In the past few weeks I’ve come to some sort of mini enlightenment or realization. Perhaps even a crossroads. After pulling rather consistently in Brickell, and raging hard and scooping some decent talent in NYC the past two weeks, simply put, average girls do absolutely nothing for me anymore.
The best analogy I can give is biblical. Once you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, the lens through which you view women as a whole changes forever. If she’s not feminine, sexy, has at least a 7 face and 9 body, or 8 face 7-9 body I can’t motivate myself to go through the motions or even at times relent to an enthusiastic offering unless I’m feeling exuberantly horny on that occasion.
Its like game has become almost automatic to me. I’m on autopilot and sometimes I can run through the whole interaction in my head before it even comes to fruition. The open, the segue, the playful parries to direct questions. Everything. Sometimes I’ll do exactly that, simply to prove to myself that I’m not fabricating some false confidence or belief. It’s similar to a chess game where I can see ten moves ahead to checkmate. The end result is unwavering. A lack of interest, and a recurring theme that has really begun to resonate with me lately:
The women I surround myself with are a reflection of my value subconsciously. The hours I’ve spent on countless approaches, late nights of work/studying, hundreds of workouts at the gym simply don’t justify demeaning myself to a less attractive or classless woman. To put it bluntly, bedding a girl of this scale leaves me with an irrevocable pang of deep remorse that can span for days on end. I honestly believe it is detrimental to my progress as the individual I seek to be.
A view on this forum I have repeatedly come across is that if you don’t practice your “game” you will get rusty or lose it. In my opinion, this is complete bullshit. My lifestyle, and even the way we are wired as humans propels us to grasp at and achieve something always one step ahead, one step higher. In that sense, when I cross paths with an exquisite girl, my juices are flowing. I have a primal instinct to want what is there, and do what is necessary to get it. “Turning on the charm” is not an issue for me. If anything, attractiveness has become an accelerant.
Which brings me to my dilemma. I grow acutely more hesitant that I am headed down a road to which there may not be an end. In a sense, I’m stuck in a perpetual cycle of always seeking the infinitely “hot” girl, the “hotter” girl, the “finer” girl, the “hottest” girl.
Maybe I’m narcissistic, or maybe I’m a realist. Yes, this has lead to less notches. Yes it has required more dates. And yes, it is also extremely time consuming and frustrating (as we all know some of the most beautiful woman are often the most capricious). But maybe this is nature’s way of subtly torturing a wayward soul such as me. I feel like a fish in purgatory chasing the ever elusive sparkling allure of the classically beautiful woman. The Greeks have always said the greatest sin of all is hubris. Maybe for that, not just I am guilty?
The best analogy I can give is biblical. Once you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, the lens through which you view women as a whole changes forever. If she’s not feminine, sexy, has at least a 7 face and 9 body, or 8 face 7-9 body I can’t motivate myself to go through the motions or even at times relent to an enthusiastic offering unless I’m feeling exuberantly horny on that occasion.
Its like game has become almost automatic to me. I’m on autopilot and sometimes I can run through the whole interaction in my head before it even comes to fruition. The open, the segue, the playful parries to direct questions. Everything. Sometimes I’ll do exactly that, simply to prove to myself that I’m not fabricating some false confidence or belief. It’s similar to a chess game where I can see ten moves ahead to checkmate. The end result is unwavering. A lack of interest, and a recurring theme that has really begun to resonate with me lately:
The women I surround myself with are a reflection of my value subconsciously. The hours I’ve spent on countless approaches, late nights of work/studying, hundreds of workouts at the gym simply don’t justify demeaning myself to a less attractive or classless woman. To put it bluntly, bedding a girl of this scale leaves me with an irrevocable pang of deep remorse that can span for days on end. I honestly believe it is detrimental to my progress as the individual I seek to be.
A view on this forum I have repeatedly come across is that if you don’t practice your “game” you will get rusty or lose it. In my opinion, this is complete bullshit. My lifestyle, and even the way we are wired as humans propels us to grasp at and achieve something always one step ahead, one step higher. In that sense, when I cross paths with an exquisite girl, my juices are flowing. I have a primal instinct to want what is there, and do what is necessary to get it. “Turning on the charm” is not an issue for me. If anything, attractiveness has become an accelerant.
Which brings me to my dilemma. I grow acutely more hesitant that I am headed down a road to which there may not be an end. In a sense, I’m stuck in a perpetual cycle of always seeking the infinitely “hot” girl, the “hotter” girl, the “finer” girl, the “hottest” girl.
Maybe I’m narcissistic, or maybe I’m a realist. Yes, this has lead to less notches. Yes it has required more dates. And yes, it is also extremely time consuming and frustrating (as we all know some of the most beautiful woman are often the most capricious). But maybe this is nature’s way of subtly torturing a wayward soul such as me. I feel like a fish in purgatory chasing the ever elusive sparkling allure of the classically beautiful woman. The Greeks have always said the greatest sin of all is hubris. Maybe for that, not just I am guilty?