leftForDeadPhoenix
Don Juan
Pook has put up another good post on his blog: Live In The Talent
His writing just keeps getting better. Keep it up Pook.
His writing just keeps getting better. Keep it up Pook.
She says the movie looks dumb; you suddenly agree. She tests you with a little attitude; you apologize for nothing.
You think you're being easy to get along with. She reads something else entirely: a man with no edges. Nothing to hold on to. No friction, no tension, no reason to wonder what he really thinks.
The "22 Rules" taught me to push back — playfully, calmly, without needing her approval. Strange things happened after that.
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.
When I read B.S. like that last post on Pook's Mill, I ask myself the exact same question.Gaucho said:Oh god, that is rhetoric if ever I have read it.
Is Pook actually successful, or just likes to live in fantasy land?
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.
I dunno, for me it's not really hard to understand. It's about using your sexual energy to accomplish greatness. It's not a new theory. It's more about accepting that reality of yourself instead of using your sexual energy for merely pleasure alone. I think it's a good observation on human nature that a lot of modern men miss.Technical1 said:I guess its cool if you want to preserve Pook's memory and image or whatever.... but "Just live in the talent"?
live....in the talent?
what-ever.
I mean to say with this inspirational stuff it gets to a point where nobody knows what the author is exactly talking about anymore but nobody cares because he is "inspired" "enlightened" and hey, inspirational messages are ALWAYS good, de facto and de jure. (I actually dont know what the second expressions means lol).
An inspirational message has to be targeted to its audience like any other peice of writing. You can excuse Pook on the basis that he's on a higher level than someone like myself, but then who is this spiritual elite that is reading Pook's work and finding truth in the mantra "Live in the talent?"
So I guess I just have to accept that Pook is over my head, and that the reason his writing makes no sense to me anymore is because I havent reached his level. Well, if that were the case he could be a little more cryptic and esoteric rather than speaking in tones which seem open to be understood by everyman. Because he still writes like an inspiration for the man in the street except it doesnt make sense anymore. Live in the talent? Sex and man's striving form an ellipse?
You paid for dinner. You drove. You said "whatever you want is fine" every single time. All the effort, no expectations.
And she left anyway — probably for a guy who makes her pick up the pizza.
Painful. Also predictable. Her mind quietly concludes that anything requiring zero effort from her is worth exactly zero. You became a free sample, and free samples get taken for granted.
The 22 Rules flip the dynamic. Small shifts that get her investing effort, money, and time in you — until SHE'S the one afraid of losing YOU.