No Shame

portrait old person sad

When I was younger, as in elementary through my high school days, I didn’t have much if any, shame in being a young man. Sure, there were a handful of women primarily, that were taking up the chant, “men are pigs,” and “all you think about and all you want is sex,” but for the most part, it was a small minority of people doing the shame tactics that are so prevalent in today’s world.

Once I entered college, all of that began to change. It wasn’t something that hit you like a tidal wave, it was slow, creeping, and insidious. Little things that showed up gradually. Think of a frog sitting in a pot of water that is slowly boiling. By the time the frog figures it out, it’s too late. Same for me. By the time I figured it out, it was too late. I was already feeling shame and guilt for having natural desires and for being a man. All I knew was that I felt bad for being a Man, but I didn’t necessarily know why. Maybe I was just “inherently evil.” Maybe I was a piece of shit because I was actually a piece of shit.

The how’s and why’s of this taking place aren’t that important to me anymore, it’s the knowledge that it happened and it’s still happening to both me and other Men that’s more important to me now.

Waking up every day and hating yourself for being alive and being a Man takes a toll on you. Apologizing for your own existence and for breathing the same air that a woman next to you is breathing is a special form of hell for the Man who is living in that world.

I don’t know when or the date that things really changed for me, I wish I did. I wish I did so that I could tell what the catalyst, or the “straw that broke the camel’s back” was for me. I don’t have that answer though, and honestly I don’t believe that it is all that important. All I know is that I got tired and angry with apologizing for my own existence and I got sick and tired of being sick and tired and so I gave it up.

I stopped apologizing, and in the beginning I was throwing “it back at them.” Yes, I’m a Man. Yes, I’m in “your space.” Yes, I’m breathing your air. Yes, I want to bang you. Fucking deal with it. After a while though, even that got old and tiresome. Carrying a chip on your shoulder and having an axe to grind is almost as bad as being the apologetic one. So I gave that up as well.

That’s when things got really interesting for me. When you don’t really give a fuck, anything is possible, and I’m not exaggerating. Part of me wants to shout that from the rooftops and maybe that’s what this is by me writing it down, and part of me doesn’t care if you read or understand this.

Fellow Men can lovingly insult me all they want and it doesn’t get a rise out of me at all anymore. Sure I know that they don’t really mean it when they do insult me, and even if they really did mean it, I don’t care. It’s easier to not give a fuck unless it is in my face and I have to deal with it, and when it is, I’ll deal with it, one way or another. Until then, fuck it, it doesn’t matter. It’s damn near impossible to insult or shame a Man who doesn’t give a fuck and is with no shame.

Some of my fellow Men jokingly say, “You can’t insult Rob, because he has no shame.” It’s true. I really have no shame these days. I do what I want because that’s what I want to do and I don’t care if they come along or not. I don’t care if they “like” it or not. I did the guilt and shame thing for so many years and got nothing from it other than misery and more guilt and shame, I figured I might as well do what I want, enjoy myself while I’m doing it, and see what happens.

This is why I laugh now when I see Men and women get themselves riled up over politics, feminism, and outrage porn. None of that shit matters in the end. None of it is really about you, especially if you are a Man, you aren’t the target audience. You can’t change it on a global scale, or even on a local scale. The only place you can change it is for yourself and maybe in your own home and that’s it.

When I decided to “lower my standards,” another world opened up to me. I’ve been able to meet all sorts of people that I wouldn’t have met before. Sure, many of these people I wouldn’t keep in my life for the long haul, but I don’t have a problem having them around for the short run. It’s made my life and my world much more colorful and interesting for me. By “lowering my standards,” I’ve had experiences that I would have never had, and none of those experiences have been “bad.” I’ve not regretted any of these experiences to date, not a single one. If anything, they’ve made me ask myself, “what else is possible here? What else can I do?”

I guess I’m trying to push the envelope of what I can do and who will show up in my life for me. Every one of those experiences and every one of those people have been positive and have taught me something about myself and about life in general so far. One of the things I’ve learned is that life is messy and chaotic at times. It goes in directions that you can’t always anticipate or control, but you can control how you deal with it and how you want to feel about it.

You can get angry about the way things are, because they aren’t going the way that you want them to go, the way that they should be. Or you can accept it and adapt to it and come out “better” for it. Ultimately it’s up to you.

The biggest challenge that I’m having these days is not that I’m angry or feeling shame, because I’m not experiencing any of those things anymore. The biggest problem for me now is having the “ambition” to write about it. I’m just happy to be doing what I do and having the experiences that I’m having with the people that I’m meeting. I’m almost to the point that I would rather sit down with you and smoke a cigar, look at women for what they are, enjoy seeing them for what they are, and telling a few off-color jokes. Also I would rather sit down, drink a beer with you, and look at a fire burning or the ocean churning, depending on what location you and I are at.

Don’t worry though, I’ll still keep writing and doing my videos. I’ll still keep running my mouth in multiple forms and on multiple platforms because I enjoy doing that, it’s definitely one of my pleasures, and not a guilty one.

