I was sitting at a table, around some of my friends after a night out in the city, and the look in their faces were questionable to what can be explained as depressed or sad or not a satisfied facial expressions. I can relate. Why am I so depressed, once again another night wasted and I got no numbers nor did I meet anyone interesting other than those I was with, not even for a one night stand which I am not looking to get into. I am starting to wonder why we go to clubs other than to have fun with your friends when there are alternative like movies or dinners. I thought the attention is to possibly meet someone that may be interesting enough to talk and to have their number and to continue talking. Although I had a great time a club, in my opinion, is the perfect social outlet to meet that right kind of guy, who is sexy, charming, lovely, respectful, who might be a freak and want to start something committed. Maybe that guy can be the one who take me to distance. Because one way or the other, there are motivate in going to clubs other to have fun with your boiz. And why a gay club of all places. The black gay community is so small that if I wanted to hang out with my boiz I would not go to a gay club.

I tried to have in mind the notion of, I am not looking, or I am looking all depends on how I am feeling. Sometimes I try not to showcase my desire but the honest truth is, I am always looking to meet that guy who might be right fit. I am always trying to talk, because maybe, just maybe that guy I talk too might be the one. Though he tease me by flinging me a look or two, or sometimes a smile as he passes by, or acts as if he not interested, all of these signs attract me more and more to him; like two opposite magnet. It cannot be help, it cannot be solves. But sometimes I tease him also by letting my denim jean fall rite on my ass, dancing those dances as if I want to make love in this club, or sometime I walk purposely so that his eye can fall directly on my ass or most prefer my eyes. You see, his eye goes to my ass, I am nothing but an ass and all that he wants is to get that dick of his inside. The game never ends. He got want I want and I may have want he want to ripe apart.

The life that we all are familiar with is not like those of a romance novels, where the setting is a library “pretending” to be studious and look for intelligent book and to find a sexy fine ass brotha who is reading and from time to times you two are catching eyes and then later bump into each other and well you know the rest. My favorite is the subway. You can’t sometimes help to stare because you wonder, when as soon as his eyes and your eyes cross path your mind start to wonder of all the possibility outcome of this romantic journey. He is cute, sexy, might be intelligent or not, but for the sake or argument lets just say that he is and he is of all that we are looking for in that man. You two cannot help to stare back and forth at each other, letting our eye flirts get carried away, to then daydream of what he thinking of, to dream of what may be or may come then soon you find out your stop is here and time to get off or his. Sometimes a stare can be to long, if it is then what? What is the rule then? Who makes the first move?

That is always the unanswered question of this lifestyle because who ever is able to make that first move control the outcome, of where and how far it may go. You got to admit it take courage a lot of courage which some, if not most of us don’t have. Sometimes I wanted to say hi how u doing? Sometimes stupid like, slow day today? I think we as human lost that capacity to ask the simplest of question to get what we want. Because if we just ask we might receive, if we never ask the gap to wonder ponder of what could have been is enormous. Maybe we may have reasons to be sad or sometimes sad after all.

I adore this pic, i took this picture while in Paris in the Louve museum, that may have be the only African pic in the whole museum. IDK if there are more but this one is so beautiful