Jeremy

January 27, 2020January 27, 2020 Rob Says6 Comments

“Jeremy” is a guy I work with. He hired on approximately six months ago or so. He’s in his mid-to-late 30’s or maybe even his early 40’s. I’m not sure exactly as I don’t remember, but I do know that he told me his age at one point. He’s got receding hair, wears glasses, and when he’s not in the company uniform, he dresses pretty much like the next guy. He’s got quite the beer gut on him, and for the most part, he’s pretty forgettable. Basically he’s a textbook definition of an average frustrated chump.

“Jeremy” and I had a talk a while ago while on route. This was shortly after he had hired on. Plot synopsis: He moved here from wherever it was that he had lived previously. While he was living where ever it was that he lived, he had been seeing a gal that’s around his age, maybe even a couple years older than him. She’s got two kids from a prior relationship, a teenage daughter and a son that’s around 10 or so.

Their relationship was volatile and they were on again/off again. During one of their off again stages, she decided to move on and smoke another man’s pole. It just so happened to be “Jeremy’s” brother’s pole. Jeremy found this out from both his brother and from her when they tried to be “on again.”

Jeremy ended up moving to Utah and left the woman behind. He got himself a small apartment and got himself a job. Now if the story ended here, it wouldn’t be such a tragic comedy. But it doesn’t end there. Not by a long shot.

Almost a year later, ex-woman and Jeremy are still talking. Ex-woman decides to move out to Utah. Jeremy decides to “take her back.” Problem is, his one bedroom apartment isn’t big enough. Not enough for her, him, and her two kids. So Jeremy and woman get a joint lease and get a larger, more expensive place.

They move in together and everything is happily-ever-after. Right? No. It’s not.

Jeremy is sleeping on the couch. All of his stuff, other than his clothes, is still in boxes. The teenage daughter has the second bedroom while Mom/woman has the master bedroom. I can’t remember where the boy is sleeping, but it’s somewhere in this apartment. And Jeremy is paying for the privilege of sleeping on the couch. Half the rent to be exact. Half or more of the utilities too. If memory serves me correctly, he’s buying most of the groceries too. That’s how he ended up working at my job. More pay to finance someone else’s lifestyle. I don’t even want to guess how often these two have sex.

Jeremy has talked about leaving. He’s waiting for the lease to be up. Which happened as of January 1st of this year. He’s still there as of this writing. All of this backstory, everything that I’m writing about up until now, was told to me several months ago. Why didn’t he just leave her months ago? “Because I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to leave her hanging.” Fuck it, I would have taken the credit hit, after finding another place of my own and gotten my shit out of there. Everything is still in boxes, so it would be easy as hell to move. Block her number and/or change my phone number to boot. That’s if I would have gotten myself into this particular mess to begin with.

Jeremy is a “promise keeper.” Rollo has talked about it in at least one article of his own. I’m not going to go into that particular definition except to say that Jeremy is white knighting a woman who is fucking him over because he allows it. He also has the whole “relational equity” thing going on as well.

A couple of days ago, Jeremy came to work in a bad mood. He gave me some story that wasn’t the story, it was an analogy. I just remember something along the lines of, “Why can’t people just accept me for who I am? Why do I have to change?” So Jeremy has some covert contracts going on too. He wants credit for his burden of performance. He wants her to love him the way he loves her. He has certain expectations of her that he hasn’t told her, and since she isn’t doing any of it, he’s pissed and bitter about it. Mostly bitter.

This whole thing is a nightmare in the works. It’s a nightmare of his own creation.

Do I feel sorry for him? Not really. He could leave at any time. He chooses to remain for some misguided idealism in his head that he created for himself.

What’s the point of this post besides showing how fucked up a man’s life can get?

Know what you want.

Jeremy has no clue what he wants. He knows what he doesn’t want, but not what he wants. I know this because I asked him directly. I got the “deer in the headlights” look.

Guys, you can cruise on autopilot for your whole life. God knows, I did it for a long time. You can just “go with the flow” and see where it takes you. Don’t be surprised when it takes you to places you didn’t want to go. Have an idea of where you want to be and where you want to end up, otherwise you’re going to end up at someone else’s destination like Jeremy did. At some point he’s going to have to take charge of his life, own up to his shit, and decide exactly what he wants to do. Until then he’ll keep paying for the privilege of minimal to no sex and sleeping on the couch. He’s not her boyfriend. He’s her employee.

