Change Of URL + My Dirty Laundry

Guess what good people?

No, I haven't gotten laid.

I've moved my blog to a different platform, where you'll find all my dirty laundry from my younger blogging years. All my recent posts are there as well.

www.kenyahomo.wordpress.com

Enjoy.

Why I Don't Like Dating Apps

If you are fortunate to have a smartphone in 2015, and you just happen to be gay, then chances are that you've been well informed about dating apps, such as Grindr, Hornet, Jack'd, Scruff, Planet Romeo, and Tinder. There's probably a whole lot of others, but these ones seem to be the most popular.

I absolutely hate them.

I hate them because of the experiences I've had with them.

That someone decided to make a location/GPS based app where you compete against many others, on a thumbnail of a photo with a brief description of oneself, and pray to your God that someone messages you, is utterly genius, if not demeaning. A catalog of gay men to go through! Wow! It's like looking at a food menu. "This one contains nuts".

If it's not the unsolicited dick pics and aggressive men who catch feelings when you cite incompatibility with them on Grindr, it's the absolutely silent men who swipe right on Tinder, and don't reply to your hello message. What's the fucking point if you swiped right and you're not going to say hi? Cat got your tongue?

I have deleted Grindr three times this year, I am trying not to use it. Unfortunately, when I wake up hangover and horny, a semi-tipsy self downloads the stupid app in a futile attempt to get laid. I'm still running Tinder, but the outlooks on it are so bleak.

Fun fact: Tinder was designed for heterosexuals, but gay men and women have discovered that if you set the preference to show you same sex individuals, you will find people! It is more transparent than Grindr, based on Facebook profiles.

Be prepared for unsolicited dick photos on Grindr. I don't care how big it is, it's how you use the damn thing. The absolute worst sex of 2015 came recently (lol see what I did there), from a good looking (and very arrogant) anonymous user on Grindr.
He claimed he wasn't big. When I saw it for myself in person, it was an absolute lie. It was big. 20 minutes of bad, one style, awkward sex, I asked him to stop. I got showered, and I left. I have never heard from him again, nor do I want to hear from him again. In my black book (I have one. Every gay man should have one.), he will have a rating of 3/10. He is the reason I am going to stick to average sized ones.

The mug shots are just as bad. My photos used to be vague for anonymity's sake. It is absolutely strange (and to an extent, hilarious) when a friend of yours is making advances. I send my photo, and they go "Oh KH, ni wewe? (It's you?)", and they share theirs and discover it's that friend you meet at parties, who is also a bottom. You never discuss the encounter. Ever. At least I found out that they have game.

Oh, I almost forgot, Grindr at some point had a whole cache of blackmailers. Blackmailers are evil, evil, gay men and their straight cronies who lure victims to their houses, beat them, rob them, and in some cases even kill. Please be careful when using them, and always meet in a public place first, no matter how horny you are.

Perhaps I'll stick to the more traditional way of meeting guys, via introductions or at the club, where corny pick up lines are thrown at me.

The only good thing that came out of Tinder, was that I made a good friend. Grindr was good for getting laid. The very core goal of the app is to try and get men laid.

Bad sex is still sex lol.

Unable To Go With The Flow

It's the same damn cycle every time.

Usually on social media or dating apps such as Grindr.

They are usually very good looking.

We get talking. And boy oh boy don't we talk. A month, two months passes by, until an idea of meeting is floated.

We meet. I am trying not to get my expectations up. I mean, we're so in sync. You also listen to CHVRCHES? Fantastic!  The day, coffee house venue, and time are selected.

Date day appears.

They are late. Ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty. Forty...

I am writing a message that I am leaving in twenty minutes, I do not like waiting on people, or dates. I can only wait for a flight or a doctor. Or dinner.

They appear.

We talk and beat around the bush, but then I notice time is moving quickly. So I stock up the barrel, and shoot the question, "what are you looking for?"

"I am going with the flow, I don't know". 

I am disappointed. I have gotten out of something a few months ago that was entirely "going with the flow", and I got burned at the end of it.

Same scripts, different cast. I cannot do this. I walk to the noisy bus terminal feeling disappointed.

Later, we talk about it. I explain that I cannot do "going with the flow". The light that was building up in me has now turned off.

