Tag: manosphere

Villain

Rob Says15 Comments
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Yup, it’s me.

I’ve said it before in a few different broadcasts on YouTube, I’ve even mentioned it in other posts. I’ve even made it part of my bio on Twitter.

You’re going to be the Villain in somebody’s story. Get used to it.

For most of my life, I’ve tried to avoid this fact. I’ve done things and acted in certain ways all in order to avoid being the villain in somebody’s story. I wanted to be the “good guy.” I wanted to be the “hero.” And even in some cases, I wanted to be the “savior.”

I’ve had to realize and accept the fact that I’m going to be the villain in somebody’s story, at least for a period of time, and that’s okay.

Guys, anytime you do something for you, you run the risk of pissing somebody off. You run the risk of offending them. You run the risk of them getting angry with you. It’s unavoidable. Sure, you can go most of your life without rocking the boat, or making waves, but you’ll end up living a life that isn’t your own. It’ll be somebody else’s life that they wanted or that they envisioned for you. And I promise you, it will be a miserable life if you choose it. That life leads to all sorts of problems for you down the road. I think that’s how many people end up as alcoholics and addicted to different drugs. Gotta medicate that pain away because you aren’t living the way that you really want to.

I think that’s how many people end up in a “mid-life crisis.” You do what’s expected of you for so long until you can’t stand it anymore, and then you “go off the deep end” and end up doing the things you always wanted to do anyways.

One of the ultimate things that living a life that isn’t yours, is that you don’t know who you are, or you do, but you think you can’t do anything about it. And it tears and eats at you on a daily basis. I call this “punching yourself in the face.” I did it for most of the duration of my marriage, punched myself in the face. I did what I thought was expected of me and ended up numb for the most part, and miserable at the end. I knew I wanted more, but I didn’t want to be the villain. So I had a choice, become the villain or take my own life. You can see the choice I made.

I think the refusal to be the villain can lead to suicide too.

Being the villain isn’t the same thing as being evil. Being the villain just means you live your life on your own terms, no matter how much you rock the boat, no matter how much you disappoint people, and no matter how much they get pissed off at you. As far as I’m concerned, if you are pissing people off, you’re doing it right. That’s a good barometer.

When I was a child, I would watch all sorts of TV shows and movies, and I would find myself rooting for the villain. The villain to me was far more interesting and dynamic than the hero. There usually was some sort of backstory where you got to see where the villain came from, and where they were going. Sometimes they were redeemed, other times not so much. The villain always had some sort of mission, whether it was world domination, absolute power, or even seduction. Whatever it was, the villain was more “real” to me, more fleshed out for the most part. I had more investment and interest in the villain than I ever did for the hero.

Which leads me to this thought:

It’s your life. You are the main character in it. It’s your show, your rules. You can be the hero in your own story, and why shouldn’t you be? But you’re going to be the villain in somebody else’s story and you need to accept that and get used to it. If you’re going to be the villain, why not be the best villain you can be? Own that shit. I do.

I’m not advocating criminality here, or anything illegal. That’s on you if you decide to go that route. Responsibility to the responsible. But if you are going to be the villain, you might as well own it and be the best villain you can be. Relish it, cherish it. Thank whoever made you the villain. After all, without a villain, you don’t have much of a story. At least not one that is worth telling and savoring.

A parting thought:

What is our fascination with villains? Jesse James. Darth Vader. The Joker. It seems that western culture throughout the years has celebrated the villain, even if secretly. So why not be willing to be the villain? Why not own it when it happens? Why not be good with it? Chicks dig “bad boys” and assholes right? And what are they really? They are the villain in somebody’s story. Maybe it’s an ex-girlfriend’s or an ex-wife’s story. Maybe it’s someone in your own story. If there are a great many people out there who celebrate the villain in one way or another, why not be the villain so that they can celebrate you too?

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Say Hello To The Night…

Rob Says1 Comment

lost-boys

Lost in the Shadows. Lost Boys. It ain’t just a movie anymore.

Decent vampire flick from back in the day, but I’m not talking about vampires. I’m talking about Men today, young and old alike, that are lost. So many lost men. Going down one maze after another, chasing both real and imaginary carrots to become, what? Anything? “A Real Man?”

You’ve sat at the knee of every woman of importance, and some that are not, for most if not all, of your lives. Asking, begging, demanding them to tell you what to do. How to be a Man. How to get the girls. How to be successful. How to have a quality life. How to be happy. How to… And the list goes on. And the women don’t know. And they sometimes, unintentionally for the most part, lie to you.

All the popular media, movies, music, and television shows, they lie to you as well. School lies to you and indoctrinates you. And most of the Men who you think knows something, well they are either absent, or they are just as lost and confused as you. Your religion lied to you somewhere too.