Does Jeremy get to burn? You better believe it.

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Burnout.

January 22, 2020January 21, 2020 Rob Says2 Comments

man reading burning newspaper — Every Time I Open Twitter.

The longer I stay on Twitter, the more I scroll, the more outrage I see. More and more, there is a “gender war.” Lately it’s coming from “our side.” It’s almost as bad as feminists when they go off about men.

If you haven’t noticed, especially here on my blog, I’m trying to steer clear of all of that. If you follow everything going on in the ‘Sphere and take it as gospel, then there’s no point in getting involved with women, because all they are going to do is cheat on you, take half or more of your assets, and “branch swing” on over to Chad Thundercock.

If you listen to a lot of the voices in the ‘Sphere, there’s a huge amount of women that are BPD, they are all gold-diggers, they will get knocked up by Chad and then try and pass that offspring off as yours.

And of course, every single one of these things will be your fault. Because you didn’t do the work, you didn’t lift, you didn’t eat meat, you didn’t wake up at 4 am and drink a pot of black coffee while taking a cold shower, and god forbid, you asked her a question and wanted her input about food or something; you just lost your frame. Since you don’t drive anything better than a lambo, you might as well fucking forget it.

It’s turning into fucked up guys screaming that you are a fucked up guy.

Sure the family court system is rigged against you. Sure, she could go feral, divorce rape you, take half your shit, and take your kids from you, leaving you to be nothing more than an ATM for her shopping trips. I know it happens.

Just because she could, doesn’t necessarily mean she will though. For every horrific divorce or break up that you hear about, you never hear about the divorces or break up’s where both parties parted amicably. You hardly hear about the relationships that are working out just fine, and no, these ain’t your gram’s and gramp’s relationships that have been going strong since the Stone Age. I’m talking about the 4 year relationships or the 9 year relationships. Relationships that have started during the rise of the internet or even after it.

Why is that? Because that shit doesn’t sell. That shit doesn’t get views or clicks.

“Hey Terry, how’s that relationship with Barbara working out?”

“Great Fred! We’ve been going strong now for about 6 years.”

“Well that’s just great Terry! Talk to you later.”

If guys approached each other in real life like they do online, it would look like inmates from the insane asylum had broken out.

“Billy! You know that girl you are seeing is a single mom right? She fucked up and got knocked up by Chad Thundercock and had his kid! She probably is looking for you to be her Beta Bucks! Be careful though man, those single mom’s will cheat on you with Chad’s brother Chet, and she’ll probably get knocked up by him and try to pass that bastard offspring off as yours!”

I thought the Red Pill was about understanding women’s natures, realizing that they are different than us. Different and complimentary. Not this hate shit I’m seeing all over the place.

When I filed for divorce from my ex-wife back in 2015, she could have fought me and been a bitter bitch about it. Guess what? She didn’t. She signed the papers and let me get on with my life.

When my ex-girlfriend decided she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, she could have cleaned my house out and disappeared into the night. Guess what? She didn’t. We parted on good terms.

When either I or several of the women that I’ve been seeing over this last year realized that things weren’t working out the way that we wanted, guess what? We ended things like adults. No harm, no foul, no hard feelings. It just didn’t work is all. No drama, no threats, no bullshit. Either I called it quits or they did, but it was no big deal.

Same with many of the guys that I talk to and deal with on a regular basis in the real world. When their relationships ended for whatever reason, both parties took it on the chin and left like adults. It was so common and so un-spectacular, it was actually kind of boring.

But that’s not the majority of the talk in the ‘Sphere these days. These days it’s about the outliers becoming the average; becoming the norm. Not every woman you meet is going to be BPD. Not every woman you meet is going to be damaged goods just waiting for a paycheck, your paycheck. Not every woman has a 1000 Cock Stare. Not every woman is a complete irresponsible idiot.

It seems that with each passing day the ‘Sphere is becoming more and more polarized. It’s becoming more and more “Us vs Them.” Just like feminism. Only now it’s guys sulking and pouting and throwing their own temper tantrums and taking their ball and going home because “the game is rigged.”

I understand when a guy gets blown out of the water by a woman and his whole life gets turned upside down. I’ve been there. The hurt and the anger are real, and up to a point, they are justified. At some point you have to let that shit go and get on with your life though. Be angry for a minute for sure, but then move past it. Your hurt and anger are only a crossroads, not a final destination.

