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Posts Tagged ‘gay’

Funny. I tried to write something last night but I was so tired I fell asleep on my keyboard. Having a full time job doesn’t leave much room to do anything else other than sleeping, at least not for me. (more…)

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I really need to get this out of my head. (more…)

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yes. it definitely is exciting to observe every move you do. (more…)

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sometimes I wonder if I’m asking for something that is just too much. sometimes I just think I can afford being someone who’s always longing for more. when we don’t get what we want over and over, we tend to become bitter. sorry, let me correct that: when I don’t get what I want, I become bitter. (more…)

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It is always scary to see yourself so exposed and so fragile in front of others. It is even worse when you start to question your own ability to hide your feelings and fears, an ability that I’ve always prided myself to have. I could never be so wrong in my entire life.  (more…)

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Soon this post wiil be translated into English. I just had to write it in my mother tongue first so I could make sure everything was on the right place, and that I could freely express my feelings. If you do read the things I write, just wait a little more. The translation will come in another post. Just to let you know, this post is about eye-fucking. 

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It’s so funny to watch me become incredibly interested in a guy and fail miserably at flirting. To be honest, I don’t even think I can flirt, it’s more like stuttered words full of hope.  And it’s always the same thing: in one moment I’m so sure I’ll never fall for anyone ever again because that’s just how it is for me; and then, days/months/years later, here I am, doing the exact opposite.

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It bugs me the fact I’ve been spotting you around town so many times lately. And today I think you spotted me too, because when I glanced in your direction I saw that you had seen me, even though your choice was to walk away.

Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with you. I don’t think I know love. It was  more like fixation, fascination, since high school. Your enigmatic figure always got me wondering about what was going on in this head of yours. It was also funny the fact that, whenever I thought about it, I would spot you soon. That’s the relationship we developed, err, I developed.

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This is what is written on the laptop screen:
On the left side: gay group
On the right side: I only hook-up with white guys who are not fat or feminine. It’s not prejudice, It’s only my option/my taste.

I’ll just leave this here.

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I think I need glasses. And I new mind too. Because the things I remember from last night’s almost love affair are just foggy images and one-sided and intentional touches (coming from me).

Maybe I was just curious about being with you for the first time.
Another way to put it is saying that I was happy to be there with you.
Remember? Didn’t I tell you how much I used to desire you? Everything is so clear now, it’s easy to see why I was there. No, you don’t remember: I never told you.

What makes me ashamed and sad is that it’s always me the one in need, the one desperately trying to get into somebody else’s pants. With you was no different. I could see your arousal as clear as water, but I could see you avoiding my gaze as well, almost reluctantly allowing me to hold you, to feel you and too show you exactly how I was feeling. I felt pleasure, of course, but not as much as I would enjoy if we both were into it.

Today I even ventured into talking to you on Facebook. Of course I contacted you saying I had dreamed about you. And of course I lied when you asked me what I had dreamed about. Can you imagine? “Hey, I wanted to talk because last night I had this wet dream with/about you…”

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