I saw this on another forum
http://media.npr.org/programs/newsnotes/features/2006/mar/carter/blurb200_lg.jpg
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http://media.npr.org/programs/newsnotes/features/2006/mar/carter/blurb200_lg.jpg
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You replay the conversation at 2 a.m. She texted back fast yesterday. Today, nothing. Was that smile friendly or flirty? What did the shoulder touch mean?
Every hour you spend decoding her signals drains your confidence and hands her the controls. Women can sense that insecurity from across the room — and it repels them.
One of the "22 Rules" kills the obsession on the spot: assume she likes you, and act accordingly. Sounds too simple. Works anyway.
Her interest tends to rise to meet your expectations. Psychologists call it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.
The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.
Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.
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.
HandyAndy said:I saw this on another forum
http://media.npr.org/programs/newsnotes/features/2006/mar/carter/blurb200_lg.jpg
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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.
33 year old Kevin Carter was his name. Tragic story.Skel said:dont know if this is true but from what I have heard the person who photographed this commited suicide a few months after this photo hit the front page of, I think it was national geographic or something like that.
The kid in the photo was walking to a town a few miles away for food but never made it.
Most guys accidentally kill attraction before they even speak. They assume they need a bigger bank account, a better physique, or smoother lines. They miss the point.
Female desire operates on a specific set of psychological triggers. Break them, and you're invisible. Follow them, and you become magnetic.
I learned this the hard way. Years of freezing up. Getting friend-zoned. Watching other guys walk away with the girl I wanted. Then I discovered a set of 22 simple rules that rewired my entire approach.
That picture is described in House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski... I never knew it was a real photograph.HandyAndy said:I saw this on another forum
http://media.npr.org/programs/newsnotes/features/2006/mar/carter/blurb200_lg.jpg
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Really?Rudra said:On the beach in Surfer´s, Australia.. Little japanese guy, about 5 or 6 y.o., standing beside his parents, both all bloated and shYt from water, both drowned trying to pull him out of the 3 m high waves. Paramedics worked at them for qute some time, but...
Picture from hell.
Yup. Went to TSS for a year back in the day. BTW remember three guys from Toronto there)Quiksilver said:Really?
I used to live there... It's a pretty wicked beach, soo many lifeguards.
I guess **** happens tho, eh?
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.