When you were born, they told you everything was going to be alright.
Your parents loved each other. They lived happily together, in a 3 bedroom house in the suburbs.
You had an ideal childhood. Enjoying life's little pleasures, playing outside, crashing Hot Wheels, and not having a care in the world.
Even school wasn't so bad. You learned at an early age that you were smart. You did well on your standardized tests and excelled in learning. Yet you weren't the smartest of the smart. No one thought you would go on to become the next Einstein.
There was no real pressure on you. Just another average kid in the 80th percentile.
Then third grade rolled along.
The teachers... they called you hyperactive. They called you disruptive.
"I'm sure he has Attention Deficit Disorder", they would say. "You know you can fix that." Your mother would vehemently deny it, saying that you just had a lot of energy, that all 8 year olds have that much energy.
But that wasn't enough.
Soon enough you got your first script of Ritalin, and you behaved like the rest of them. Days began to fade together, and you soon became what they called "well behaved".
By middle school, you were confused, like the rest of the children that age. You didn't know what was happening to you. You were angry. You were disgruntled. By then, your mother had taken you off the script, seeing what it had done to you.
But that didn't help at all, since your hormones soon began to flow through your blood at a blistering pace.
Soon you became enamored with that blonde that sat across from you in Social Studies. You didn't know what to do or say, so you just sat there, hoping she would come talk to you.
But she didn't.
Soon enough, you saw her with one of your close friends. You bit your tongue, because you thought they were just friends.
Then high school came along. For all of high school, you attempted to distance yourself from your image in middle school. You tried to become something which you knew you weren't; joining one of the sports teams, trying to impress everyone. But soon you realized you weren't good enough, so you retreated back home to your safety, to your game console and your RPGs.
After all, they were the only way you could escape from this.
And before you realized it, you were a senior, about to depart to college. You lamented the fact that you were finally coming out of your shell, finally becoming who you wanted to be throughout high school. You had facial hair. You had newfound confidence. You had a girlfriend.
At the college welcome day, everything seemed exciting. You were going to make so many friends and be the best version of yourself. "Finally, a real fresh start!", you would say to yourself. You broke up with your girlfriend, because you thought you could do so much better in school.
Then orientation rolled around. You expected a full day of dumb seminars, teaching you not to plagiarize and how to write essays.
Instead, you got how you are a rapist. The thought never crossed your mind before. "How could I be a rapist?", you said to yourself. The lecturer, a 5'4 professor with purple highlights, stated bluntly that 1 in 5 of the boys in this room will be rapists in your college career.
You were shocked. All of that confidence seemingly went out the window. "What if I went home with a girl and we were both pretty drunk?" you asked your close friend. This is where things went downhill.
Talking to girls now was a chore. You had to mince your words in order to not come off as creepy, which bored them. They were too enamored with their smartphones anyway to care what you said. You were merely an afterthought.
College was tougher than you thought. They taught you things which made you feel even more emasculated, that it was your fault for all of societies' misdoings. You believed these things thoroughly, and adopted an apologetic mindset.
Even with these things taught to you, you still had hope that one day you would get one of those hot college girls. They finally started paying attention to you, as you would talk to them nonstop, have lunch with them, and continually just be there for them. In your mind, that was the way to a girl's heart.
On Halloween, however, you would see most of your girl friends, dressed in scantily clad mermaid outfits, go home with the frat boys. "Oh, they must just be bringing them home and dropping them off", you thought to yourself. You never really worried about that, since you assumed that no one else was hooking up, just like you.
Now things got frustrating. In your mandatory feminist theory course, you had to make a list of things that white males have done wrong. Out of principle, you refused.
"Why should I apologize when I've never done any of this?", you asked your professor.
The next week, you were meeting with administration. According to them, your peers had been offended by what you had said to them. They said you were insensitive, and that you had verbally victimized them. You got off with a warning, because you were a professional at apologizing.