And one day, you got on the internet and started searching, looking for answers. You found some dudes on a social media platform like Twitter who seemed to know what the fuck was going on, so you started following them and doing what they told you. Same with the women, you started following them as well and doing what they told you to do too. The glossy photos, the well written pieces, you swallowed it all. Just like the kool-aid that the mainstream media sold you. And then the discrepancies started showing up. You found out people weren’t who they said they were. What they said and what they did didn’t match up. Do as I say, not as I do. Maybe they are just in it for a quick buck. Maybe they want something else from you, another agenda of theirs.

All you wanted was to know what to do, how to be.

I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you.

“What is the meaning of life? What do I do?” To do whatever you want. You get to decide. It’s up to you, because nobody gives a shit. That’s the good news.

“How do I do that?” You have to burn first. You have to fuck up and fall down, because nobody gives a shit. You have to trust and be betrayed. You have to be let down. You have to listen closely and pay attention. Those with an agenda of any sort will ultimately out themselves, but you have to listen and you have to take chances. Sometimes you’ll take some really bad advice from some straight up con artists, and sometimes it will be from someone who means well, but honestly, that advice just wasn’t for you.

The people in your life, your friends, your family, your co-workers, society at large, they all want you to “stay on the plantation,” or “get back on the plantation.” Why wouldn’t they? They are just as enmeshed, they are just as enslaved for the most part. Be a good plow-horse, be a good provider, “Man up and (fill in the blank here).” “A real man (fill in the blank here.) And if you don’t, (insert whatever guilt, shame, and fear tactics here.)

Somehow, some way, you found yourself here, reading this right now. Maybe you follow me on Twitter. Maybe you’re on my newsletter. Maybe you found me on YouTube one day. I don’t know how you got here, but here you are. Welcome. Glad you made it.

Maybe everything I’ve said so far, you already knew. Old news and all of that, right?

So here’s the deal:

Your life is your own. Stop looking for someone to tell you what to do, and decide for yourself what’s in your own best interest for you. You’re going to rock the boat. You’re going to fuck up and fall down. You’re going to burn. You’re going to piss people off. You’re going to be guilted and shamed. You’re going to lose friends and loved one’s over your choices. You may even be ostracized and cast out of your group, your community, your clubs, or whatever social venues you inhabit. You’re going to be the villain. You may even lose your job over it. And if and when you decide to follow your own internal compass, you’ll be doing it alone. I cannot and will not hold your hand, because you have to burn and I don’t give a shit. That’s the bad news.

You learned how to walk at some point while you were growing up. I imagine you didn’t get it right on the first try. I imagine you fell down a lot and ended up with some bumps and bruises, maybe even some stitches and scars. And yet you learned how to walk and you survived. Same for figuring out what you want and what life, your life, means to you.

Wanna bang ho’s and be a bachelor your whole life? Fine, do that. Wanna wife a woman up and have a gaggle of kids? Fine do that. Wanna go be a hermit and live on the mountain in a log cabin, far away from civilization, hunting, hiking, and living off the land? Knock yourself out.

Whatever you do, go do that. Just make sure that whatever it is you want to do, it’s actually what you want to do and not someone else’s idea. Think for yourself. Be willing to take risks, because risks are mandatory and required. You’re gonna have to burn.

There are no magic pills. There are no quick fixes. There are no short-cuts. There’s no easy way to do it and no easy way out. You’re going to have to do shit over and over again until you get it. Repetition. Trial and error. Don’t get caught up or hung up on the results, just play around with it. You’ll get discouraged. You’ll get disillusioned. You’ll get tired. You’ll even get bored sometimes. Welcome to it. Welcome to life. Welcome to the rest of your life.

Take chances and fall down. Skin your knees. Be willing to burn it all down and start over again. Because fuck it, you only live once.

Stop apologizing for your own existence. Stop walking on eggshells. Stop being a pussy. Stop waiting for the “perfect moment.” It doesn’t exist. Stop waiting on God to give you a “sign.” Maybe this is that sign? Fuck it, I don’t know, I’m not you. Stop with all the personality tests, systems, and magical bullshit telling you what’s ideal for you. Stop tiptoeing around other’s because you might offend them. Guess what? You will. There, I took the suspense out of it for you.

Last thing:

If someone says something that makes you feel good, like a quote, or a platitude? That’s a narcotic. You feel good, you copy it down, put it on the wall, regurgitate it back to your friends and family, get a pat on the head and you get a cookie for being a good boy. And you end up right where you are now. How’s that working out for you bud? Things that make you uncomfortable, piss you off, anger you, and agitate you? That’s where the money shot is. That’s what you should probably be paying attention to.

