LXV. The Guy With The Barong Tattoo

“Too much joy, I swear, is lost in our desperation to keep it.”

– Ocean VuongOn Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

One of my biggest turn-offs is a horrible texter. If I write you an eloquent narrative on how I want you to finger my hole and your response is only “lol,” it’s over between us. According to Buzzfeed, my love language is words of affirmation. And, for once, I can’t agree more with Buzzfeed. This might come as a surprise, but I am a firm believer in the power of wordsAnd before you say anything, I know that my word repertoire is limited to annoying phrases like “bitchhh” and “yasss queen!” But I find guys with an extensive vocabulary to be impossibly sexy. Like… if you can find a way to write a lengthy essay about your mundane breakfast, I will get an instant boner. To me, guys who have a way with their words are incredibly hot.

Unfortunately, it’s not a skill many guys have, and I blame toxic masculinity for that lack of literacy.

LXIV. The Guy Who Came Too Early (First Gay Crush Series: Part III)

“Sometimes you just jump and hope it’s not a cliff”

– Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

With enough luck, the universe might introduce you to a man with a beauty that surpasses age and time. He pleasantly surprises you as your conversations flow naturally, as if you have known this person forever. Your first date with him surpasses all of your expectations. He takes excellent care of people he cares about and turns heads around with his beautiful smile. He often catches you staring into his piercing blue eyes as you’re wondering how lucky you are to call a compassionate and intelligent man like him yours. The evening ends with cinematic kisses and passionate lovemaking. With your naked bodies entangled on a luxuriously cozy bed, you began wondering about the life the two of you could have shared. You would have grown old together in a quaint old cottage in the countryside of Spain, sitting on the balcony laughing about the countless wild nights you’ve shared. It’s a love story many people dream of having, a beautiful romance that will be told for generations to come.

Unfortunately, this chapter is NOT going to be one of those love stories.

Grindr in Indonesia

After moving back home to Indonesia and living here for a while now, I have experienced the ups and, mostly, downs of being an avid Grindr user. Before I continue, let me preface this by saying that people can use the social networking app however they want to. And on a few tremendously rare occasions, I had actually built genuine connections with kind and intellectually-stimulating men I met on this app. 

But oftentimes, shit goes bonkers on Grindr.

Some of the things I write below might apply universally to all dating apps worldwide, especially to those unfortunate souls out there who have to deal with men. The following piece is merely a collection of observations on the questionable behavior of Indonesian gays on Grindr. And if you’re offended by what I have to say, well… #SorryNotSorry.

A Broken Flashlight

The lies, the screams, the smokes in the air
The bathroom floor was once our sacred ground
Tainted by a naked man in a white towel
Empty promises armored you in the battleground
In a field of dying bluebonnets
All I could hear was a deafening sound
Of amassed anger and drying tears
I guess the wounded isn’t numb to a new wound

For you, I ruined myself
Soaked up all your madness under a filthy sheet
A pill a night, but your remains stay
We’re a tragedy that began on a leathered front seat
Jaded souls dreaming of a life in Carmel-by-the-sea
A silly dream shattered by drugs and deceits

I wished you never stayed sober
So your words would’ve hurt less
Why couldn’t I stay sober?
God knows I had things to confess

LXIV. The Seven Guys I Met In New York

“I’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.”

– Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

During a cold shower on a mediocre afternoon in lockdown, I was brave enough to dream of the post-pandemic world. I dreamed of living in a universe where the virus didn’t affect our lives anymore. I promised myself that when it happened, I needed to be courageous, unafraid to feel everything that the world threw my way. To embrace a warm touch, to ache from heartbreaks, and to dance the pain away — I wanted to experience them all. I promised myself to savor each moment as if everything I had in life would disappear after the sun rose. I promised myself to be authentic, to enjoy every moment the way I would have wanted to.

When that dream was suddenly about to come true, I was overwhelmed. I felt like a domesticated puppy living in a golden cage about to be thrown into a concrete jungle. I was not, physically and mentally, ready for New York.

My butthole certainly wasn’t ready.

