Keeping your frame, being “alpha,” being stoic, focusing on your mission while crushing it, spin more plates, have more options, being hard to kill, and other assorted buzzwords, slogans, and jingles are great.
They are great until your world comes crashing down around you. They are great when everything is fine. What they aren’t, is great when you are falling apart.
I have had a guy reach out to me recently and his world is crumbling right before his eyes. He lost his job recently as well as a relationship that he didn’t want to end.
I imagine he is staring right into the abyss. I could hear it in the tone of his voice because I’ve had that same tone of voice a couple of years ago when my LTR of almost 4 years ended and my Mother died two weeks apart from each other. It definitely knocked the wind out of me. That’s pretty much what this guy is going through right now.
What isn’t going to help this guy is to tell him to “man up, alpha up, be stoic, spin more plates, focus on your mission,” yadda yadda yadda. This isn’t a time for cheap slogans and manosphere jingles, it’s time to shut the fuck up and just listen.
I don’t care how much Game you know or how tight your Game is. Game and the Red Pill itself aren’t safety nets from a crushing blow to your life. You can have the greatest Game on the planet and your woman or women may still leave you for whatever reason. Game and the Red Pill won’t stop you from getting hurt, getting burned, or getting your heart ripped out of your chest.
You can do everything right that your guru told you to do, or your parent’s told you to do, or society told you to do, or even what you told yourself to do and it can still all be taken from you in the blink of an eye. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
You can have a ton of cash in the bank, in bitcoin, stuffed in a mattress for all I care. It’ll all be gone if and when you get into a serious car accident and you end up in the ICU at your local hospital.
Sometimes life just fucking sucks and there’s no answer as to why that is. Sometimes it just sucks. Sometimes you get to take a big bite out of the shit sandwich that has been served to you and there’s no avoiding it, changing it, getting around it, or getting out of it. Chew slowly motherfucker, chew slowly.
Sometimes the only thing you can do is just be present for somebody, let them talk, and just listen. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get someone from stepping off of a ledge. Sometimes you get to be the sounding board while they are processing how and why their world is falling apart at the seams.
Sometimes all you can do is tell them, no matter what they are going through, they are not alone. And sometimes that’s all it takes to stop them from making matters worse for themselves.
For all the bullshit slogans and chest puffing that goes on in the ‘Sphere, there’s not a lot of empathy going on there. Too many guys are beating their chests to the sound of their own drums about how big of an island unto themselves that they are. Guess what guys? Just like men and women are better together than they are apart, so are men themselves.
We as men are better together than we are apart. We aren’t islands unto ourselves as much as we want to pretend that we are. “Lone wolves” perish faster than a pack. Keep that in mind the next time you want to throw a slogan around.
If you haven’t had your heart broken by a woman, you haven’t really lived. If you haven’t had your heart broken, you will if you dare to connect and care for someone other than yourself. If you can just, “go out and get another woman,” and walk away from what you had with the last woman, especially if she is the one initiating the walk, did you really care for her or about her? Or are you worried about your frame and if you talk about it, it’ll show the world just how “beta” you are?
I think a lot of guys put on a show of how “alpha” they are because deep down inside they are hurting, literally bleeding from the inside, but they are either too scared or too ashamed to show it. They are too ashamed to show their humanity and reach out for help because they will be judged by their peers as being weak and “beta.”
I’m not saying that it’s a great idea to emote and expose your world falling apart to everyone on the internet, but reaching out to someone and telling them you are in pain isn’t weakness. Sometimes that’s the strongest and bravest thing that you can do.
“I’m hurting man, and I don’t know what to do. My world is fucked, and I don’t know how to dig myself out of this hole that I dug for myself.”
I hear you. I can’t dig you out of the hole that you dug for yourself, you’re the only one that can do that, but I can listen. Pick up the phone and call me anytime.
I don’t hate the guy. I don’t even know the guy. But I do know stupidity when I see it and what he did was stupid. Bare minimum, you don’t go around posting and bragging about what has been considered a criminal act, online. That was stupid. If you choose to continue “following” him and taking his advice about anything at this point, all I can say is, you get what you deserve and you get to burn. He’s a broken clock that happens to be right twice a day. It’s too bad that stupid isn’t painful, because maybe more people would learn what they need to learn and learn it much quicker if it was.
Both “sides” have worshiped their idols, and here we are. One idol is out of office and probably on his way to sunny Florida for drinks and golf, while his worshipers are being rounded up and arrested for civil disobedience. The other side is doing what is in their best interests, not their worshipers. I’m sure the shock to the system is still being felt. I’m sure that there is going to be more to come in the upcoming days, weeks, months, and years.
