prairiedog24
Senior Don Juan
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2009
- Messages
- 298
- Reaction score
- 13
Edit: oops, posted in the wrong thread.
When a woman says it, guys hear a confession. A heads-up. A scheduling conflict.
Here's the translation: I don't feel anything. Right now. With you.
Watch what happens when a man triggers actual attraction. The busy career, the recent breakup, the "not in a place to date" — all of it evaporates instantly. The same woman who was guarding her freedom is suddenly free every night.
The "22 Rules" explain why. When the right switches flip, her timeline rearranges itself around you.
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.
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.
Azudragon and I look up too you snow dog! You should check out Blueprint Decoded by Tyler Durden, man its babylonian for sure. I have one question, how do you react when people say "your so different" when they didn't believe you couldn't change,, and the girls who wouldn't want to to talk to you, but now are trying to befriend you? What toyou do, when the old H.S bullies that never invited you to their parties, now want to be your friend and hangout?snowdog said:I'm too drunk right now to type a complete story. But all I can say is, that I'm a natural flirter now. In every situation with girls, I'm the most charming guy you'll see. I just don't know yet how to turn it into a number/kiss/f@#% close yet.
I'm having a bit of a problem with mood swings, ya know? Most of the time I feel great, even awesome. I just don't care what others think of me. When people try to break my balls I own them still. When I'm good, I'm the f*cking best, and I'm serious. But sometimes I get depressed, which really sucks. I'm aware of it happening and I can't do much about it but wait till it's over.
I'm aware that little chat I have evey once in a while with my therapist isn't for nothing. I still can't believe how people destroyed so much of me during my childhood. I'm not saying this because I want you to feel sorry for me, it's just that it's true. There are situations where I just lose control, because I just miss a piece that I need to get a hold of situations like that. I talk about that sh*t, and it keeps my mind occupied because I'm still dealing with it, subconsciencly. I'm away in my head sometimes. That's also the reason why I was in a car crash a month or so ago. I was so occupied with my sh*t that I crashed head-on into a f*cking bus. I'm not kidding. The car was totaled. I'm lucky to even be alive. If I'd had been in a sh*tty car I'd had a steering wheel in my eye and an engine in my stomach. I'm sharing this to show you what an unbelievable burden I have to deal with. It can keep me so occupied I can't even do a thing that even the dumbest retards can do: driving a car. You find it strange that I haven't got the time yet to learn how to deal with the opposite sex?
I'm getting better, much better every day. But I'm not there yet.
Believe me, I will get there eventually. And when I do, I will f*cking reign that sh*t. Mark my words. Eveything I have tried in the past that was hard for me, I succeeded, and I did it with f*cking flying colors. I just kept working on it till I got it. That's why I can play every solo Slash and Jimmy Page have played, that's why I can play pretty much everyone off the stage with my guitar, that's why I owned pretty much everyone at skateboarding when that was my sh*t. I broke bones, I spent hours and hours and hours trying the same licks. But I succeded eventually.
I don't give a sh*t. I really don't. This is my goal now, and nothing can f*cking stop me.
15,931
Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
Thanks guys. That's awesome.Azudragon and I look up too you snow dog! You should check out Blueprint Decoded by Tyler Durden, man its babylonian for sure. I have one question, how do you react when people say "your so different" when they didn't believe you couldn't change,, and the girls who wouldn't want to to talk to you, but now are trying to befriend you? What toyou do, when the old H.S bullies that never invited you to their parties, now want to be your friend and hangout?
That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.
Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.