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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Single Mother’s Raising Sons

woman holding baby while sitting on fur bean bag
Ain’t It Cute? Awww…

So the other day at work, I got a helper, we’ll call him “John,” who went out on route with me.

While we were out doing our thing, and kicking ass at it I might add, having an extra set of hands will do wonders for productivity and efficiency, John and I got to bullshitting…

John is 30 years old. He’s on his second marriage, and between him and his wife, they have six children. (Talk about the Brady Bunch.)

Anyways, John’s marriage is decaying. He’s thinking of leaving her.

There’s trust issues on both sides. Apparently he started “dating” a while back when they separated. Then they got back together. Now she’s about to branch swing.

Branch swinging for those that don’t know, is when a woman is finding another man and is getting ready to jump out of her current relationship.

I know she’s branch swinging because John told me about it. She’s not being sly or coy. She’s told him that she’s met some dude and he’s “really cute,” and he “really understands her.” But they are “just friends.”

For now at least.

John’s marriage is a shit show to say the least.

His wife went to court for selling alcohol to a minor at her job. She got caught in a sting and one of the results of her poor decisions was that she lost her job, and now she’s facing fines from the court. From what he told me, she has a “hard time” holding down a job.

She knows how to push his buttons and push them she does. He knows her’s as well.

Like I said, it’s a shit show.

The biggest red flag that I heard about though, is that she is a drug addict.

She injects meth.

Meth is probably the worst of the bad news when it comes to drugs. At least in my opinion. And injecting it?

I don’t know what the street lingo is these days for injecting drugs, but when I was younger, it was called “Mainlining.”

Mainlining is a huge deal. Injecting drugs gives an instantaneous hit, whatever that hit is. It goes straight into the bloodstream and straight to the heart and brain. Whether it’s a stimulant, like meth, or a depressant like heroin, it’s effects when injected are immediate. It’s worse than snorting or smoking a drug.

If you or someone you know is injecting drugs, you have serious problems ahead of you if not already.

Seriously, it doesn’t get worse than this.

John grew up with an absentee father. His Dad was working all the time or wasn’t very attentive and active with his children. So his mother became his role model so to speak.

He’s a good looking guy, he takes care of himself and is really physically fit. He’s easy on the eyes for the ladies, I know, because I watched him and them interact throughout the day. I would even say John has decent game.

John is also a White Knight to a degree and is definitely a Captain Save a Ho. He’s trying to save his wife from herself. I get it. I would want to help my wife too. Problem is, she doesn’t want to be saved. She enjoys her lifestyle and her habits, and he enables her.

John told me that the only person he has ever feared in his life is his mother. I don’t really have the words.

He still fears her. To me, it explains a lot of his behavior towards his wife and to women in general. He’s looking for that approval from them. He basically is trying to do “the right thing.” To be a “good boy.”

Because he’s looking for approval from the women in his life, he’s made his life about the women in it. They are the Mission. They come first. They are his focus.

Do you guys do that?

Do you make the women in your life your central focus?

Do you seek their approval in who you are and what you do?

Do you let them define what a “good man” is for you?

Do you let them define your masculinity?

A long time ago, I did.

And it got me nothing but confusion, heartache, sorrow, and bitterness.

It’s a dark road going that way, letting a woman define and decide who and what you are.

If you let them define your masculinity for you, it will be to their betterment, not yours.

Our society is so ingrained with this way of thinking that it has become the norm. It’s part of why boys and men today are so feminine. It’s also why both men and women are so confused and unhappy with each other as a whole, as genders.

Women need to stop defining what masculinity is for men.

For our part as men, we need to stop listening to women telling us how to be men. We need to stop sitting at their knees.

That’s what father’s are for, ideally. If not your father, then another man. Not your mother. Not your sister(s), not your girlfriend, and not your wife.

Men define masculinity. We know best about that because we are masculine, we are men.

There’s a saying going around the interwebs, and it’s something like this:

Don’t ask a fish how to fish, ask a fisherman how to fish.

Don’t ask a woman how to be a man, or what makes a “good man.” She doesn’t know, she’s not a man. Oh don’t get me wrong, she’ll have all sorts of ideas of what she thinks makes a good man, but she has her head up her ass and is up in the night about this one. She truly has no clue.

Don’t ask a woman how to “pick up” or seduce women. She doesn’t know that either. You want to know about picking up women, ask guys who pick up women and are really good at it.

In my family, there was one member that has seen it and done it all. They had an opinion on everything and how you should do “it”, whatever that was. Can you guess who that family member was?

It was my mother.

I love her dearly, but goddamn, the woman needed to shut her gob sometimes.

