It All Ends

at the end of a day

For those of you that follow me on Twitter, you may be aware of what has been going on in my life recently. For those of you that don’t, I’ll give you a brief recap.

Starting in September, my girlfriend decided to go on a trip and see Europe for 3 months. During that time, my Mother became ill and eventually she died. Her date of death was September 17th.

There was some things going on in my relationship with my girlfriend at the time. I’m not going to go into the details for several reasons. The biggest reasons though are:

  1. It’s none of your business. I don’t mean to sound mean, but it’s really none of your business. I briefly touched on it on Twitter as well as on at least one of my Periscope podcasts. If you’re dying to know, you will probably find what you are looking for there.
  2. I’m not going to shit talk my girlfriend. We both could have done things differently. We both made mistakes and fucked up. We both are accountable. We both need to own our shit in that regard. She’s a good person. I have nothing against her for her part in things. I wish her well.

Needless to say, the girlfriend and I are no longer a couple. She moved out on this last Saturday, the 8th of December.

On Wednesday, the 5th of December, my car was stolen from my driveway. Don’t worry, it’s been recovered. The police found it on December 10th. It’s actually in pretty good shape too. I need to get it re-keyed and deal with the insurance company at this point to get some of the losses taken care of.

So that, in a nutshell, is what I’ve been dealing with for basically the last three months.

Some days I’m good, really good even. Some days, not so much. Waves of sadness wash over me at different points, at different times, on different days. Right now as I’m typing this a wave is washing over me.

I miss my now ex-girlfriend. I miss what we had. I miss what we shared. I miss the fact that our future together isn’t going to be what I had hoped for. I miss the potential future that never was.

I’ve accepted that we aren’t going to be together. I knew that this was not only a real possibility, but a probability.

I’m thankful that I met her when I did, and I’m thankful for the years that we had together. In all honesty, when I first met her, I didn’t think we had any real chance of going any distance other than maybe a couple of months at best. But almost 4 years later, there we were.

It is what it is. It’s done. If I had to do it all over again, knowing that it would still end the way it ended, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Why?

Because all relationships end.

You may go a few days, a few weeks, a few months, a few years, or even decades. You may be with someone for most of your life, even the rest of your life. Eventually it all comes to an end though.

In that sense, you could say that life is tragic. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl either to someone else, or she dies. Same for the women out there who happen to read this.

It’s an eventuality.

You can go your whole life avoiding this truth, all things end. Or you can accept it and embrace it. You can seize it and suck the marrow out of it. The choice is yours.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

When the waves wash over me, I tend to go to dark places.

Suicidal thoughts are no strangers to me.

Don’t worry though, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’m not going to do something stupid. I’m not going to bring a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Life is too short as it is.

For a lot of years, I’ve had my life on easy mode. I’ve taken the easy way out of things and avoided pain as much as possible. And when the pain of things seemed to almost be too much to bear, I would go to those dark places. It would be so easy to do it. It would be a way to make the pain stop. It’s not the right answer or the right way for me though. I realize that now.

I’m choosing to embrace this pain, as much as it hurts. I’m choosing not to avoid it this time. I’m living with it. I’m living in it too. It will pass with time. I’m choosing to do something with it.

When I’ve experienced pain similar to this in the past, not only would I go to dark places, but I would isolate myself from others. I can’t do that this time. That would probably be too much. It would also drag that pain out longer. I can’t do it. I can’t. I won’t.

So I did something that I don’t usually do.

I reached out.

I reached out to the Men on my Twitter feed. I reached out to anyone and everyone that has been watching my Periscopes.

I’m absolutely floored by the outreach that I’ve received. Men have showed up for me. Men have reached out to let me know that I’m not alone in all of this. Men have reached out in their own ways to let me know that they care about what is going on with me and that in one way or another, I matter to them.

I’m so grateful for them. I’m so indebted to them for this. I only hope that one day, in some way, I can pay them back for their kindness and their concern.

From talking to them on Twitter, from speaking with them on Periscope, from getting phone numbers and follow up texts, I am truly amazed and humbled. From e-mails like this one that I received today:

Hey Rob

You don’t know me. We’ll likely never meet. But in this new age of computers, reddit, youtube and blogs;  I stumbled across you quite a while back on a youtube video with Rollo Tomassi. I’m a little surprised to be writing this to be honest. But after reading pretty well all of your blogs and watching most of your videos I figured I’d drop you line. For what it worth coming from a complete stranger I just wanted to say I appreciate the time you put into your posts. Despite the bitter taste (at least for myself) of the redpill your articles are well thought out and written, I look forward to reading them. I’m sorry to hear about the passing of your mom, and the recent breakup with your girlfriend. In this day and age the prospects of keeping a relationship in the somewhat idealized state of kindness and respect is difficult, at least from my experiences.

