at will" buffet (it's common there, 10? generally).
Then I met up with Renan and we went to a gay bar and then we met up with his friends in a gay club. I found the gay scene in Madrid looked like the parisian scene...
We got drunk. One of his mates, Cédrid, a French guy, was very interesting and we talked a lot until we kissed. He invited me to his place but I delayed his offer as I didn't want to give Renan the feeling I was seeing his room as a hotel.
For a first day in Spain, it was well busy!
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