By senior year, you had become the person you wanted to be. Two internships, a 3.7 GPA, and a job set up next year at a bank.
But there was one thing missing. You hadn't hooked up with a girl since the end of sophomore year, at that party that had Xanax in the jungle juice. You still felt inadequate, like something was missing.
So at the beginning of the year, you finally decided to approach a petite redhead at the cafeteria who you had your eyes on for quite some time. She seemed very interested, and even agreed to join you to the party on Saturday. You were equally as excited. "Finally, everything is going well for me."
When Saturday finally came, you pregamed as you normally do, with your group of 3 guys playing FIFA. Everything seemed perfect. You rolled up to the party, a bit late, with some extra swagger in your step. Walking into the party, you had all the confidence in the world.
You grabbed next on the beer pong table with your best bro, knowing that you would probably dominate. But there was one issue. She was nowhere to be seen. "Oh, she's probably running late".
After a few games and a few wins, you and your bud decided to retire from the table. You were pretty buzzed at this point, feeling pretty cocky from all the wins you had just racked up.
Then she walks in. She's wearing her rose colored dress, and looks amazing.
Like a best friend, your boy walks up to her friend, and introduces himself. While you'll never know how that went, you soon begin talking, and you soon begin making out downstairs in that musty frat party basement. With your confidence high, you ask if she wants to go home.
She resoundingly says yes. She consults her friend, and you see the head nod. The lights are all green. You catch a cab, and soon arrive at your place.
You take off her shirt, and she is loving it. Everything is going as you expected.
The sex was pretty solid, nothing spectacular. Granted, you haven't had sex in over a year, so this was a relatively fresh experience. You thought this would be the start of something great.
Then morning rolled around.
You woke up with a smile on your face, albeit with some baggy eyes, but with no girl next to you.
"Oh, she must have had something to do this morning".
You go about your day as usual, sending her a text, but getting no response, assuming that she is probably busy with whatever she is doing. You had no worries.
When you're in the midst of enjoying your new race perspectives class, you receive a cryptic email from the school administration. They say they need you in a meeting tomorrow at two. "It must be some sort of award for academic excellence they want to reward me with at graduation!", you think to yourself.
You roll up into the meeting, and it is a tense atmosphere. There are 6 administrators just staring at you.
Then they ask you the first question.
"Do you know Becky Dawson?"
"Yes, I do, I was with her on Saturday night."
That was all they needed. Soon enough, you got a letter, saying that you had 1 week to leave campus. Your parents were furious. You had no idea what was going on, as you repeatedly kept texting Becky, apologizing. It had no effect.
You were gone. All you had worked for was nothing now.
You had to go back home, where you would be inevitably hated by your family. By now, your mom and dad had separated, leaving you to live with your mom, who was dating new men.
You began to hate everything around you. Instead of trying to improve yourself, everything became a downward spiral. Life now sucked, and you now sucked. You tried your luck on tinder, but you realized that you would never get a date, so you stuck to pornhub. You gained 45 pounds in those six months.
Life was alright for you for those months, but suddenly, something snapped within you. When your mom brought home a new boyfriend on a Monday night, you were done.
"Fuck you mom, I'm living with dad now!"
"But dad doesn't want you, he said you're a disgrace to the family."
That was the lowest of the low. You went back down to your basement lair brooding. But this wasn't any normal brooding. This was scheming.
The next day, you went downtown, to the place which you always had been warned not to go as a child. Thankfully, in high school, you were friends with Terrell, who still knew your face.
"What's good bro?", he stated plainly.
"I need something for tomorrow."
"What you need?"
"This will do", as you point to the shiny metal object nearest to his pocket.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday came and went. "I'm going to do it", you kept repeating to yourself. "She ruined me, I'm going to finish her."
But then you realized something. It wasn't her fault, it was yours. You hadn't been nice enough to her. You were too confident that night, and you knew you could fix this. So you dropped the shiny toy, and googled "how to talk to girls".
Then you found a guy called RooshV.