I’ve learned if I want to truly get things done, especially quickly and efficiently, I talk to my father. His advice to me has been practical and priceless. He doesn’t say much, he just does. He also keeps the “you should’s” and “you ought to’s” to a minimum.

To wrap it up, I leave you with this:

Women aren’t perfect, I love that they try. My mom did the best she could with the limited knowledge and skills that she had. I’m sure it’s the same for your mother’s as well. Don’t be dicks to them.

But stop listening to what women think a man should be. Stop letting them define your masculinity for you. Stop seeking their approval. You can virtue signal all you want to them, they still won’t fuck you.

We men don’t have to answer to women. We can have our own ideas about what is being a man and being masculine without having to submit or consult with women. You do not need their approval.

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You’re Missing Out If You Don’t Read This

man wearing pink polo shirt with text overlay
Hurry now! Or you’ll miss out on…giving me your money! Or something…

Did that subject line get your attention and make you want to read this post?

Something I’ve noticed on Twitter lately, at least with a lot of the people that I follow.

They are good persuaders.

Young and older guys that I hope are making a killing at selling whatever it is that they are selling.

Good for them if they are.

I got sort of a problem with it all to a degree though.

As I’m getting older, I’ve come to realize that I don’t really want for much. My bills are paid. I’ve got a little extra in the bank (nothing spectacular, nothing that would carry me for the rest of my life, but enough to tide me over in the event that I got fired or decided to quit at the last moment without having something lined up.)

I have all the toys that I could ever want or need.

I’ve got more books, digital and paper, than I will ever read in this lifetime.

Got a decent home. (Nothing fancy, but it has enough space for me, my shit, and two cats.)

What I want for in my life, at least right now, is some quiet. A little peace. Not that my life is filled with strife, chaos, and drama, because it’s not. I designed my life that way.

Getting back to the guys on Twitter, and even some of the email lists that I’m on, how do I know they are good persuaders? Because of FOMO.

If you don’t know what FOMO is, it’s Fear Of Missing Out. I didn’t know what the hell it was when I saw somebody mention it, so I had to go and look it up.

These guys are so good at what they are doing that they even had me convinced that I was Missing Out. Missing out on a great opportunity. Missing out on a great price. Missing out on….whatever.

Christ, I felt like a ten peckered owl trying to get laid.

There’s a guy on Twitter, right now (at least the last time I checked anyways) named Dean Abbott. He’s writing about what he’s calling The Quiet Life.

Sounds good to me.

Maybe if you are young and are just starting out in life, the Quiet Life isn’t for you. I get that. It sure as hell wasn’t for me when I was in my late teen’s and through all of my twenties and even into my early 30’s.

But now….

You know what I want to do?

I want to smoke a good cigar and sit on my deck and watch the sunset. I want to listen to the rain fall.

You know what I don’t want to do?

Feel like I’m Missing Out.

Because really I’m not.

And neither are you.

The course that is for $XX.XX? It may go up in a few days or weeks or whatever. It may not. It may go away forever. That’s okay too. I was okay before that course hit my awareness, I’ll be okay long after it is gone.

Same with whatever book is being sold. Or seminar. Or webinar. Or conference. There’s a couple of conferences coming up later this year that I would like to attend, but time and money….

Mostly time. Money I can make.

While I’m sure that I would get some great experiences and whatnot from these conferences, meh.

I was fine before they came along, I’ll be fine after they are gone.

If any of you guys follow anything in the Manosphere and in particular, the Red Pill, (which I’m sure most, if not all of you are familiar with both) you hear a lot of talk about Unplugging.

Unplugging from “blue pill” ideals. Unplugging from the gynocentric society that we live in. I’m pretty sure you all know what I’m talking about.

But what about unplugging from being sold something?

I’ve been “unplugging” for a few years from the blue pill ideals and I’ve never had any regrets and have never looked back. And yet I find myself still “plugged in” when it comes to FOMO and certain persuasion “tactics” and sales pitches.

Do I think they are “wrong?” Not at all. For the guys who are selling, like I said earlier, good for them. I hope they make a killing and get everything they desire.

But do I want to hear it all the time? Especially knowing that if I don’t pay careful attention to what they are saying and how they are saying it, I’ll end up with a big case of FOMO, a lighter wallet, and a bunch of stuff I may not actually need?

No. I don’t want that.

I want The Quiet Life.

The only thing I want to be persuaded on right now is that cigar, a smooth drink, some good company (maybe one or more of you guys?) and a good sunset.

We could talk about all sorts of shit. We could talk about nothing at all. And it would be good by me.

Getting caught up in the hype will make you miss out on one thing though:

Your Life.

Keep that in mind.


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