Don't know that I'm going to post for a few days. I just don't have the spirit to do it and do it well right now. I don't have much the spirit to even crank out some shitty, pithy length post so I won't waste your time.
Good luck and happy hunting. Hoist the black flag in my name. -With Greatest Affection
Trained hard. Hard considering the amt. of booze I drank this weekend. Harder considering how poor my diet and sleep schedule had been as well.
My technique's gotten better b/c I accomplished two things on the mats I had not before. I'll spare you the trivial details.
Made a delicious dinner to treat myself for 1) not drinking and 2) fighting the good fight at the gym. Nights like this give me hope. Hope that I may manage some semblance of normalcy in the coming months.
I know that tomorrow as the sun sets, I will hear the whispers of gibbering id....but for tonight...I feel good enough to not think about that.
Good luck and happy hunting my readers. -With Greatest Affection
I grow distant. I disconnect. I feel as though everything I do minus time at the gym sweating and bleeding is just going through the motions. I feel devoid of emotion. I feel like a complete sham of what represents a person. I feel hollow and devoid.
I see the same colossal leviathan waken and rise before me.
It takes every fiber of my being to resist the pull of temptation and not slide into a 2 months maelstrom of drinking.
So, I'm off to the gym for several hours. I bid thee well faithful readers. Good luck and happy hunting. -With Greatest Affection
"The life that was to make his soul would mar his body." Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray
Strolled into the cool evening air. My head and chest were fighting a battle for control. My head spoke of moving on and my chest strummed fingers upon reflections and longing.
I walked in my Chucks on the cooling pavement whilst feeling the night's languid air...yet somehow the white noise of crackling tension began to announce the night's possibilities. I posted up with a different crew than usual. Change was necessary. Something else was different: I was not drinking.
A fashion show took place which explained the bevy of girls taller than myself that had gathered at said drinking establishment like some herd of giraffe on migration. An Asian guy chatted me up due to our having mutual friends. He actually used some PUA lingo within the first few sentences. I told myself to be pleasant and sociable but I honestly had to force it. I was discordant. I was sober. I played around the room and ascertained who was with whom and who was more interested of each couple.
He was a cool kid, asked me about jiu-jitsu b/c our mutual friend had told him about my chosen sport. He was gung-ho about opening some pretty birds in the room, but I wasn't out to socialize with the fairer sex. I had simply come out to hang with my buddies and make it a sober night. I was doing surprisingly well on both accounts.
My mentor arrived and we chatted about the blowout with my girl. Walked outside and my buddy was chatting up two gremlin-looking coquettes. He introduced me (unnecessarily) and they acted like they were doing me a favor by giving me their names. Stupid college girl(s) inundated with dick offerings by guys in flip-flops, rockin' wayfarers, smelling like deodorant. Give it a couple years ladies.
I controlled my face and hid my disgust so as not to fuck up my buddy's approach. They walked away after one girl feigned that she didn't want to give my buddy her number. He was going to be the best looking guy that even looked at them that night. Period. I complimented one of the models (a ginger) on her walk. "Did you really just have to bullshit over that gremlin's phone number?" I asked. "Yeah. It's cool.You gotta' put in work sometimes." "I guess. Fuck those gremlin hags. They looked like 12 year old boys on Halloween wearing masks they bought from the Halloween store. 'Sides, I'm prettier than those bitches." Two of the models seated to my left began laughing and joined our conversation. They lightly shit-tested me for my "prettier than those bitches" line but I maintained frame. I wasn't looking and they weren't my type. Running tight game with girls you're not interested in is easy.
Complimented a nubian model on her walk. Complimented a Latina on her shoes as she sat blithely on a couch killing time. The coma people were out and about. The clique people were out and about. The out to be seen by others and take pictures for facebook people were out and about.
Good luck and happy hunting my faithful readers. Hoist the black flag. -With Greatest Affection
Found out I'll be moving in with a buddy in a week.
Some humor for your day, you ask? I've been living with my momz on and off for the past couple years with some temporary respites at various subleased places which functioned more as flophouses than actual places of residence. My mom left the state for awhile and I helped pay part of the mortgage once my 'rents decided to go ahead with the divorce. Then my momz moved back after that fell through and I've been helping her out with bills and such b/c it took awhile to find a job given the current economy.
This blog has come at a steep personal price. It has remained a bastion of truth in my double life. If there was room for the truth in daily life this blog would not exist. This blog is perhaps hyperbole at times, a diary open for the world to see, written anonymously. But then, as always, the mask slips and those not meant to see it have read the words.
Since I got back together with my girl I've actually behaved. Shocking, I know. My past is littered with indiscretions and poorly made choices and mistakes. I was giving it a go. I was spending nights playing on my computer and jerking off. I was behaving. I was being one of those normal people I hear about on television.
-- It's like the woman told me last weekend as I sat with her son. "Men make mistakes." She said it not judging, but one who had seen, been privy to, and been let down by men but knew this was just the road men must tow.
Allegedly, there are guys who don't slip. There are guys devoid of vice(s). I guess. At least, that's the image they do a better job than yours truly of maintaining for the world to see. I doubt there's many good looking, intelligent, charismatic, and confident guys that don't slip from time to time. If you find one, let me know.
Let me know how exciting that is. Women need a good reason to cry. A reason to get worked up, to shout, to scream.....if nothing else, the fact that her man is "too nice" will become the reason for the above. How many times have you heard chicks bemoan the fact that "he's too nice," or "he's nice, but....."??
Last night: I told some blonde girl she had toilet paper on her shoe. Her friend waxed poetic about how nice I was. In the midst of this bullshit 5 minutes, my girl called. I didn't answer b/c I wasn't up for a needlessly drawn out conversation where I had to qualify why I wanted to hang out with my guy friends and that "no" I wasn't picking up chicks. Typically, I only see my friends on the weekends b/c y'know, like, I train to fight and stay in shape and like, I have a job, and my buddies are not in school anymore. At any rate, I inadvertently hit the answer button on my phone at some point, and apparently she overheard my talking to a girl.
Alert the media. Someone call the news station. Breaking news. Like every night she's out I haven't heard from guys I know who work downtown about guys chatting her and her friends up. Her friends literally go to places they know that have more guys than girls. At any rate.....
What followed were vociferous texts and hurtful things. All over some blonde girl not even my fucking type chatting me up out of politeness b/c I told her she had toilet paper on her shoe.
Chris Rock said it best: Jump to 3:15 for the truth
From Kinowear: "confidence is built on the belief that no matter what happens, they can trust that they’ll handle it and take immediate correct(?) action. "
Doesn't seem to matter if I behave. I'm accused just the same. I can be a housecat for however long, but an unanswered phone call, a night out with my buddies and none of that matters. It still ends in accusation.
The truth shoppe may be shutting down, folks. I'll email my longtime readers if this blog shuts down and I start a new one.
"Every disappointment and mistake, summer's ebbing from a one night heartbreak....." -She Wants Revenge