LXIII. The Guy Whom I Played Beer Pong With

“I don’t know why my body is so intent on sabotaging my brain when my brain is perfectly capable of sabotaging itself”

– Alma Wheatley, The Queen’s Gambit

What makes sex awful for you?

I am personally a big fan of intimacy and passion. Many people love to talk shit about the missionary position and call anyone who loves it a boring-ass bitch, but I couldn’t care less about what other people think. If that’s what it takes to get myself some much-needed love and affection, I don’t mind being called a basic twink. What can I say… I’m a sucker for elaborate conversations under a weighted blanket with a semi-attractive gentleman who cares about my aspirations in life. But obviously, this is LA that we’re talking about, a city filled with self-centered people trying everything they can to claw their ways to stardom. Waiting to develop a deep emotional connection with someone in LA is like waiting for Rihanna to release new music in 2021.

That was why, most days, instead of dealing with another big dick with an intolerable personality, I preferred staying at home and viciously flicking my bean to some amateur porn.

LXII. The Guy Who Made Me Leave L.A. (The ParTy Series: Part IV)

“Maybe I’ll move away. Start somewhere new, I’ll let you have L.A.”

– Gryffin feat. Katie Pearlman –

I can’t pinpoint one exact reason why I wanted to leave Los Angeles. It’s a place where I began to discover the kaleidoscopic facets of my adulthood, my sexual desires, and, most importantly, love. I developed long-lasting relationships with some of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered and created fond memories that I still cherish to this day. I fell in love with the city almost instantly all corners of its vibrant streets were filled with an abundance of unceasing excitement. LA made me believe I was capable of anything; to be whoever I want to be, to be free. For a while, I had no desire to ever leave. Los Angeles will forever have a special place in my heart.

LXI. The Guy Who Put The Dog In Doggy Style

“Even annoyance was part of the pleasure we took in each other”

– Garth Greenwell, Cleanness

Dear the person responsible for giving out official names to all sex positions,

First of all, how did you come up with all these weird-ass names? For example, doggy style. What made you think it’s a good idea to draw inspiration from the way dogs reproduce? I did quick research before writing this chapter, and I learned there are way too many obscure sex positions out there. Like… The Wanton Wheelbarrow. What in the bloody hell is that?! And how does any sane human being find any enjoyment in this torturous position? I always seek for pleasure in sex, not trying to break a couple of bones.

Call me a boring bitch or whatever, but I’m perfectly content with the good ole’ missionary position. What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic after all.

LX. The Guy Who Blew Me By The Beach

“What? You don’t love me for my subtlety”

– Julia Quinn, Bridgerton

Let’s talk about public sex. Generally, being naked in public is fantastic — exposing your body in its most primally vulnerable state to our mother nature can be liberating as fuck. But don’t get me wrong… I’m not an exhibitionist (I’m not trying to kink shame any of you). Unless you’re Timothée Chalamet, I detest the idea of my flat ass being objectified by some creepy dudes. And don’t get me started with my overwhelming stage fright and riddling anxiety of having strangers judge my dick-riding prowess. That said, public sex could be a truly magical adventure that I wish all of you could experience one day. Let’s just say that the only thing stopping me from blowing a stranger’s dick at the beach is the fear of going to jail for public indecency.

Does anyone want to buy me a private island with a pristine white beach where I can have biweekly, obnoxiously loud sex on?

LIX. The Guy Whom I Had Sex With On The Apartment Balcony

“You got all the muscles and the features I want, and I want what I want, my love”

– Troye Sivan –

“What’s your type?”

The question got thrown around on dating apps as if one’s visual aesthetic is the sole factor in gauging your appeal. So my question is, what’s your view on physical attractiveness? Do you often find yourself falling for the same type of person over and over again? Do you limit your dating pool to a specific definition of beauty? I have encountered many people who exclusively date the same type of person. Heck, some even wear their preference as a badge of honor. Rice queen, size queen, daddy hunter, you name it.

The more important question is: as a person on the receiving end of the attraction, how would you react to it? Would you find the admiration flattering, or would you be offended that your existence is reduced to your melanin level?

(Didn’t I mention I was going to write about a rice queen in the previous chapter? Well… here it is!)