| I've been meaning to write a field report for several months…
I'm not into reading reports riddled with egotism and exaggerated glory. If I write something, it’s because it’s worth reading. And fuck that, you can hear about how retarded my life has become since I left the shores of "chodely comfort" to pursue the dream of "sexual abundance" and "higher liver". Haha….
Where’s Dorothy and my yellow brick road….
Me:
266 cold approaches
A story:
And where better to start then drooling myself stupid over a beautiful 25 year old Mauritius girl, being verbally trampled by my 8 month mutual “one-itis” - an emotionally unstable 18 year old regular that leads an entourage of 35+ year old father figures with hidden agendas and losing interest in a perfectly saucy European girl who’s facial expressions quickly conjure up never visited before scenarios involving her, a dirty jail cell and a desperate heroin junkie with a perfect body.
All in the same night and yea….my imagination is retarded….
For quite obvious reasons, each of these three women would have a constant influx of male approaches (I notice that yield is different when they sit in different positions logistically). Well I call it the “chode-congo”. It’s to such a degree that if I was any stupider than I am now I would have believed that the stream of guys that were hitting on my Mauritius friend was in fact just one guy who kept changing his shirt and pants every time I looked over at her. The same spot, the same hand gesture, the same awkward lean and cheesy smile, just a different shirt and an unhealthy tolerance for awkward conversations and expressions of disapproval from attractive women.
I totally understand that, of the 500 people that pass through this club every night, they could have picked from any of the men; single, divorced, married, young, old, gay and probably an otherwise high proportion of women would have agreed also. There is scarcely any who could match their beauty. As a man, you can’t enter the lives of women like that, you can’t brute force your way in, and competition is only a word that is really only appropriate for their “objectively speaking: lower-value” contemporaries.
They each found their way into my life separately; all as friends I was quick to disregard, each happy to implicitly convey the fondness they developed for my personality and openness. Apart from my one-it is, who was less then happy about the extent to which her nervous behaviors betrayed her actual emotions. Aware of this, she childishly responded by polarizing her behaviors oppositely in a poor attempt to conceal her emotional vulnerability (this created a power game – I didn’t participate in). Ultimately it cost her much more then it initially protected her from. That or I’m a social violator with a deformed sense of social intuition and she actually thinks I’m a freak – nothing would surprise me these days.
Several of these three seemed to know about my one-on-one friendship with one-another and responded textbook pre-selection (apart from my one-itis who I would only guess found the other women so intimidating she looked for plausible reasons to become aggressive and on occasion verbally abusive).
And then there’s always a tax to being successful in particular any aspect of your life, or in my case being perceived as being successful with one woman. A guy 4 years my senior (that would otherwise be reasonably cool) made a frustration-driven, reaction-seeking vie for dominance towards me privately after I took the European girl (his target) onto the dance floor. Which did nothing but temporarily feed into my ego – he changed his attitude once he understood my position with the women in the group (which for record was nothing more then a unconsciously created, thick smokescreen of IODs, cocky funny remarks, scarcity, approval-keeping behavior, situational confidence and allot of social proof that was generated from that smokescreen – I provided no legitimate value AT ALL, it honestly sickens me).
How things panned out with each of these three girls is irrelevant. But knowing that someone of greater legitimate value, greater confidence and self-belief or from a place of less emotional self-punishment and indifference could have inspired a better response (ultimately picking from these three) has a fucked impact on my self-esteem.
More maddening then mediocrity is acknowledgement of greater possibilities and then awareness of your own never changing and insufferable incompetencies as an individual and a man.
A lesson:
The fact that I believed that I had no value to offer the Mauritius girl would have been enough for her to completely lose interest in alignment – even if I did possess legitimate value for her. In the same way, a man that does not have legitimate value for her but honestly believed that he does, would have overcome the evaluations I failed.
Believe in yourself and the value you offer others – I wish I could.
A one-itis is my unhealthy addiction. With most drawn-out romantic failures by AFCs, the pain of an incident is usually amplified by the degree to which the girl likes you back – and there’s nothing that fucks up your day more then screwing up a chance with a girl that already likes you. I’ve passed and failed enough tests from women in my life but I have never seen someone get so seriously pissed off at me for failing such demanding, integrity-based congruence tests – even I’m starting to wonder if I’m a bigger loser then I originally thought I was.
Ultimately she wanted someone who could pass those tests, someone to respect and tell her to shut the fuck up when she was being unreasonable. I thought I had a strong frame and the self-belief I needed to naturally deal with second-class behavior from anyone, but I simply didn’t. In my case, through pro-longed romantic stimulation and inaction I knowingly (completely inadvertently) somehow, managed to create an emotionally exhausted, frustrated and intensely angry individual.
I guess I accept her complaints about my inadequacy as a man, but more painful then that is the perfect foresight of a situation, the knowledge base to handle it appropriately and then the execution of a slack jawed, bamboozled moron with an artificially created set of standards and self-beliefs. Therein lies the full potential of self-administered punishment. Enjoy.
The irony being that she still feels attracted - huh? (That assumption is based on proximity, plausible conversation entry and visual pinging: “stolen glances”). But instead of enjoying her interest in me for what it is or what it could be, she preferred to avoid the anxiety and emotional risk, instead taking refuge in emotional concealment. Every once in a while I’ll see a faint crack in the clouds that lets a thin stream of sun light through but for the most part she continues to play into her power game that only temporarily feeds her desperate ego the sense of control it craves.
Sometime later, in between the almost certain waves of regret and dejection, I will feel a tingle of contentment at the realization that I acted in higher character and displayed greater composure during uncertainty and indescribable fear. But only in a way that is dwarfed by the vividly daydreamt instances of late night sexual gratification and companionship that I now truly appreciate is only afforded to males of higher value – not me.
The damage anyone can do to you is not only in the damage they can do to you, but the damage they can make you do to yourself.[/i]
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CHAT