Tuesday, August 20, 2013

I'm missing huge pieces of installed software in my brain

This statement on the PUA-ish blog Return of Kings got me thinking (emphasis is mine, not in the original):

If you take a look at Seddit, a forum for the worst game advice on the internet, you’ll quickly come to the realization that men simply want the magic piece of advice to get their dream girl instead of making structural changes to their beliefs or game. 


Seddit, for those not familiar with the map of manboyland, is the seduction section of Reddit.  Reddit is a confusing website that at first seems like a piss poor news aggregator for militant atheists who like cat photos, but is pretty sweet once you figure out how to turn the nobs, shut off the stoopid shit and subscribe to the really cool stuff.

As to the bolded text . . . I've never had a dream girl. Most guys just bounce through life thinking every girl who catches their fancy is The One.  Think about the movie 500 Days of Summer and maybe move on to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for excellent examples of the needy nerd need for the dream girl.  (No one needs to mention the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope here, because frankly I think it's an over-extended argument based on the basic male wish for a girl to be magical in general.)

When I look at women, taken as a whole, I just don't see it.  In fact, I go long stretches between seeing women who even remotely get my attention.  Find the vast majority of women -- including ones that I know on some level to be aesthetically pleasing -- to be dreadful and boring.  The worst part is that I value personality a lot more than the average guy seems to value it.  And, to be blunt, do you have any idea how lacking in personality women -- especially attractive women -- are?  Seriously, would it kill you bitches to learn how to hold up your end of a conversation?


Over the last 5+ years of my life, I've dedicated myself to a methodical process of self improvement.  I've made more money, lost weight, got in shape, work on socializing more, go out more often, etc, etc.  In the process, I read a lot of the stuff that guys involved in self improvement read.  And that eventually led me to Neil Strauss and The Game (great narrative, easy read, fucking terrible advice).  Then of course, I followed that thread to the PUA blogs and on and on.  The options are as endless as the male desire to lockdown that perfect dream girl, or conversely to punish all living women for never letting him have her.

A funny thing happened along the way.  I realized that my issues were not their issues.  These guys were worried about getting any girl to look their way!  Holy shit!  That must suck.  But not my problem.

Game shed light on some of the more interesting mysteries of my life.  Don't ever get me wrong about that.  For example, it helped me understand what the hell why every chick around went on the fritz when they saw me with my very hot college friend Sonya (who wanted more), including a girl who had previously outright rejected me.

The funny thing was that I learned a big chunk of Game from my first big "like" in school.  Playing back when a girl likes you transfers a lot of power to you.  I developed a withdrawn and aloof personal style that sticks with me to this day.

One of the big lessons to absorb about game is that there is no girl who is The One.  Forget that shit.  The next big lesson is don't lavish them with attention.  For the love of gawd don't get all lovey. 
Well?  I had that all figured out after the first girl I went after hard.

But it also became a cancer in my personality.  While other guys running around calling women bitches and snarling at them for not giving them attention, I developed almost the opposite affect.  I ignored and mistreated them for giving me attention.  It's an addiction I still struggle to handle.

Oddly, though, it means there's almost no advice out there in the world for me.  I just exist.  I'm a detached, aloof and pointless human being just floating through the empty space between other people's lives.

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