Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAOriginally posted by Centaurion
HOLY ****ING ****
!!!!!2`54234312!@#!@3`1!%$@#$!@@$$#!41
IF I EVER SEE YOU IN REAL LIFDE IM FUYCKING GONNA RIP YOUR ANUS OUT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR MOUTH!~q!!!!!!!!
YOU ****ING GAVE ME A HEARTATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
You made your case like a lawyer. Stable job. Good guy. Ready for something real. All true. All irrelevant.
She weighed your points, nodded along, felt nothing — then fell hard for some tattooed bartender with a motorcycle and a gambling problem.
Logic is where attraction goes to die. The "22 Rules" work a level deeper, on the subconscious switches that decide within minutes whether you register as a MAN or as part of the furniture.
Stop presenting evidence. Start flipping switches.
Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
Slap :cheer: :crackup:Originally posted by drixsa
It's 2:45am and i opened that link up sitting in the basement by myself...
...Excuse me while I change myself...![]()
LOl. You have no idea how hard I am laughing at this right now. Thnx!Originally posted by bullmoose
Maybe I'm just an old Marine but when $#!+ like that happens -- even during fright scenes in movies -- I unconsciously reach for my sidearm. My hand doesn't move, but there's a spasm in my shoulder as my brain still tells the hand to move to the hip and unsnap the holster. I can still actually physically feel my hand doing it; this is probably what "phantom pains" feel like. Weird.
That said, this was pretty damned lame.
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.