I know I just shit all over platitudes and quotes, but I do have one for you to mull over and think about:

“Yours isn’t to find yourself. You’re not lost. You’re right here. Yours is to create yourself.”

So fucking create yourself. Or don’t. Either way, nobody gives a shit.

Welcome to the rest of your life.

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Like A Good Neighbor..

Rob SaysLeave a comment

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Mind your own business.

I did a Salt Lake Sit-Down with my friend, Brother, co-founder, and co-host of Masculine Geek, Vince LaRosa on Saturday. We talked about “wine, women, and song.” It was a really good episode if I do say so myself. You should check it out.

If you follow me at all on Youtube, you’ll know that I’ve been on a few different shows by different people. One of the most recent one’s is Jack Napier’s Red Pill Readings. We discussed The Manipulated Man by Esther Villar. I highly recommend this book if you haven’t already read it. It’s eye opening in many ways, particularly because it was written many years ago. 1971 in fact. At least according to the original copyright.

I first read this book over a year ago, and every time I reread it, I get more from it. I reread it before talking with Jack in order to refresh my memory and to pull certain details from it. I really like and enjoy literature that makes me think and this particular book does just that.

Now I’m not going to go into a book review here, I just needed to mention all of this to set the background or the context.

There’s a lot of talk out there on the interwebs about having “your mission.” What mission that is, is up to you. But apparently it can’t be about women. Women are a compliment, not the mission itself. I get that. But why exactly can’t women be your mission? What if I want to spend my days intertwined in their flesh? What if I want to wrap my arms around them and them me? I’m not talking about pedestalizing them here. I’m not talking about having them so much a part of my life that I don’t know where I begin and they end.

I understand their nature enough. I know they are “the most responsible teenager in the room.” I understand hypergamy. I also know it’s not a straightjacket. I know they aren’t all “sugar and spice and everything nice.” I get that they can branch swing. I also know that more often than not, they can be a huge pain in the ass.

Your Mission has become the new mantra. Well if you decide to not deal with women at all, or only in limited, superficial degrees, what’s the point in having a mission?

What’s the point in getting “jacked” and eating healthy and living a long life if you aren’t going to share it with someone? Or many someones?

What’s the point in “amassing incredible wealth” if all you are going to do is go be a hermit somewhere?

What’s the point in doing anything?

I enjoy the company of Men to talk about life, philosophy, politics, guns, exercise, and pretty much anything else under the sun, but I don’t want to fuck them. And getting a massage from a dude would just be…Weird.

I spent Friday evening in the company of a beautiful young lady. She’s vivacious, full of laughter, and she’s full of energy and life. She’s got a ton of issues that aren’t my problem and I have no desire whatsoever to fix. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But I felt energized and renewed after she left. I’ve missed that. I didn’t know it until it happened, but goddamn I’ve missed that. I missed being touched.

We are social creatures. We need to touch and be touched. I remember seeing something somewhere about a study or something that mentioned babies and the effects of being touched or not. I seem to recall that the lack of touch created all sorts of health issues for babies that didn’t get touched on a regular basis.Possible physical and definitely mental and emotional issues.

I think that doesn’t just apply to babies. I think that applies to everyone throughout our entire lives. A dead philospher, a religious text, and picking up iron aren’t going to replace a touch. Never have, never will. Neither will booze or other drugs. Want a real dopamine hit? Caress a woman’s shoulder. Run your fingers down her arm to that soft spot on her elbow. She’ll feel it and so will you. Touch her face. Close her eyes with your fingertips. Place your hand on her stomach. Let her touch yours.

Your mission can’t replicate that. Unless maybe your mission is that.

There’s more to life than dead philosophers and mental masturbation. There’s more to life than reading about the exploits and heroics of dead presidents. There’s more to life than just making money. There’s more to life than travelling the world and seeing the sights, but you don’t have someone to share that experience with. I’ve always felt that if I’m going to travel anywhere, it’s more important to me who I travel with than the destination. I may remember a certain piece of architecture, or a natural landmark, but it won’t move me like sharing that architecture or landmark with someone else will. All of my best memories of vacations and trips involved the parties I was with, not the locations that I visited. One of my favorite memories was at the Great Salt Lake, and that location is literally 5 minutes away from my house. Hint, it wasn’t the lake itself. It was who I was with.

Sometimes all that is really needed is just to touch and be touched. Sometimes all it takes to break through that haze of confusion, anger, and sadness is a finger tracing your jawline. Or a soft feminine hand gripping your forearm.

“Dood! You lost your framez/bluepill/beta/orbiter looser juicesqueeze lolololol!!!!!!!!1111”

Sssshh. Sit down. The Men are talking.

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