This is why I don’t get caught up in the outrage anymore, from either side. It’s not productive, at least for me. I’ve heard all the bullshit a hundred times over. Same shit, different guy. It doesn’t work for me anymore. I don’t care.

In a lot of ways, getting on to social media is no better or no different from watching the MSM. All gloom and doom. All blood and gore. All high drama and outrage. It’s all bullshit.

I saw a meme recently that said, “We used to use the internet as a way to escape the real world, now we are using the real world to escape the internet.” Something like that. It’s true though. I get on social media and see the latest outrage and then I go outside and see that there still is no spoon. Hell, I’m open-minded enough. I go looking for this outrage on the streets and wherever it is that people congregate, and I’m still not seeing it, no matter how hard I try.

Guys, stopping drinking the Kool-Aid and get off the internet for awhile, and get out of your homes for a few hours. Clear the shit from your heads.

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The Silence…

January 20, 2020January 14, 2020 Rob SaysLeave a comment

silhouette of man at sunset — Silence Is Hell.

[Edit: I wrote this a while back when I was going through a real rough patch. Things are much better now. -Rob]

The Silence is…Deafening.

The Silence is…Distracting.

The Silence is…Unbearable.

Not going to lie, it’s been a rough few weeks since my relationship ended. The worst part of it is the nights.

Like that cornball saying from Game of Thrones: Winter is Here. It gets dark early, the house is quiet, too quiet. I go to bed early because why not? Only to not fall asleep and stare at the ceiling.

The ringing in my ears from the silence is distracting almost to the point of madness. So a video comes on. Or a movie. Or music. Anything to shut out the sound of silence.

As I write this, the click of the keyboard on my bed is soothing. It dulls the silence. It is background noise of a sort.

I’m trying to remember what it was like to be able to sit in silence or lie down in silence and be comforted by it. To be good with the silence. I’ll get there. Eventually. I know this. It’s just not right now.

Right now silence is too silent. It’s a distraction. It’s an obstacle. It’s an adversary to me. It’s not my friend at the moment.

Too much silence at this moment in my life.

It’s kind of funny, I wake up in silence. I go to work in silence. I can’t stand listening to the radio in the morning during my commute. Too many commercials and shit music. Too much mindless babbling from the radio “personalities.”

I talk with my co-workers briefly before going out on route. I drive around in silence. I exchange brief, cordial pleasantries with the customers when I service them. Rinse and repeat.

I get back to the shop when the work is done, talk briefly. Get back into my car for the commute home in silence. I get home to a silent house. I go to the gym and listen to music while I’m there. I don’t talk to anyone for the most part because I’m there to work out, as are they.

I go back home, fix dinner in silence, and then I’ll get on Twitter or Periscope for a bit. My voice breaks the silence for however long I’m doing the social media thing.

I go to bed in silence and not fall asleep because of the silence.

And the whole process tends to repeat itself. At least for right now.

The Silence is…Hell.

I can see the “light at the end of the tunnel,” so to speak. But it feels like it’s a million miles away.

I’m tired of the silence already.

I’m tired.

I’m rambling via a keyboard so that the click of the keys breaks the silence.

I’m typing to keep on keeping on.

I’ve got this. Some way, somehow, I’ve got this.

I just found this in my drafts recently and debated on sharing it or not. I originally wrote this post back in March of 2019. It’s interesting finding this post and reading it, seeing where I was at and comparing it to now.

The silence is still there from time to time, but it’s rare now. I still have an occasional sleepless night, but those too, are rare.

Winter is Here, yet again, just like last year. Only this year is better, much better. All those feelings I felt a year ago, they were just feelings, and they passed with the passage of time. I went from being alone in a silent house to having multiple people show up and share time with me. If I had done the unthinkable, if I had contemplated the thing that cannot be undone, I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t know the things that I know now. I wouldn’t have had all the experiences that I have had now.

I wouldn’t have the friendships that I have now. I wouldn’t have the sex and the relationships that I have now. I wouldn’t have told the stories that I’ve told and I wouldn’t have been able to listen to the stories that were told to me. I wouldn’t have seen the things I’ve seen, or visited the people and the places that I’ve visited.

A whole lifetime of stories and experiences had, and in less than a year from when I first wrote this particular post. Damn, what a wonderful world I inhabit and live in. And to think, the silence was starting to do me in. I didn’t let it, and here I am.

Don’t let it do you in either.

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