"She Liked You in March. It's October Now."

Attraction runs on a clock.

She flirted for weeks. Touched your arm. Found reasons to be alone with you. And you were careful. Respectful. Waiting for the right moment.

The moment had a shelf life. It expired around month two, and by the time you asked her out, she'd quietly filed you under "little brother."

One of the hardest lessons inside the 22 Rules: women rarely wait. Interest either grows or it decays, and nothing decays it faster than a man who never moves.

Make the move while she's still inventing reasons to be near you.

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Shogun - The Tragedy Of Beauty

taiyuu_otoko

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Passage from the book, "Shogun."

Here are the thoughts of Toranaga about a young, 17 y/o super gorgeous courtesan named Kiku that everybody wants.

The more things change...

He saw Kiku coming across the sun-baked courtyard, her little feet in white tabi, almost dancing, so sweet and elegant with her silks and crimson sunshade, the envy of every man in sight. Ah, Kiku, he thought, I can’t afford that envy, so sorry. I can’t afford you in this life, so sorry. You should have remained where you were in the Floating World, courtesan of the First Class. Or even better, gei-sha. What a fine idea that old hag came up with! Then you’d be safe, the property of many, the adored of many, the central point of tragic suicides and violent quarrels and wonderful assignations, fawned on and feared, showered with money that you’d treat with disdain, a legend—while your beauty lasts. But now? Now I can’t keep you, so sorry. Any samurai I give you to as consort takes to his bed a double-edged knife: a complete distraction and the envy of every other man. Neh? Few would agree to marry you, so sorry, but that’s the truth and this is a day for truths. Fujiko was right. You’re not trained to run a samurai household, so sorry. As soon as your beauty goes—oh, your voice will last, child, and your wit, but soon you’ll still be cast out onto the dung heap of the world. So sorry, but that’s also the truth. Another is that the highest Ladies of the Floating World are best left in their Floating World to run other houses when age is upon them, even the most famous, to weep over lost lovers and lost youth in barrels of saké, watered with your tears. The lesser ones at best to be wife to a farmer or fisherman or merchant, or rice seller or craftsman, from which life you were born—the rare, sudden flower that appears in the wilderness for no reason other than karma, to blossom quickly and to vanish quickly. So sad, so very sad.
 

"She Made Her Decision Before You Finished Your Sentence"

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.

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Clockwerk50

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I am looking forward to watching the TV show, after the new seasons of White Lotus and The Last of Us of course.
 
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