False Bravado

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.

You’re not alone.

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The Silence…

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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Are You Experienced?


“Who, after all, are the most anti-sex people and slut shamers aside from trad-con males? Feminists, and women who are fat and/or old.” –@redpilldadpua

The above quote (emphasis mine) and link are from Red Pill Dad Pua’s blog, you should check it out.

Let’s get to the heart of this post shall we?

Trad-Con males. Or guys in general that slut shame and are “anti-sex.” Why are they “anti-sex?” That’s the million dollar question for me. Were they abused as children? Probably not. It’s more likely they were brought up with certain religious views and religious convictions that make sex either dirty and forbidden, or that it is only something that should be between a man and a woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. And then it’s primarily for procreation only, heaven forbid you actually enjoy sex for the sake of sex. God forbid you bust out the floggers and rope or put your woman in a choke-hold. Can’t have any of that.

The “anti-sex” people are doing a dis-service to themselves if you ask me. How are you going to be good at sex if you don’t have sex? How are you going to know if a potential partner is good at sex if you haven’t had anything as a reference point to base it off of? How are you going to know if you are sexually compatible?

Here’s what I mean by that:

I’ve had a lot of sex over the years. According to a survey I found, the average number of partners that people have over a lifetime is 7. There’s other studies and whatnot out there that are basically saying the same thing, so for now, I’ll accept 7 as the average number of partners that both men, and women (I know, I know, hush) have over a lifetime. So according to this particular survey, not only have I had a lot of sex, I’ve also had a lot of partners too. I’m way past the magic number of 7. I still don’t know if I believe this number or not. It just seems so…small.

Anyways, in all of that sex, in all of my partners, I’ve learned a lot about what pleases women in bed in general, as well as what pleases me. I’ve got experience. I’ve got enough experience that when a woman shows up in my life and we become sexually active, I have a good idea based on her actions and behaviors to know that she has either had a lot of sex, but with only a handful of guys, or she’s had some sex with a lot of guys, or both. Or that she hasn’t had a lot of experience. It actually does show up in the bedroom. I wouldn’t be able to know this without having my experiences that I’ve had.

I’m not saying any of this to brag or to shame anyone, it is what it is. A woman shows up and can rock my world? She has experience, whether it’s a lot of sex or a lot of partners or both. Any of these scenarios is neither good or bad to me, it just is. She shows up and fumbles around a lot and then tells me she doesn’t normally do stuff like this? I’m more likely to believe her. But what if I didn’t have the experience? How would I know if she was being honest or not? I wouldn’t know because I have either no reference point or a very limited reference point to base her words and abilities on.

That’s what I mean by “anti-sex” people doing themselves a dis-service. They have either no reference point at all, or a very limited one to go off of.

My biggest gut-clenching “fear” is what I remember reading in Rollo Tomassi’s Saving The Best: “I got married to a whore, that fucks like a prude.”  Without any reference point to base things off of, without any experience “under your belt,” this could be you. Is having experience a guarantee that it won’t happen to you? Of course not. You could meet someone and she could still end up not giving you her best. At least with experience though, you have a better chance of finding that out, even if your sex with her is fairly basic and “vanilla.”

So if you are a guy and you are “holding out” for your “special unicorn,” you might be shooting yourself in the foot. I can understand your religious convictions if that is what is stopping you, and as I’ve said in the past, you do you. Be aware that a lack of experience especially when it comes to sex, may put you at a disadvantage with women, and not just in the ability to give her good, satisfying sex.

Another reason that I personally wouldn’t hold out is something I wrote about a while back: Ray. He was a co-worker of mine that died shortly after his 30th birthday, and he died a virgin. He’s a guy that never got to experience the pleasure of sex or the pleasure of a woman. He was holding out and waiting for his “One.” At least for me, if I die tomorrow I know what sex is like, what it’s cracked up to be, what it’s not cracked up to be, what is still a mystery to me there, and what isn’t. I’ve had the pleasure of women and I’m happy and excited for more. At least I’ve had that. For me I would hate knowing that I’m dying and I never got to experience that, even if it was only once.

This is why I don’t pass up sex too often. I love and want the experience. Each woman is different in her own way. Her body is a little different from the next woman. You learn nuance after awhile. You definitely learn what works for you and what doesn’t.

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