Hope this message finds you well.

“Illegitimi Non Carborundum”

I’m speechless and I’m blown away.

Thank you.

Thank you Mike.

Thank you Vincent.

Thank you Chuck.

Thank you Quintus.

Thank you to all of the men, both the ones in name, and the ones that choose anonymity.

Thank you to all of you reading this. Thank you to those that I forgot to mention or that I don’t know your names. You are not forgotten. Your words to me are not forgotten. Your messages to me have not fallen on deaf ears. I hear you. I see you.

Thank you to all of you who reached out to me in my time of need and threw me a life line. I’m forever grateful and indebted to you. I have your back because you’ve had mine.

I’m not going anywhere Gentlemen. I have work to do. I’ve got things to say. I’ve got blogs to write. I’ve got videos to shoot. And I’ve got Men that I need to meet in real life.

2019 is going to be that year for all of it.

 

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The War is Over.

black vintage typewriter
We are like this old typewriter.  Somewhat still useful, but Obsolete.

Gentlemen, I’m going to say something and you’ll all probably have some sort of reaction to it. Hear me out before going off the deep end though.

We as Men are Obsolete.

The War on Feminism is Over. They already have won. They won a long time ago.

I’m not saying this because “nihilism.” I’m not saying it because “black pill.” I’m not saying it because “MGTOW.” I’m saying it because it’s the truth.

Feminism has been around before many of us, including yours truly, was even born.

We as Men are Obsolete.

Stop and think about it for a moment. Do women really and truly need us anymore? Not really. They’ve got sperm banks and cryo-freezing for their eggs. (Created and built by Men I might add.) We all know the “wage gap” is just a myth. Women can and do earn just as much as Men. They don’t need us for financial provisioning like in the days of yore. They can pretty much do whatever job it is that’s out there (don’t know about the quality of the work, but they can do it.)

They’ve got the State to take care of them and any children that they should happen to have or want.

When it comes to civil and political rights, they have their equality. They can vote in whomever they desire.

They don’t need us.

All of the talk that I see and hear on the interwebs about repealing the 19th… Yeah right. That will never happen in a million years. That cat is out of the bag and will never be put back in.

We cannot go back in time. Time travel doesn’t exist. Probably never will. We cannot go back to “the good ol’ days.” Put down the crack pipe please.

We most likely aren’t going to “save Christianity” from itself either. Feminism has infected it too. Like government from the local to the federal levels, it’s in all the denominations. I dare say that when it comes to any real “mainstream” publicly recognized religion, feminism has infected them all, or will, in due time. Even Islam.

There are no real “last bastions” left. The war is over.

If the idea of the Red Pill is about uncovering honest to god actual truths, then let’s be honest with ourselves. The war is over and has been for some time. Feminism has won.

That doesn’t mean fuck it all, give up, go MGTOW, or even “enjoy the decline.”

What am I talking about then?

Here’s what I’m talking about:

Stop treating Men and Women as adversaries. Stop treating it like a war. That’s what feminism wants.

Stop hoping that somehow, some way, we can “turn back the clock,” that we can somehow “turn it all around.” That’s like pissing into the wind.

What we can do though is acknowledge it, and go forward from there. It starts on the individual level. It starts with You.

It starts with a careful selecting of a woman who isn’t too infected by feminism. (Hint, they all are to one degree or another.) It starts with accepting a woman’s nature for what it is, and you won’t be able to change it. It starts with realizing that her nature is a part of her and that it is amoral. It starts with you realizing this, and you getting over the bitterness of this. It starts with you realizing that your assigning a moral or immoral definition to her behavior is a projection from you.

It starts with you stopping yourself from pandering to women in hopes of getting that Golden Pussy. (Hint, they all feel the same.)

It starts with you stopping yourself from giving attention to women in the hopes that somehow, some way, some day, they will see you for the greatness that you think you are, and then they will fall madly in love with you and then fuck you. (They won’t do either. Women will never love you in the way that you hope and want them to. That’s part of their nature as well.)

It starts with you stopping yourself from seeking a woman to save you from yourself. She isn’t your mother. She isn’t there to save you from yourself, only you can do that. No one else will.

Stop trying to recreate your mother in your relationships with women. It won’t end well.

It starts with you stopping yourself from seeking approval from a woman to do, well, anything. It’s your life, do what you will.

I’m not abdicating women from responsibility, but I’m not going to assign morality to what they do as a whole gender. Their behavior is what it is. It’s up to me when I’m dealing with them if I want to tolerate what it is that they are doing. You should do the same.