And he told you everything was going to be alright.
Your parents loved each other. They lived happily together, in a 3 bedroom house in the suburbs.
You had an ideal childhood. Enjoying life's little pleasures, playing outside, crashing Hot Wheels, and not having a care in the world.
Even school wasn't so bad. You learned at an early age that you were smart. You did well on your standardized tests and excelled in learning. Yet you weren't the smartest of the smart. No one thought you would go on to become the next Einstein.
There was no real pressure on you. Just another average kid in the 80th percentile.
Then third grade rolled along.
The teachers... they called you hyperactive. They called you disruptive.
"I'm sure he has Attention Deficit Disorder", they would say. "You know you can fix that." Your mother would vehemently deny it, saying that you just had a lot of energy, that all 8 year olds have that much energy.
But that wasn't enough.
Soon enough you got your first script of Ritalin, and you behaved like the rest of them. Days began to fade together, and you soon became what they called "well behaved".
By middle school, you were confused, like the rest of the children that age. You didn't know what was happening to you. You were angry. You were disgruntled. By then, your mother had taken you off the script, seeing what it had done to you.
But that didn't help at all, since your hormones soon began to flow through your blood at a blistering pace.
Soon you became enamored with that blonde that sat across from you in Social Studies. You didn't know what to do or say, so you just sat there, hoping she would come talk to you.
But she didn't.
Soon enough, you saw her with one of your close friends. You bit your tongue, because you thought they were just friends.
Then high school came along. For all of high school, you attempted to distance yourself from your image in middle school. You tried to become something which you knew you weren't; joining one of the sports teams, trying to impress everyone. But soon you realized you weren't good enough, so you retreated back home to your safety, to your game console and your RPGs.
After all, they were the only way you could escape from this.
And before you realized it, you were a senior, about to depart to college. You lamented the fact that you were finally coming out of your shell, finally becoming who you wanted to be throughout high school. You had facial hair. You had newfound confidence. You had a girlfriend.
At the college welcome day, everything seemed exciting. You were going to make so many friends and be the best version of yourself. "Finally, a real fresh start!", you would say to yourself. You broke up with your girlfriend, because you thought you could do so much better in school.
Then orientation rolled around. You expected a full day of dumb seminars, teaching you not to plagiarize and how to write essays.
Instead, you got how you are a rapist. The thought never crossed your mind before. "How could I be a rapist?", you said to yourself. The lecturer, a 5'4 professor with purple highlights, stated bluntly that 1 in 5 of the boys in this room will be rapists in your college career.
You were shocked. All of that confidence seemingly went out the window. "What if I went home with a girl and we were both pretty drunk?" you asked your close friend. This is where things went downhill.
Talking to girls now was a chore. You had to mince your words in order to not come off as creepy, which bored them. They were too enamored with their smartphones anyway to care what you said. You were merely an afterthought.
College was tougher than you thought. They taught you things which made you feel even more emasculated, that it was your fault for all of societies' misdoings. You believed these things thoroughly, and adopted an apologetic mindset.
Even with these things taught to you, you still had hope that one day you would get one of those hot college girls. They finally started paying attention to you, as you would talk to them nonstop, have lunch with them, and continually just be there for them. In your mind, that was the way to a girl's heart.
On Halloween, however, you would see most of your girl friends, dressed in scantily clad mermaid outfits, go home with the frat boys. "Oh, they must just be bringing them home and dropping them off", you thought to yourself. You never really worried about that, since you assumed that no one else was hooking up, just like you.
Now things got frustrating. In your mandatory feminist theory course, you had to make a list of things that white males have done wrong. Out of principle, you refused.
"Why should I apologize when I've never done any of this?", you asked your professor.
The next week, you were meeting with administration. According to them, your peers had been offended by what you had said to them. They said you were insensitive, and that you had verbally victimized them. You got off with a warning, because you were a professional at apologizing.
By senior year, you had become the person you wanted to be. Two internships, a 3.7 GPA, and a job set up next year at a bank.
