The Dating Game

I mean it when I say that I like dating in such a big city as London. Not that I’m not ready for a relationship but if I don’t meet the right guy, I’ll still shag him and life goes on. Needless to say that I get my share of freaks from hell and heartache from time to time but that’s what friends are there for and I see it as the rule of the dating game.

I’m cute and young so just for the sake of the ones who are not or not anymore or who don’t want to, I have to enjoy as much as possible while I can. That’s my opinion and I’ll stick to it.

Good looks

I don’t know what I’m thinking today. I’ve been obsessed the whole day with people who are good looking and how lucky they are. It’s not jealousy as I'm not ugly myself in the 1st place and I don’t even want to be a stunner that everyone stares at in awe anytime I walk into a room. Good job I don’t care about that because I’d be miserable otherwise. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being a stunner just for 24 hours or better, 48 so I know what I’d look like upon waking up.

Good looks are a true benefit though. A study has proved that nice-featured people tend to be more successful than say, the not-so-nice-featured ones. Some people managed to get paid to think about what good looks bring. Good on them!

I remember at school where guys and girls were popular mainly thanks to their good looks. Coming from a rich family was the ultimate cooler than cool. Still is!

Although I wasn’t ugly, I wasn’t good looking enough nor rich enough to be cool and popular. A new class had to be created for people like me; the nice ones. I was told I had the reputation of being a nice guy. Neither cool nor rich, just nice... Oh well.

I can’t think of any disadvantage of being pretty. It would be different if I were a girl but for men, it’s all good. We are even said to be sexy with white hair when we become silver foxes. People don’t seem to care as much either if or when we grow a spare tyre around the waist or have wrinkles on the face. When that happens to me, I’ll seriously have to fill in the gaps of my looks with nice personality. Just what I’ve always done.

Happily Ever After

Happily ever after, happily ever fucking after! I don’t think so.

I’m so sick of all these novels and movies, even the porn ones. They’re only about either how people meet and maybe fall in love or just give a tiny little insight of people’s lives. Nobody ever mentions rough patches and deep crisis, drifting away from each other or just loving without actually being in love.

I have to learn and experience all this by myself. Hence the staggering difference between entertainment and real life.

Why am I Me?

I often wonder why I am me.

I’ve never told anyone about that as I don’t want them to think I’ve lost it or that I should be locked up somewhere safe. I don’t think about that very often, though.

What bothers me with this “why am I me or myself” thing is that I sometimes feel like the world revolves around me. Oh, now I can already see whoever I’d talk about that thinking  that I’m just another queen who needs to get over herself and they might actually be right. Oh well, never mind.

Two questions keep coming back to my mind:

1: How come I’m there, me, in my little body and mind among nearly 6.5 billion people???

2: Why can I only see the world through my own eyes?

It’s not that I feel trapped in my own body but I could do with a little change of perspective.

My Straight Brother

My brother is an amazing guy. We’re not biological brothers as such but it feels like we are despite minor differences. I’m black and gay while he’s straight and white. I’m a photographer, he’s a very talented writer and yet we’re incredibly connected. We share a French background and broken family history. Moreover we’ve got similar values as well as conceptions of life and that’s what really matters after all.

I almost feel blessed to have somebody in my life who cares for me that much and who’s not in love with me. I always think of him as the new kind of straight guys. Very relaxed and nothing to prove. The way forward.

Open Relationships

I used to be scared of open relationships because I dreaded the possibility of finding somebody I’d love more or just somebody else I’d love or better sex or someone who would make me break the golden rule to shag a guy only once no matter how much you fancy him. Too much of a gamble.

But then I realised being scared of all this is actually the sign that I don’t trust my current  relationship.

There’s so much pressure on us to stick to the squeaky clean romantic couple model even for gay men.

As far as I’m concerned, I’m still in the process of breaking free from the conventions and allowing myself to think out of the box without guilt. Love is infinite and as I meet new people, I don’t stop loving the ones I already know. Same as if I had several children. I wouldn’t love the 1st one less as siblings would follow.


I don’t mind growing old. I really don’t. What scares the hell out of me though is realising one day that I failed to seize opportunities. The thought that something is over and will never happen again as it first did drives me insane. That’s why I’m a lot more outspoken than a few years ago and have a go at as many things as possible.

I remember the first time the notion of time occurred to me was when I was five or six. I tried set my watch three hours backwards so I could live twice the same event. To finish me off, I also realised I didn’t have any super power. Some time later, I understood that as I was alive, I’d have to die eventually. No wonder why I wasn’t such a happy child.