And that’s because I have no shame.

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My Cats Send Their Regards

Let me tell you a story. It starts everyday when I get home from work. The long haired Maine Coon hybrid, his name is Nermal, is waiting for me, like a dog, at the top of the stairs. He’s so excited to see me. He’ll start crying and meowing as I’m locking up the door. He’ll cry and meow as I’m walking up the stairs. He’ll meow and reach up and put his front paws on my leg as I reach the landing. He wants me to pick him up, which is no little thing, considering he’s about 20 lbs of cat. So I’ll pick him up and carry him into the kitchen and I’ll rub his head as I’m doing it. He’ll push back against my hand and his motor will be running the whole time. His purrs are very loud.

Kubuki, my tuxedo cat, will come out from behind the stereo entertainment system, or out from under the kitchen table, or out from under the couch, where ever she has been hanging out, and she’ll cry and start rubbing up against my legs, begging to be petted.

This routine happens every day. From what the girlfriend tells me, Nermal will start meowing and crying when I leave the house. He’ll either go down the stairs and cry at the door, or he’ll sit on the landing and do it. Apparently he’ll do this for quite some time. My girlfriend has tried to shut him up, distract him, try to get him to come to her during my absence, all to no avail. I guess my cats are devoted to me.

Later in the evening, or during a lazy weekend at home, when ever my girlfriend or I try to sit on the couch with our laptops, the cats come along and want to be front and center. They will sit right on the laptop itself, right while you are typing whatever it is that you are typing. We can push them off and two minutes later, they are back. They will try to force themselves either on us, or in between us while we are relaxing in the living room.

The only “peace” we get from them is when we go to bed at night, and that’s only because the bedroom is a “cat free zone” because we shut the door at night. Even then, Nermal especially, will sit outside the door and do this guttural, weird, “meow howl.” He is going “feral” as I call it. I can open the door and tell him to shut up. That only encourages him. I can use a spray bottle filled with water and hose him down. I’ve done that many many times. All it has done is get him to move out of range. He’s a smart bastard.

What is the point of this story? I’ve realized that I have learned many lessons from my cats. The lesson I’m illustrating here is Persistence. My cats are nothing but persistent. They will have their way eventually. They are pretty patient about it too. Nothing deters them from getting what they want. They want to be on me? It WILL happen. Sooner or later, it will. What does this have to do with anything?

It is about EVERYTHING. Everything you do, you must be persistent. You want to get in better shape because you let yourself go? Persistence. You didn’t get fat overnight, you ain’t gonna lose it overnight either. You want to make more money? Again, persistence. You’re going to have to get up and get your ass out there. You’re going to have to hustle.

Want to start your own business? Persistence again. When you first come up with an idea, it’s awesome. You are full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the world. You’ve done some research and found something that you would like to do, and so you do it. You build a website, you get your license to do whatever it is that you want to do. You get your tax I.D. You even find some product or service to sell, whatever that is and then…..

Nothing happens. No customers are banging down your door to buy whatever it is that you are offering. So you place some ads, you tweet your shit on twitter, you post on facebook a bunch of times, you take an ad out on Craigslist. And still nothing.

This is where persistence is key. You HAVE to keep going. Otherwise your business will fail before it had a chance, before it even got off the ground. This is the part you DON’T hear about on YouTube videos or on some course that you bought on the internet. This is where it becomes WORK.

Persistence is getting up at o’dark thirty everyday, rain or shine, and going to the gym. Persistence is when you don’t see any results at all, but you keep hammering at it anyway. Persistence is when you have faith that something, sooner or later, will happen. Persistence is when you go out chasing women and you get blown out. And you WILL get blown out. But maybe, just maybe, that next one will say yes to your invitation. You won’t know until you go after it. One thing I do know is if you quit, you WON’T be getting that woman that is right in front of you.

Persistence is getting your ass out of bed every day to go to work. Especially when you don’t want to. Persistence is writing another e-mail, another blog post, making another phone call, crafting another tweet, posting another picture on IG. All when you are the only one that is reading them or looking at them. All when everybody doesn’t read that post, doesn’t answer that call, or hangs up on you.

Persistence is pushing ever forward even when you sometimes want to give up and watch Netflix.

Think about your kids if you got them, or how you may have been as a kid. When you and your family went on a road trip, what did the kids do the most? “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” That was me as a child. I’d say it so much my Dad would get pissed off and say, “Don’t make turn this car around!” And then I would say it again for good measure. That’s persistence.

Look at these two lovelies:

How can I say no to that?

Persistence is work. You have to keep at it everyday. Even when it seems pointless and stupid. Even when you don’t want to. Especially when you don’t want to.

“But I’m tired!” Yeah? Me too. Cry me a river. I’ll get plenty of sleep when I’m dead.

As a final note, my cat’s both sleep with one eye open. There’s a lesson there too, but that’s for another day. 😉

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