You get what you deserve and you reap what you sow.
When are we going to learn that we can’t seek salvation from the outside? Your “god emperor” didn’t save you. The One True God, the State, isn’t going to save you. The “guy in the sky” isn’t going to save you. Your salvation isn’t outside of you. It’s you, only you, and has only ever been you. You are the only one that can save yourself. No one else can or will.
I’m sure that I’m just screaming into the Void on this one, but at least I have gotten it out of my system. I know that for me I’m going to be paying close attention to those that are screaming the loudest from their soap boxes about whatever new idol they have uncovered, and then I’m going to act accordingly. You aren’t my savior and neither is your precious idol, who or whatever it may be.
Welcome to 2021 and bring on your idols. I look forward to setting them on fire and watching them burn before your very eyes.
Now if you don’t mind me, I need to go. I have a cat that is puking up a hairball and I need to deal with it.
Something I’ve seen recently is guys talking about “getting your IG (Instagram) on point.” I want to address that for a moment and then get on to what is really going on underneath it.
Okay, so if I’m going to “maximize my prospects with the ladies,” I need to sign up for IG and “get it on point.” Because IG is the future and the way of meeting women and blah blah blah.
Right. So when I take on any endeavor, whether sex-related or otherwise, I look at the ROI (Return On Investment.) Basically, for the amount of time, money, energy, and effort, what can I reasonably expect in return? I’m all about investing as little as possible and getting as much from “it” (whatever it is) as possible.
So with IG, in order to compete with Chad and all of the other “World’s Most Interesting Men,” I need to get great photos of myself for starts. That means hiring a good photographer. I don’t know where you live, but where I live, a good photographer is going to run you $100 USD per hour minimum. That may or may not include post production editing of the photos that were taken. Also, a good photographer around here is booked out solid for at least three months, and yes, this is during the pandemic.
Then I have to either pay someone or scout out interesting locations to do the actual shoots. You can’t just have studio head shots. Anyone can do those. So I need to drive around and go to “exotic” locations. Which means I’m hiking around to find the perfect location to get the perfect shots to convey that I’m a man of interest and intrigue.
Then there’s the time of day to do the shoot. There’s really only two times of the day to do it for maximum results. That’s right at dawn and right at dusk. High noon shoots on a sunny day are horrible. You get weird shadows that are hard to remove in post production, you look old and washed out, and the photos look “flat.”
Did I tell you that I do photography? I do. All of my shots that brought out certain emotions and just “popped” were either done in a studio, or they were shot on location, either right at dawn, before the sun fully came up, or right at dusk, right as the sun was going down, but just before it disappeared from the horizon. That means you have about 20 minutes, tops, to get your shots. You better have already scouted out your location and you better pray that the weather is cooperating with you.
So now you’ve found your location, the weather gods are smiling on you, and you paid to have your photographer drag their gear up the mountain right? Oh that’s right, most photographers that are good are going to charge you “travel expenses” if you are shooting anywhere other than their studio. Now you have to be on top of the mountain, in the dark, because you’re shooting before dawn right? Or you get to hike down the mountain in the dark because you shot at dusk.
And you get to repeat this whole process over and over because you want to be seen as the man of adventure. Gotta have different locations to show the women right? Different times of day. Gotta drag your animal if you have one along too. Same with your bros because you want to be seen as a sociable guy right? Oh wait, you don’t have bros. Never mind that one.
So now I’ve spent a few hundred dollars on photos of me doing strange and interesting poses in exotic locations. I’ve had to scout out the locations or pay someone else to do that for me. I may or may not have to pay for post production on the photos, or I can always edit them myself, since I know how, but that also takes time. Also there’s gas for my bike or my car plus wear and tear on said vehicles. There’s also sitting around in traffic in order to get out of the city. Oh and if you’re into shooting photos in a nightclub or a bar? Good luck. Most of those places prohibit photography, especially if your dragging your photographer around. There’s also getting written permission from anyone that is in the shots if the establishment allows you to shoot photos. You don’t want to get sued because Chad was fucking some guys wife and you happened to get him and her in your shot while at the club. You know, privacy and whatnot.
If you’re not doing all of this, then you are probably half-assing it and you’re going to get half-assed results at best. Most likely what you will have is a mediocre IG account that gets swallowed up by all the other IG accounts that are already out there, plus the new ones that go live every day. Lots competition if you ask me.