This brings Eric to my mind. We were at the same school. He was very cute, a bit older than me and I suspected he was gay. My gaydar was already fine tuned then I guess. Of course, even though we chatted every time we bumped into each other, I never dared to ask him out or even for a coffee. I suppose I was waiting for him to make the first step, which would be the start of a happy long term relationship, like in the Hollywood movies I was watching then. He had a fatal accident a few months later and I never had a chance to get to know him as I wanted. Ironically I became very good friends with his step sister who told me he liked me. Besides his death, the other difficult part is that I’ll never know what could have happened between us.


Capitalism is a curse.

I’ve just told my boss where to stick it just a week after making it to a senior management role. That was my lifetime dream. How sad! I felt like a slave, a rich slave but a slave all the same.

I have no guilt for the money I’ve earned, which is more than both my parents did. My teams and I have worked hard enough for that money.

I was and still am annoyed by the fact that my salary and bonuses are a mere fraction of the whole profit made by my now-former company and this money will go to a small bunch of arrogant wankers who believe they’re part of an elite. Their sole concern is increasing their profit at all cost without actually working for it. Moreover, they’ll happily bully you if the results are not up to their expectations. I felt guilty to be part of this and just couldn’t stand it anymore.

What I’m going through now is probably just another case of social reproduction as I come from a middle class family and I couldn’t adapt to a higher social status.

I don’t really know what to do with my life now, though. That’s the trick with capitalism. You’re either in the system or against it.

Muscle Mary

I’m such a cliché I literally feel sick. Sometimes I think I could only be described as a gym bunny, a Muscle Mary or any other silly name. One thing to defend myself (if I had to) is that I truly feel happier now than ever before I started working out on a regular basis.

The gym and the whole process of developing muscles boosted my self-confidence. I’m relatively happy with myself now and it’s very reassuring to think of my body as the one thing I can have a bit of control on. On top of it, I get a lot more attention and compliments now than 5 or 6 years ago.

I particularly love the feeling in the muscles after the work out. It’s the best start of the day. The icing on the cake is that I get to shower and share a sauna session with a few hunks.


What is it with this whole PC thing? Europe’s now getting more and more heavily infected by this mind numbness. So much hypocrisy and condescension make me sick.

Afro American or Coloured Person for example looks to me like it’s been invented by some whites or Caucasians should I say, as they thought it was such a misfortune and/or disadvantage that they could no longer bring themselves to say the simple word “Black”.

It’s very similar in France where people would rather use any other word than “Noir”. Bless them. Then, they usually refer to them as “Black”. The same word in another language is probably a lot less threatening or hurtful. Whatever.

My Gaydar Technique

After Duane Michals' Chance Meeting series

I’m a serious people watcher. In fact I’m specialised in gay spotting. Working in the City has made my Gaydar technique infallible. It’s still very homophobic out there and loads of men believe that wearing a suit masks who they are. I used to myself.

No matter where I am I always stare at men’s eyes. 9 times out of 10, upon eye contact the gay men will look away whereas the straight ones tend to think I know them and nod discreetly.

I’ve never really found out why this happens between gay men. I think for a start I can’t help the look in my eyes that always enquires about men’s sexuality. I have to admit that I often look away myself when I come across gay men and usually it’s because I don’t want them to think I’m cruising them or make them uneasy or something. I guess I’m just doing that out of curiosity to know whether I’m the only gay in the village. I’m so not and it’s nice to know.


No matter how close I am to people or love them, I sometimes find it quite hard to connect with them. I see some friends I really adore in so much pain that I’d like to take some of it from them.

Of course we all know how it works. Or do we?

When I’m myself in pain, whether emotionally or physically, the people close to me try really hard to help but it’s always pointless to me. It’s good for my morale to know that there are people around caring about me but at the end of the day, that doesn’t take the pain or worry away.


To me, cruising is fantastic and I’m turning into an expert! I love that bestial feel to it. So far, I’ve always been going to the same place and depending on the mood of the day, I tend to act differently. Either I walk around or I stand still somewhere till I see one I like.

I realised I’m more successful when I kind of dress up a bit. The sports kit is usually a safe bet. I tried the suit once to play it straight but nobody really bought into it. Maybe I tried too hard or it was the wrong crowd. The full monty, though is definitely a keeper. Once I get naked out there, I turn into a real magnet!

Having sex outside with guys I don’t know and don’t even want to know in the 1st place is the aspect of gay sex and maybe male sexuality I prefer. Just sex for the sake of sex without any commitment or guilt whatsoever. No talk, just action.

And yet, there’s a whole lot of communication going on in the attitude, the look in our eyes, the way we look, what we choose to wear or not to wear.

I’m going back!…