But there was one thing missing. You hadn't hooked up with a girl since the end of sophomore year, at that party that had Xanax in the jungle juice. You still felt inadequate, like something was missing.
So at the beginning of the year, you finally decided to approach a petite redhead at the cafeteria who you had your eyes on for quite some time. She seemed very interested, and even agreed to join you to the party on Saturday. You were equally as excited. "Finally, everything is going well for me."
When Saturday finally came, you pregamed as you normally do, with your group of 3 guys playing FIFA. Everything seemed perfect. You rolled up to the party, a bit late, with some extra swagger in your step. Walking into the party, you had all the confidence in the world.
You grabbed next on the beer pong table with your best bro, knowing that you would probably dominate. But there was one issue. She was nowhere to be seen. "Oh, she's probably running late".
After a few games and a few wins, you and your bud decided to retire from the table. You were pretty buzzed at this point, feeling pretty cocky from all the wins you had just racked up.
Then she walks in. She's wearing her rose colored dress, and looks amazing.
Like a best friend, your boy walks up to her friend, and introduces himself. While you'll never know how that went, you soon begin talking, and you soon begin making out downstairs in that musty frat party basement. With your confidence high, you ask if she wants to go home.
She resoundingly says yes. She consults her friend, and you see the head nod. The lights are all green. You catch a cab, and soon arrive at your place.
You take off her shirt, and she is loving it. Everything is going as you expected.
The sex was pretty solid, nothing spectacular. Granted, you haven't had sex in over a year, so this was a relatively fresh experience. You thought this would be the start of something great.
Then morning rolled around.
You woke up with a smile on your face, albeit with some baggy eyes, but with no girl next to you.
"Oh, she must have had something to do this morning".
You go about your day as usual, sending her a text, but getting no response, assuming that she is probably busy with whatever she is doing. You had no worries.
When you're in the midst of enjoying your new race perspectives class, you receive a cryptic email from the school administration. They say they need you in a meeting tomorrow at two. "It must be some sort of award for academic excellence they want to reward me with at graduation!", you think to yourself.
You roll up into the meeting, and it is a tense atmosphere. There are 6 administrators just staring at you.
Then they ask you the first question.
"Do you know Becky Dawson?"
"Yes, I do, I was with her on Saturday night."
That was all they needed. Soon enough, you got a letter, saying that you had 1 week to leave campus. Your parents were furious. You had no idea what was going on, as you repeatedly kept texting Becky, apologizing. It had no effect.
You were gone. All you had worked for was nothing now.
You had to go back home, where you would be inevitably hated by your family. By now, your mom and dad had separated, leaving you to live with your mom, who was dating new men.
You began to hate everything around you. Instead of trying to improve yourself, everything became a downward spiral. Life now sucked, and you now sucked. You tried your luck on tinder, but you realized that you would never get a date, so you stuck to pornhub. You gained 45 pounds in those six months.
Life was alright for you for those months, but suddenly, something snapped within you. When your mom brought home a new boyfriend on a Monday night, you were done.
"Fuck you mom, I'm living with dad now!"
"But dad doesn't want you, he said you're a disgrace to the family."
That was the lowest of the low. You went back down to your basement lair brooding. But this wasn't any normal brooding. This was scheming.
The next day, you went downtown, to the place which you always had been warned not to go as a child. Thankfully, in high school, you were friends with Terrell, who still knew your face.
"What's good bro?", he stated plainly.
"I need something for tomorrow."
"What you need?"
"This will do", as you point to the shiny metal object nearest to his pocket.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday came and went. "I'm going to do it", you kept repeating to yourself. "She ruined me, I'm going to finish her."
But then you realized something. It wasn't her fault, it was yours. You hadn't been nice enough to her. You were too confident that night, and you knew you could fix this. So you dropped the shiny toy, and googled "how to talk to girls".
Then you found a guy called RooshV.
And he told you everything was going to be alright.
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