All this expenditure of time, money, and energy with no guarantees that it’s going to get you laid.
Sounds like a poor ROI to me. All of this work and hustle when you could be out talking to women.
Lots of guys complicating their sex lives because of the one underlying thing that they don’t want to say and to admit to:
“I am afraid.”
It’s okay guys, I’ve been there too. Once upon a time, I was afraid of approaching women. Sometimes I still am. I was afraid of rejection because if one woman rejected me, then that must mean all women would reject me, and everybody was watching, and my bros would raise their eyebrows and say, “Dude…Really? That girl? Are you serious?” and there was a huge spotlight on me, and everybody would point and laugh at me and Chad would come along and just steal the girl away, anyways, so I might as well either give up because chasing skirt just isn’t worth it, or I need some schtick like IG so that I don’t have to approach women, but I’m hustling and I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. I’m being busy for the sake of being busy instead of just admitting to myself:
“I am afraid.”
IG, dating apps, dating websites, match making services, and even texting to some degree are just crutches and buffers. They shield you from rejection. Being able to walk up to a woman and letting your intentions be known, and also being willing to be rejected is a tall order. It’s scary. I still get approach anxiety. I still hesitate and freeze up. I still blow it and get rejected. I get rejected way more than I succeed. I still keep going though.
Even when I didn’t know what “Game” was, the ‘Sphere didn’t even exist, and most information wasn’t easily available online, if at all, I still had to do it the hard way and walk up to a woman and talk to her. And I was afraid. I still succeeded though. Not as much as I would have liked, but more than I thought I would have.
You don’t “need” IG. None of the women I have dated, had relationships with, or had one night stands with had it or if they had it, they only used it for looking at inspirational quotes or plates and bowls of food. They spent more time on Facebook or Pinterest than they did on IG. Hell, most of them play games like Candy Crush instead of worrying about “likes” on social media.
I have not met one woman off of IG. Not one. I’ve met plenty from MySpace (back in the day) Facebook, various dating apps and sites, and of course, when I’m out and about doing stuff in real life. What’s the ROI? For me, I want to meet women with a minimum of ease, spend as little time and money as possible, and ideally I want them to come to me, show up at my house, fuck my brains out, and then leave. If we get along and the sex was really good, I’m always open for seconds, thirds, and so on. I don’t need IG for that. I just need a half decent photo of myself, if I’m going to do online dating, which means upper two-thirds of my body with my face fully visible, some corny intro line, and a little of my humor in the body of the profile. Or I just need to “sack up” and talk to her.
Humor is a strength of mine and it always has been, so that’s my “super power.” I’ve even told women that I’ll laugh them right out of their panties and right into my bedroom, and you know what? It worked.
Play to your strengths. Determine what is your best ROI. Maybe you live somewhere where IG is the new calling card. Fine, so be it. Maybe your looks are your strength, good deal. Maximize that then. I imagine though that if you are like most guys, you are average in looks. You are a “5” and you ain’t shit and that’s okay. Do you really want to spend a bunch of time and money spinning your wheels, pretending that you are doing the work, ultimately getting little to nothing in return?
Or do you want to be honest with yourself and admit:
“I am afraid.”
And then take a chance and risk rejection by talking to that woman that you see and find attractive?
When I look back at the absolute worst rejection I ever had, do you know what it was?
It was a woman looking me dead in the eye and saying, “Fuck off.”
That’s it.
I have never been slapped, punched, beat up, arrested, metoo’d, shot, stabbed, had a drink thrown in my face, or been thrown out of a bar for it. I’ve been thrown out of bars for other things that had nothing to do with talking to women, but that’s a story for another time. I’ve never been run out of town for being rejected, I’ve never had a mob chasing me with torches and pitchforks. I didn’t die when I got rejected.
Newsflash: You won’t die either.
Nobody pointed and laughed at me, nobody gave a shit. Life went on and believe it or not, that one rejection didn’t apply to other women, let alone all women. One woman turned down my offer, another one enthusiastically accepted my offer. Go figure.
I don’t think about my rejections because there are so many. I don’t dwell on them because at least I knew. I knew that nothing was going to happen with that one particular woman in front of me, so I could move on from it to the next woman. And that was the worst thing that could happen: Nothing happened.
The only thing I regret is the one’s that I didn’t talk to because:
“I was afraid.”
I don’t dwell on those regrets, but sometimes they pop up and once in a blue moon, they will wake me from a dead sleep. “What might have happened? What if I had approached her?” “What could have been?”
Rob Says 
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