I'm on my Facebook having a quick chat with a French friend.
And then I see him. He's online. At the very top of my list.
When I saw him for the first time a while back, my world fell quiet (this is a thing that happens to me often)
and I was smitten. SMITTEN!
Long story short a friend of mine is his friend, and he noticed I was being gigglish every time I saw him. He made me sit next to him so that we could have a chat.
Cat got my tongue.
And then he has a boyfriend!
That didn't stop me from adding him as a friend. My crush was intensifying.
I send a message!
"Seen".
What the ROYAL fuck! That "seen" vibe is the bane of mankind's social media existence. It makes you wanna crawl into a hole and die!
Okay not die, but just hold oneself in a foetal position and cry.
I kinda want to say hi again but he may not reply my message. I had sent him an article I read on the New Yorker, and he didn't comment. All I got was that stupid "seen" thing.
Also, this idea of imposing on someone when they clear feel jack for you doesn't work.
Sunday, 28 June 2015
Sunday, 21 June 2015
That Scent That Brings Back Memories
Scent:
Definition of scent in English:
noun
1A distinctive smell, especially one that is pleasant:the scent of freshly cut hay
(Oxford dictionary 2015)
It is true what they say about scent and memory. Recently at a party, some nice fellow wore a scent, a scent that reminded me of many happy times a few years ago. It's a scent that makes my nostrils flare. It's a scent that makes my neck hairs stand on end, a scent so amazing that I remain fascinated with the capabilities that particular perfumery manages to throw on to the market.
The very instant I recognised that smell, my world fell silent for a few seconds, nothing was audible. In a room full of loud music and people, I was transported back into a memory, one of my favourite memories.
I was standing in the street waiting for him, and it had just rained. The smell of fresh earth from the flower pots that are scattered across the city, combined with that rustic smell of concrete and metal from cars and buildings. The way that particular street glimmered in the evening sunset after the afternoon rain. In a sea of people rushing to go home, he was walking towards me. It all seemed kind of surreal, in some sort of slow motion. I feel that was the effect of love, it's ability to slow everything else down and make you focus on this one person.
As he inched closer towards me, the smell of rain slowly vanished, and was replaced with one of a spicy, if somewhat peppery wood. The closer he got, the more defined and present his scent was. It was new. It was exhilarating, it was wild, and it made every hair of mine stand on end. And when he hugged me, his own smell, combined with that particular scent he wore, made my slightly damp self (I'd been rained on) feel like the luckiest person on that street. In that moment, I didn't want to let go of him.
Definition of scent in English:
noun
1A distinctive smell, especially one that is pleasant:the scent of freshly cut hay
(Oxford dictionary 2015)
It is true what they say about scent and memory. Recently at a party, some nice fellow wore a scent, a scent that reminded me of many happy times a few years ago. It's a scent that makes my nostrils flare. It's a scent that makes my neck hairs stand on end, a scent so amazing that I remain fascinated with the capabilities that particular perfumery manages to throw on to the market.
The very instant I recognised that smell, my world fell silent for a few seconds, nothing was audible. In a room full of loud music and people, I was transported back into a memory, one of my favourite memories.
I was standing in the street waiting for him, and it had just rained. The smell of fresh earth from the flower pots that are scattered across the city, combined with that rustic smell of concrete and metal from cars and buildings. The way that particular street glimmered in the evening sunset after the afternoon rain. In a sea of people rushing to go home, he was walking towards me. It all seemed kind of surreal, in some sort of slow motion. I feel that was the effect of love, it's ability to slow everything else down and make you focus on this one person.
As he inched closer towards me, the smell of rain slowly vanished, and was replaced with one of a spicy, if somewhat peppery wood. The closer he got, the more defined and present his scent was. It was new. It was exhilarating, it was wild, and it made every hair of mine stand on end. And when he hugged me, his own smell, combined with that particular scent he wore, made my slightly damp self (I'd been rained on) feel like the luckiest person on that street. In that moment, I didn't want to let go of him.
Someone bumped into me, almost spilling both our drinks. I was back in the room of loud music and noisy people, back to the present.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Monday, 15 June 2015
That Hot Waiter In Westlands
He had a tight fitting white shirt, grey chinos, black pointed shoes and an air of authority.
He is really well built, muscular, with really big biceps.
He is eye candy at a seafood restaurant in Westlands.
My friend and I moved tables so that we could sneak glances at this sexy fine man. We have no shame in doing this. To appreciate his delectable looks, we had to move closer. There were a number of women who also kept requesting to seat in that area, but we got there first (HA, in your faces besh!).
Women in that entire restaurant were also vibrating in their seats every time he passed by.
The best part? He knows that he is good looking.
He is really well built, muscular, with really big biceps.
He is eye candy at a seafood restaurant in Westlands.
My friend and I moved tables so that we could sneak glances at this sexy fine man. We have no shame in doing this. To appreciate his delectable looks, we had to move closer. There were a number of women who also kept requesting to seat in that area, but we got there first (HA, in your faces besh!).
Women in that entire restaurant were also vibrating in their seats every time he passed by.
The best part? He knows that he is good looking.
YAAAAAAS!
How was the food? Absolutely delicious! Just like him.
That gay Kenyan blog (again)
Back to writing
No, I don't want to.
"Your old blog had an impact on Kenyans."
But....didn't they find other blogs to read?
"I miss your writing."
Damn it, you have my number, Whatsapp me!
This, and many other statements from concerned parties were part of the reason I've returned to blogging.
Look at that, my old blog's address vanished, and has been replaced with some Mandarin....thing.
The old blog went because it was revealed to the public. It went because it had embarrassing posts. It went, as a result of being in some sort of crisis of personality, usually associated with completing an undergraduate programme. It went, because our government was on some sort of spree, flexing its arms on alleged dissidents that spoke ill of it. At the same time, legislators were attempting to introduce some stupid anti-gay bill, that called for public stoning of homosexuals in Kenya. It had to go.
Also, I can't find other gay Kenyan's blogs. GNM, Gays of Nairobi et al, what happened?
The title of this blog
I didn't want to use the same old one. And to be quite honest, African American culture inspired its title. I took 'That Hoe Over There' and made it 'That Homo Over There', which still makes THOT as an acronym. Read its origin here.
Am I a THOT in it's traditional definition? Maybe. Is the title berating my sexuality? No. Look, I feel that being called a 'homo' needs to be lightened up a bit. I am attempting to lighten it up by titling this blog in what is in my view, a lighthearted way. I am not making sense, but along the way (pray this blog lasts) you might see my point. I will not be surprised if I see angry emails from LGBTQIA (that acronym is getting too long) people about the title.
Am I a THOT in it's traditional definition? Maybe. Is the title berating my sexuality? No. Look, I feel that being called a 'homo' needs to be lightened up a bit. I am attempting to lighten it up by titling this blog in what is in my view, a lighthearted way. I am not making sense, but along the way (pray this blog lasts) you might see my point. I will not be surprised if I see angry emails from LGBTQIA (that acronym is getting too long) people about the title.
What will I write about?
Anything! I look at this blog as a way to express myself, through the words that I type. I know my friends will find this blog and know who the author is, based on how I write. It happened with my previous blog. That's just fine.
Is it that serious?
It is never that serious.
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