Julius_Seizeher
Master Don Juan
Without reading your exasperatingly long cry for help of a post, I can safely say that your philosophy also prevents you from getting laid or having a life.
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.
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.
Well thats true I have no friends and am a virgin. I'm poison to the gene's survival instinct. But I don't really think my philosophy is personal like my dad claims. I've read a plethora of PUA literature since 2004, and made a few weak attempts to put DeAngelo, Strauss, NLP, mystery etc into practice, but I wasn't really into it. I don't really have a strong eros drive. I only pursued it in a Hegelian sense by accepting what the wider culture commands of me. But the end result of me reading the Roissysphere was just to help cement a biological human nature theory of pessimism which just confirmed my philosophy.Julius_Seizeher said:Without reading your exasperatingly long cry for help of a post, I can safely say that your philosophy also prevents you from getting laid or having a life.
You've replayed it a hundred times. She stood three feet away, scrolling her phone. You had an opening. You composed the perfect line — after she was gone.
For all you know, she's married now. To some guy who said something. Anything.
Openers are cheap. Almost any sentence works when it's delivered within three seconds. The expensive part is the standing there, drafting and deleting, while the window quietly closes.
The "22 Rules" stripped out my hesitation. What to open with, how to keep it alive, and the one habit that costs guys more women than anything else: waiting for perfect.
You're a pseudo-intellectual fvckwit who needs to stop pretending that you're smart.enamdar said:Well I didn't graduate college, I just stopped going just short of graduation, and got straight Fs for the semester. I'm currently living on my own burning through my savings. I'm not supported by my folks except to the extent that a large part of my saving came from them originally. I suppose its a game of chicken. I'm just not going to act from any self-preservation. I'm not willing to take conscious action to struggle in the Darwinian struggle for existence and reproduction. Of course females prefer men with a job, and so-called independence. (Although I enjoy the maximum possible independence short of Walden, my only master is the ticking clock, so perhaps "independence" is not the admired trait afterall?) It is pointless to begrudge the mechanical genetic programming of Dawkin's survival machines. The ape-rapist best able to secure resources passes on its genes. There is nothing "conscious" about it. It is simply a tendency most likely to be preserve. If one is to be anthropomorphic one can call such behavior "cruel" or "sadistic", but it is simply a natural tendency to be preserved, even in humans. As Hume said one can not get ought from is. At first I was mystified by the human obsession with sex. For a long while I took a Calvinistic Puritan view that valued the reproductive values of sex against pleasure. Only a biological view, that it was indeed the genetic motive itself that produced such sex-cruelty made it comprehensible to me. So I'm pretty dismissive of the idea that a girlfriend offers any solution to metaphysical despair. Although I understand the genetic origins of such reasoning.
Get a puppy. That would cheer you up. And stop reading existential philosophy. It is useless in regard to puppies.
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.
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.
Most people just forget about their nihilistic views of existence once they start feeling their human emotions, even if they are illogical. You just roll with it, live, learn and love because you can't help it as you are just human animal. Although it's always fun to stare into the abyss from time to time and feel the freedom.Brighty said:I think the smart philosophers that agree with you realize what you are saying about our culture and existence as a whole but choose to dumb themselves down and "play the game" in a sense, because in the long term they realize they will reap more happiness that way.
ThunderMaverick said:What are your thoughts on suicide? Ever thought about using that as an alternative?
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.