They mail me to say that they were not genuine about their answer. This alarms me even more. A younger me would have been happy, over the moon even. But integrity is important to me. If you can't be genuine with your feelings, how will I trust you? I declined their advance, asking to remain friends, as we have much in common.

A reply with many words about being disappointed in my answer, and following the sun or something, is displayed on my screen. I choose not to reply. It is marked as read, and archived.
I tell him on another platform that yes, I received it, but I didn't see the need to reply. How does one reply to a conclusion?

Later, he caught feelings and asked me I won't reconsider. I tell him the truth, the light in me vanished, and that I don't have the emotional capacity to pursue it any further. He is now upset, and not talking to me.

He needs time and space to get over it.

I will follow my heart, and my heart is saying no to this fellow.Yes, he is younger than me. Nairobi's small, gay society doesn't have much. One must scale downwards and shake (or rob) a cradle in attempt to find someone to date.

All my dating apps are now uninstalled, and I've no man to focus on at the moment. I am not looking for a new man, that process of getting to know them all over again is quite a tedious one.

Tedious indeed.

That I Will Stop Having titles Beginning with "That"

....Because it is limiting title generation.

Also, hello! It's been two months and some days, since last I wrote.

Blogging isn't especially difficult, I just haven't been particularly motived in recent times. The question of "when will you write again?" keeps popping up.

I will change that by resuming my blogging tendencies, even though not many (if any) individuals read my posts.

That I Don't Know Who Texts First

I remember dancing at a club when I met him. He was stood at the bar, holding his drinks, under the blue hue of the club's many strobe lights.

I thought "hey, he looks nice, I'll go and say hi".

So I did.

A little conversation was had with him during the course of the night, and eventually I got his number. (Ballsy!)

A few weeks later, after several conversations on whatsapp, we met. One could only hope that it wasn't "beer goggles" that got me his number. My girl friend said he looked cute, but then, she was high as well. His display photo looked...decent.

We met.

And I was quite smitten.

I have a thing for smokers who drink whisky. His mouth tasted utterly amazing.

I'm just wondering though, after the first date, who makes contact first, and after how long?

It's kinda nice to feel wanted though. 

That I Am Being Dated Remotely

Isn't the whole idea of dating someone to make them happy, and to be a duo that's supposed to go far together?

Evidently not. When they tell me that the reason for their absence and silence is that they are 'complicated' and that they 'have problems taking action', what does that even mean? 

I do not know how to date a person via WhatsApp.
My friends have decided that I am dating a phantom.

I agree with them.
 

That I Am Too Gay To Hang Out With

'The Kinsey scale, also called the Heterosexual–Homosexual Rating Scale, attempts to describe a person's sexual experience or response at a given time. It uses a scale from 0, meaning exclusively heterosexual, to 6, meaning exclusively homosexual.' (The Kinsey Institute, 2011)

The scale describes me as 'exclusively homosexual', of which I've no doubt. It means I am very gay, that I only date men, that I only have sex with men, that I can tell the difference between teal and green, and so on.

It was no surprise when my request to hang out with a friend, who is on the down low, for a future event, was politely declined (in many words), as he would find it difficult to explain to his friends why a 'very gay' individual such as myself knows him, and has the audacity to greet him, and sit in the same area with him.

I wasn't even mad, I told him that I respected his view, and left it at that.

In my heart though, I felt sadness.

To be fair, you have to look at it from his perspective as well, being on the down low is rough, keeping up appearances and putting on acts, he can't really be yourself without the fear of everyone else finding out, and his life changing significantly as a result. He has constructed his life to what it is now, a successful young professional. He wouldn't dare risk throwing it all away because he was seeing hanging out with a gay guy who has a similar interest. People would ask questions, and that would be the beginning of the end of his carefully curated image. 

In my case, I felt sad because I can never really fit in some circles. It's not like I asked to be overwhelmingly gay, it's just incredibly difficult for me to hide aspects of myself. It's the little things like my waving of hands, or my voice's intonation... those are a right giveaway. I am not ashamed of myself, but I wish that other individuals could be more accommodating of such things. It's a bit hard fitting in heterosexual spaces. I don't know how to 'turn it down a notch'. 

I don't even feel like going for that event anymore.