Waiting for the global warming

Today I am depressed.
Normally I would claim that is because of having masturbated… but I haven’t masturbated in ages.
Or I would say that is because I haven’t had sex with someone from a long time… but I actually had sex less than a week ago.
When it happened yesterday I said that it was because of having been awakened too early from the centralised fan. It’s engine just above my room… but I made such a fuss that they turned off the centralised fun, so nothing like this happened this morning.
Of course there was a time when I would have said that it was because of the diet… but my diet was perfect in the last weeks.
I also have done meditation daily in the last weeks, and went to an interesting workshop that made me upgrade my skills.
Or I could accuse the lack of real friends, and this might actually be true… but, truth to be told, it is not that much worse than in the past weeks or months. In fact it is actually better.

Somehow this depression seem to be only tied to an inbalance of serotonine. Something I know I have, and the shitty weather in central europe isn’t really helping at all. Cold, damp, no sun, no pussy, and no friends.

I want to go home.
But there is no home,
my friends have left my hometown.
My ex girlfriends are all married, or getting there.
Still the weather in mediterrean countries is much warmer,
and the sun is more bright than any girl I have ever fucked.

P.S. Tessa, avoid commenting, please. Give me a break.

News from the jail: becoming a womanizer

At least I had the pleasure of being my own oracle, which is one of the few pleasures you can give yourself, alone. Since my believe system bars the way to the mountain. The direct way toward self fulfilment; I shall take the indirect road. The one that goes down the side, through the swamp and the dirt.

I suppose when I have validated myself as a male, it shall be easier to let it all go. It is the woman who you never fucked that will hunt your dreams when you are old. Not the one you fully took. In other words, I am committing myself to become really a womanizer. Enough of this wishy-washy. Half saint, half sinner.

I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

Neither fully. Neither deeply, neither totally. And since:

If you want to go to the left you need to go to the right,
if you want to go up you first need to go down

Then I am going bastard inside, and learn the Game. Study it in details; join a lair; go to workshops; practice; find wingmen; learn lines; and apply all the concentration, chi, energy, focus, power I have been able to pull off for my meditation for the questionable aim of picking up girls and making them happy… or at least sexually satisfied. I also might need to learn NLP, although I have moral issues in becoming an hypnotist for a laid.

I am starting by working on my clothing style. I am used to go around dressed like a bum. Which was ok for me, since I use to see myself as the incarnation of the natural-man. Spontaneity. The son of a cavewoman and Albert Einstein. Plus it made my inner game tighter. If you can be at ease covered and not dressed you can really be at ease everywhere, anyhow. But the fact of being at ease with rags, does not make your Game easier, just yourself more secure. You still need to take off the rags to Game well.¹ And now is the time.

I shall also make a list of books to read. Start to reframe myself for this topic. Understand when to push and when to pull. When am I getting an IOI, when an IOD and when a neg or a bitch-shield². I use to know a lot. I was not very succesful, but I would try hard. And I had discovered some of the principles that seem to be fundamental in the game. For example I used a fake time constraint all the time opening girls on the street. I would convey it by my body gesture, by the direction my feet where pointing, by the tome of my voice. But although I did some practice it was abviously not enough as I manage to f-close only few times… if we ignore the ones in which the woman just wanted me and took me regardless of all my social errors.

I need to learn to control the frame, and generally the martial art of social situation. Also note that I am already very good in doing all this in the academic world. I know I have value, and thus I am uninterested in everything-everyboody, while being also brilliant. This brought me to the point that I don’t need to search for jobs. Jobs, like trouble, hunt me. Well, I need to learn to do this also with the “gentle” sex.

In other words I need to transform myself from an AFC to a PUA³. And I want to do it without killing my naturality, but by enhancing.

It’s hard to meditate when you have no money to eat. Not just because you need to eat, but because you need to get your hands dirty with the world before leaving it. A similar principle is at work here. I can’t leave the game before having really faced, and mastered, the Game. It’s a compulsion, an genetic necessity, a morally reprovable act I just need to do to feel I have completely lived my life.

So, please, …

…tell my mother I am not coming back

——

1) Take off the rags and put on some clothes!

2) IOI=indicator of interest
IOD=indicator of disinterest
push=pushing a girl away, feigning disinteress, usually through a IOD.
pull=giving IOI to a woman, making her understand that she can still win you, if she tries.
The whole thing follows the cat string theory, and uses her attraction for the barely attainable to get her into building compliance momentum. This momentum is then used to escalate physically. It’s an art, and it can be mastered. It has been mastered plenty of times by people much more socially inept than me.

3) AFC= Average Frustrated Chump,
PUA= pick up artist.

Chemically induced happiness

I am happy.

I am not particularly happy to be happy. I am just happy. And a bit bored of being so superficially happy. So predictalbly in high mood. Because my high mood has no spiritual reasons. No spiritual qualities, or no virtues. It’s due to a pill; a medicine; it is a chemically induced happiness!

No, not Prozac, although probably not that far off.

My happiness comes from having been celibate in the last 3 weeks. And … (1)

You can’t be celibate and not be happy. Not as a men. Not when you do 3 hours of meditation a day. It’s just in our body. From the steroid to the Testosterone, is just a chain reaction. A causal relationship. A falling stone. And the Testosterone then stabilizes the effect of serotonin. And this gives us a high…. (2)

(1) …and the unhappiness comes, deep, deep down, from knowing…
no!
…from believing that I cannot keep it up. That eventually I shall start again masturbating, sexual fantasizing, onanistically destroying myself. (3)

I had a dream. In this dream I had escaped from jail with 5 jailbirds friends of mine. The dream was filled of the mixed sensation of happiness coming from freedom on the one side, mixed with the fear of being caught, and ending back in jail, on the other.

(2) …but the high in Serotonin induces bliss. And bliss uses up serotonin. Which makes the whole thing unstable. Add an extra hour of meditation, just to ground yourself.
daily.

If I were to take a pill to have bliss, would you consider me a saint? No.

Then why if I reach the same state by just moving the energies in my body in the correct way you think of me better. On what ground is your judgment done. I am not critizising you for judging me. I love people who have the braveness to judge, differentiate and criticize. I am criticizing you for judging me on a fakely stable ground.

It’s just another trick. There is no added value.

(3) A woman cannot understand this. Women cannot understand many things about men. But they keep on trying, which is fine, and thinking they are suceeding, which is ludicrous.

Women just can’t understand.