Sometimes I wish I knew nothing of game. That I could be another unknowing drone, blue pill in every word of its sense, shuffling unwittingly back and forth between societally approved pastimes. I’d be happy to bang my wife (missionary) once every second month or so and make my job title the definition of who I am in life and how I measure progress.
This is however an impossibility. Once you’ve gone into game deep enough to know the thrills and fruits of success that comes with it you can never again know the happiness that comes from ignorance.
I have just returned from a 9 night trip to Montreal (separate Trip report/Data Sheet coming) and the post-vacation melancholy is creeping up on me. I had 5 notches in those nights and I consider that below my average. I admit that nutting in a girl more nights than not cannot in any sense of the word be considered bad. But every one of those nights I had dates that flaked, balked at the last minute in the sofa, I was balking (because fuck it I can’t stand this bitch etc) or there just was nothing biting. Most of all the quality was not what I was used to. On my own “Hell Yes!/Yes/No” scale of female ratings my record for the week is 1/4/0 (compared to 4/2/0 for my NYC trip in January).
Make no mistake, I’ve had a good time, though not great. The standards I set for myself these days are almost impossible to live up to however. Thus the chase becomes eternal and the happiness that comes with it is derived in small doses that dissipate as fast as the cum stains on the sheets dry up. This lack of lasting joy is really starting to grate on me. The modern world in general is to me as chewing cardboard, a tasteless mush. From my very extensive travels, studies, vocation and living I’ve learned that contrary to what most people on the forum feel it’s not my country, western society, cell phones or whatnot that are responsible. It’s your own wishes fulfilled.
It was a long time ago that I lost count of the number of women I’ve bedded (I’ve never bothered keeping score as I do this for my own reasons and not someone else’s approval) but it is undoubtedly in 3-figures these days. I have my end game pretty much laid out. I won’t cover it here but it involves the only woman in my life that I have something as love (what the masses describe it as) with, someone that has a quiet acceptance of my eccentricities and “straying” when outside the country’s limits. This is all a situation and life that most men would give one or both of their nuts to live. Yet I derive little pleasure from it, it’s something that’s already available to me, there’s no challenge or chase available there.
When can a player rest?
This is however an impossibility. Once you’ve gone into game deep enough to know the thrills and fruits of success that comes with it you can never again know the happiness that comes from ignorance.
I have just returned from a 9 night trip to Montreal (separate Trip report/Data Sheet coming) and the post-vacation melancholy is creeping up on me. I had 5 notches in those nights and I consider that below my average. I admit that nutting in a girl more nights than not cannot in any sense of the word be considered bad. But every one of those nights I had dates that flaked, balked at the last minute in the sofa, I was balking (because fuck it I can’t stand this bitch etc) or there just was nothing biting. Most of all the quality was not what I was used to. On my own “Hell Yes!/Yes/No” scale of female ratings my record for the week is 1/4/0 (compared to 4/2/0 for my NYC trip in January).
Make no mistake, I’ve had a good time, though not great. The standards I set for myself these days are almost impossible to live up to however. Thus the chase becomes eternal and the happiness that comes with it is derived in small doses that dissipate as fast as the cum stains on the sheets dry up. This lack of lasting joy is really starting to grate on me. The modern world in general is to me as chewing cardboard, a tasteless mush. From my very extensive travels, studies, vocation and living I’ve learned that contrary to what most people on the forum feel it’s not my country, western society, cell phones or whatnot that are responsible. It’s your own wishes fulfilled.
It was a long time ago that I lost count of the number of women I’ve bedded (I’ve never bothered keeping score as I do this for my own reasons and not someone else’s approval) but it is undoubtedly in 3-figures these days. I have my end game pretty much laid out. I won’t cover it here but it involves the only woman in my life that I have something as love (what the masses describe it as) with, someone that has a quiet acceptance of my eccentricities and “straying” when outside the country’s limits. This is all a situation and life that most men would give one or both of their nuts to live. Yet I derive little pleasure from it, it’s something that’s already available to me, there’s no challenge or chase available there.
When can a player rest?