Hey there you guys,
I know it's been a long time since I've posted something up here on my part, but I just never got to it.. and the inspiration was also a lost cause at the time. But now I have opened a new chapter of my life and it is called "The Erasmus Experience".. I'm gonna be in Madrid for the following 5 months and today is my first they in the beautiful Spanish city! It's absolutely incredible over here.. I was really afraid that I would feel lost and not at home, but it just gave me chills.. However, I thought it would be interesting to share my experiences at this blog.. I can only imagine there are going to be a handful of gay experiences that might be incredibly interesting for you guys!
So be sure to check this blog for more soon!
Hasta luego mis amigos!
x,
B.
August 30, 2009
August 21, 2009
Dantonn is a dancer
One week ago, I discovered this guy. His name is Daniel, and he's fabulous. I can't explain what I love about him. He's just magically in love with the world around him, and he likes to rant about it. And I happen to love ranting people who are crazy and sense-making at the same time! <3
(I tried embedding the video, but because of the new HD formats on YouTube, the video fucks up the layout. So sorry.)
(I tried embedding the video, but because of the new HD formats on YouTube, the video fucks up the layout. So sorry.)
August 11, 2009
The F-word (8)
My mind could only think of one thing that day. It needs no further explanation that I was pretty nervous. Some way or another, I started to ask myself silly questions about the still fragile relationship I was developing with F. What if he didn't like me? What if he was not going to show up tonight? Of course he already knew me, but not in a profound way. Sitting together for lunch along with friends isn't exactly the same as going to a movie together. That night would be my chance to really show him who I was. I fantasized about me doing my coming-out to him. I fantasized about him doing to same. And this coincidence would of course climax with me putting my hand against the -so to speak- damp window of the car we were going to sleep in.
So far for my reckless fantasy which I would never have the balls for to carry out in real life.
F. didn't stay in the city. He didn't rent a room, so he was forced to leave Leuven every day, and come back the following. Sometimes, when he didn't have a train back home, he crashed at someone's place. I was very aware that he wouldn't be able to make for the last train home, leaving him with only one solution: staying over for the night. Did I object? Let me answer that question with another question. Is the pope a woman?
For all it's worth, he didn't seem to care. During the week before the movie, he asked me if it was okay if he stayed over, to which I eagerly answered yes. Then he asked me if he needed to bring a sleeping bag, to which I said no, because I had one laying about in my room. One thing I didn't tell him, and I have to admit that I mischievously kept my mouth shut on purpose, was that I only had one bed. I don't know if he thought about it, but I did. And every time I thought about it, it pretty much ended like the dream scenario described above.
Around 21h30 PM I started to feel unsettled. He hadn't texted me anymore since noon, and a dark fear of him not showing up slowly crept inside my happy mind. The movie started at ten o'clock, and we still had to cycle down there. The fact that "casually late" was his second name had slipped my mind. Around 21h45 he rang my doorbell, and some sort of relief and happiness quickly filled me, as the fears I had scurried away.
Going up the stairs, he asked me: "So it's no problem that I stay over?"
"No" I said, starting to feel giggly inside.
"But there's one thing" I continued, "I only have one bed... I hope that's not a problem?"
"Not at all" he chuckled while looking me in the eyes, laughing away the apparently ridiculous insinuation.
We jumped on our bikes, and didn't stop talking until we reached the theatre. Entering, he offered his member card to get a discount at the box office, telling me that they never checked the photo that was on the card. I got the discount, as he foretold, and we sat down in the comfortable red seats of the theatre a few minutes later. Sicko started. Not the most romantical tale, I know, but to be honest, I didn't really care. For as long as I could watch together with the awesomely gorgeous guy next to me, they could even make me watch the most dreadful pictures ever created. F. slipped off his shoes, and put his cute red-socked feet on his seat so he could sit more comfortable. I smiled.
The movie itself was okay. Not that it really mattered. I was longing more for what was going to happen after the credits had rolled down the screen... What would the night bring? What revelations would surface? I pictured myself dozing of in bed.
So far for my reckless fantasy which I would never have the balls for to carry out in real life.
F. didn't stay in the city. He didn't rent a room, so he was forced to leave Leuven every day, and come back the following. Sometimes, when he didn't have a train back home, he crashed at someone's place. I was very aware that he wouldn't be able to make for the last train home, leaving him with only one solution: staying over for the night. Did I object? Let me answer that question with another question. Is the pope a woman?
For all it's worth, he didn't seem to care. During the week before the movie, he asked me if it was okay if he stayed over, to which I eagerly answered yes. Then he asked me if he needed to bring a sleeping bag, to which I said no, because I had one laying about in my room. One thing I didn't tell him, and I have to admit that I mischievously kept my mouth shut on purpose, was that I only had one bed. I don't know if he thought about it, but I did. And every time I thought about it, it pretty much ended like the dream scenario described above.
Around 21h30 PM I started to feel unsettled. He hadn't texted me anymore since noon, and a dark fear of him not showing up slowly crept inside my happy mind. The movie started at ten o'clock, and we still had to cycle down there. The fact that "casually late" was his second name had slipped my mind. Around 21h45 he rang my doorbell, and some sort of relief and happiness quickly filled me, as the fears I had scurried away.
Going up the stairs, he asked me: "So it's no problem that I stay over?"
"No" I said, starting to feel giggly inside.
"But there's one thing" I continued, "I only have one bed... I hope that's not a problem?"
"Not at all" he chuckled while looking me in the eyes, laughing away the apparently ridiculous insinuation.
We jumped on our bikes, and didn't stop talking until we reached the theatre. Entering, he offered his member card to get a discount at the box office, telling me that they never checked the photo that was on the card. I got the discount, as he foretold, and we sat down in the comfortable red seats of the theatre a few minutes later. Sicko started. Not the most romantical tale, I know, but to be honest, I didn't really care. For as long as I could watch together with the awesomely gorgeous guy next to me, they could even make me watch the most dreadful pictures ever created. F. slipped off his shoes, and put his cute red-socked feet on his seat so he could sit more comfortable. I smiled.
The movie itself was okay. Not that it really mattered. I was longing more for what was going to happen after the credits had rolled down the screen... What would the night bring? What revelations would surface? I pictured myself dozing of in bed.
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