Being obsolete can be a good thing. If we are truly not needed, we can choose to do what we want with our lives. We don’t have to spend it in servitude to women or to the State if we don’t want to.

Cries of “Man Up!” lose their potency when you are obsolete.

Cries of “Sexist! Misogynist!” lose their power when you are obsolete.

It frees you up. It gives back choice to you, even though you never really lost it in the first place.

Go and enjoy the decline if that’s your thing. Bang a bunch of chicks and make a bunch of money. Go see the world.

Go and find one woman who will give you children if that’s your thing. Raise your children to be your tribe. Take from the Empire of Nothing when it needs to be done. Work within the system. Create your own civilization within a civilization.

Raise your family with whatever religion you choose if that’s what you want. Raise them the way You want to. Give them your values.

Say fuck it all and go your own way if that’s what you want. Go live out in the wilderness, or travel from city to city, country to country, seeing the sights. Do what you want.

Meet like minded Men and women in the Real World. If all of your sources of knowledge and companionship come from the online world, you could lose it all in the quickness of a  keystroke. These platforms that we use, they aren’t ours. We don’t own them. We just use them until we can’t or don’t. Meeting people in the real world, gaining knowledge from them, having experiences with them, learning from them and teaching them something as well, no one can take that from you.

Just make sure that whatever it is that you choose, that it’s your choice. Not somebody else’s.

I’ve got a choice to have children. It’s a relatively new choice for me. It’s something that I didn’t think was possible for many years and so I was okay with the idea that I wouldn’t have children. All of that has changed now, and I realize that I do want children. Not to “do my part and save Western Civilization.” Not to “raise a family to fight back against feminism.” But because I want to be a Father like my Father before me. I want a tribe of my own.

Religion got one thing right. We all need to believe in something greater than ourselves. For many, it’s the idea of God. Other’s it’s The Universe, Karma, Fate, so on and so forth.

For some it’s the State.

For some it’s Family. This is the one that I choose. Family is greater than me. My Family isn’t just my wife or partner, it isn’t just my future children. It isn’t just my parents and extended relatives. It isn’t just bound by blood. Those that I meet in real life are my family if we both agree that we fit together. I would like to add to my Family and so that is what I’m going to do.

So my question to all of you Men out there is this:

The War is Over. Feminism has won. You are Obsolete. Now what are you going to do? What are you going to do with yourselves? What do you choose? What do you want to do? There aren’t any right or wrong answers here. Whatever you choose, that’s yours.

 

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No Shortcuts

person using macbook pro on brown wooden desk

I’m going to cut to the chase today guys.

There’s no shortcuts to get what you want. You have to do the fucking work.

Anything else is just an excuse to not do the work.

You’re out of shape and fat? Your fault. Do the work. How did you get that way? By not doing the work. Getting out of shape and being fat wasn’t an overnight phenomenon. You didn’t wake up yesterday or today and you were suddenly fat. No. You spent years getting there.

It’s going to take some fucking time to get your ass into shape. Do the work. As Rich Cooper would say, “Pick up heavy shit and put it down.” It’s that simple. But it may not be easy. Most of your life, you have had it on easy mode. That’s why you are fat and out of shape. That’s why you don’t have someone in your life to have sex with. That’s why you aren’t making the money you want. That’s why you don’t have the career, job, what-have-you that you want. Do the fucking work.

I saw a friend over the weekend, last time I saw her was at my Mom’s funeral. Before that, I don’t remember. It’s been at least a couple of years.

She’s a good person, don’t get me wrong, but man can she sing a tale of woe. She’s been singing it for over 20 fucking years.

I first met her back in high school, that’s how long I’ve known her. Most of my life now that I think about it. When she was younger, she had long blonde hair and she was petite with an ass that just went “pow!”

I miss the old her. She was hot. She was good looking. She had energy. Now days? Not so much.

She’s probably put on at least 50 pounds since back in the day. The Wall has not been too kind to her.

And she still keeps on singing that same old tired fucking song:

“I’m too tired to work out.”

“I need to go to the gym, but I don’t have enough time in my day.”

“I’m sick. I don’t feel good. I’ll go another time.”

Same old song and dance that she’s been singing and dancing to for over 20 years.

Her life is her fault. She doesn’t want to do the work. She wants to keep it on easy mode. She wants credit, but doesn’t want to actually earn it.

So she’s fat and has a bunch of health issues going on. And she’s 47 years old.

Bitch, you have the same amount of time in the day as everybody else. 24 hours.

How you spend it, how you use it, is up to you.

Do the work.

There are no shortcuts.

On another note, I’m getting ready to go to Portugal. I’m going to fly across the pond and see the sights. I’m looking forward to it.

I’m sure I’ll have things to talk about when I get back. Until then:

Do the fucking work.

 

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