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The Lows: my inner-game long dark night of the soul.
This is probably one of the weirdest posts I’ve ever put up. What follows is not a proper post but a monologue I wrote to myself as an exercise to try and sort my inner game out when I had a really bad day the other week. For various reasons that day my serotonin levels were really low and I’d had an awful few hours sarging. I felt lower than a hammered turd. I really felt like it was all pointless. I felt so bad that I didn’t think I could sleep properly with my head spinning so I decided to sit and type out everything I was thinking and sort my head out. It worked. It really did. Writing is a fantastic therapeutic tool and is the best way I know of to order your own thoughts.
I’ve pasted in the whole monologue below. Take it with a massive pinch of salt. It was not written as a blog post. I’m posting it up because of a few reasons:
- I find that publicizing my personal thoughts to the world builds character and moral fibre as a lot of people, a lot of whom I know, read them and there’s the chance I could get flamed massively and have to be certain enough of what I’ve written to not be bothered by it.
- An important step in sorting my inner-game out is admitting that it is still far from perfect and this monologue certainly does that.
- I brutally attack my ‘great experiment’ and game itself and force myself to defend them and justify what I’m doing. So yup, posting this up is a commitment to myself that I’m happy with the answers I came up with. Also, it’s good to get some Devil’s Advocate going on this blog to show that I’m not a brainwashed pro-game cult follower.
- I want to show the power of journaling as a therapeutic tool.
I found the whole exercise so powerful that I may well start having regular “conversations with myself” as an inner-game/self development exercise. I mean sitting and typing a self-justifying monologue, not mumbling and spitting like a scary man in the Asda car park.
Here we go..
*****************************
I’ve just returned from a shit few hours of sarging. I shouldn’t really be blogging now as I feel pretty depressed and bleak (I think my always precarious serotonin levels have crashed after the strong coffee I had earlier spiked them) but I crave the therapeutic effect and don’t want to go to bed until I’ve sorted my head out.
- This is by far the worst time of year to try and do daygame. The weather is shit and everyone is mad busy. January will be slightly better but it’s going to be ten times harder than daygaming in summer. I look back on the summer now as a period of amazing daygaming potential. The problem was I’d never daygamed at any other time so I didn’t know what I was missing. Fit women everywhere. Great targets walking past left right and centre. And there’s me in the cold and snow trudging round Covent Garden for an hour tonight trying to find two sets, both of whom didn’t want to stop. Ugh.
- Attractive women live lives unlike any other people. They’re generally like spoiled puppies. They simply don’t go out when it’s cold, dark or wet if they can possibly avoid it.
- Women go out on their own a lot less than men.
I think a strategic issue I’m having is that with my level of skill a woman needs to be in the mood to waste time or wander about to be willing to engage in a set.
What I’m trying to achieve is mind-blowingly difficult. I’m stopping a woman on the street, chatting her up and attempting to within minutes build enough attraction to get her to agree to come for a coffee with me. I’m then within that period going to attempt to build further attraction and add enough comfort so that she will continue contact and come out on a day two. Tough. Very tough. This is not normal and this is not in most women’s reality.
The man negative thought bubbling round my head is “is this all a waste of time?”.
- How many successful PUAs do I know that can reliably pull 26> year old, highly intelligent, highly attractive British women?
- Are the ‘successful’ PUAs simply not just churning through the numbers and simply sifting massive quantities of women to find the ones that are naturally attracted to them?
The only PUAs that I know are a) some guys off the LSS and b) the guys from RSG. The former don’t have girlfriends and the latter all seem to have foreign girlfriends.
Are any PUAs using Game to get intelligent, sorted, beautiful British women?
My guess: unlikely.
Why?
Because I don’t believe there are very many intelligent, sorted beautiful British women. Bang. A part of the conclusion of the Great Experiment is put in place. Exactly how many fit, sorted, attractive British women do I see? Most of them are foreign. How many men do I know that are with these women. None.
There are some of these women about but they are awfully thin on the ground. They are scarce. It’s amazing when you go to a foreign country and you see beautiful women that look like models and you find out they’re dentists and journalists. What’s gone wrong with Britain?
The 60-second answer is:
- Poor genetic stock (body and mind)
- Obesity
- Cultural and social issues
I feel very sad now. I am not joking. I am actually quite upset to be typing this. It’s like hearing that someone has died. I finally realise that part of what I suspected actually is true and the chances of me ending up with and being delighted with a woman of my own background and culture is negligible.
I MEAN HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?
Society has got so twisted that a high value man cannot partner with someone of his own culture anymore.
A race dies out.
Just like that. In a couple of generations, all that world-changing Anglo-Saxon genetic stock bred out by feminism-by-numbers and the tv generation.
Looping backwards, I did say that there are these girls about but they are inaccessible. Most of them end up punching way above their weight and going out with bankers and guys with yachts. Their social identity is very important to them and they want someone to fit right into their social group and whom their friends will be impressed with. They generally end up dating guys they’ve met through colleagues at work or through friends.
Unfortunately for me my job precludes me from ever meeting these women.
Some PUAs thrive on pulling young, foreign women. At some level to me I always wanted to pull a slightly older (28-32), fit, intelligent, sorted British woman. Do I really want to be dating young Fillipino students, Czech shop-girls, Asian language students? Well it’s certainly be good for a laugh but I have to admit I always wanted to date the former as well.
Game is fake
Daygame is just a numbers game. Approach a hundred women and find the one that likes you. And she’ll probably be young and impressionable and naïve.
Bargame is a lie. How many people do you actually see copping off in bars? People who hook up meet through friends or colleagues and just use the bar as the excuse.
The way that most guys who are successful with women do this is by:
a) Working in an environment with lots of fit women.
b) Being cool (having social value within this environment).
c) Having game.
Is it time to go?
The UK is by and large fucked. The women are shit. Maybe I should stop wasting time here and go live for six months in a country where things are just less fucked and I have the value I deserve.
The argument against
Did you not create fabulous attraction with the hot indian flake, a 26 year old BRITISH girl? On the same day did the British girl on her way to cheerleading practice not burst into joy on the spot at you opening her? Were there not several more utterly gorgeous, pleasant British girls who were delighted when you opened them?
How many daygame sets have you done?
Not sure.
How many times have you daygamed?
Maybe 15.
So you’ve done about 150 sets?
At most.
So out of those how many fit British girls gave you a great reaction from being opened?
Not sure. I really can’t remember.
Maybe three. Would that seem right? A minimum?
Yeah maybe three.
So you’ve done 150 sets from having pretty much the worst inner game of anyone who ever started the PUA journey and probably one out of every 50 sets produces a hot British woman, who if you played your cards right would go on a date with you.
Er… maybe.
Never mind all the other non-British girls that liked you. Like the lovely 26 year old, fantastic, intelligent Venezuelan girl you went on several dates with. Or the utterly, massively fuckable Chinese girl you had an instant date with.
Er… yes.
So your skills are shit, your inner game is FUCKED and you do this?
Mmm.
Do you REALLY think there are no intelligent, attractive, sorted British women?
I don’t think there are many. I don’t think they are accessible.
You’re probably right. Do you want a girl over 30?
No.
Why?
They’ve got too much baggage, have a domineering attitude to men and can’t relax into it because they are obessed with babies.
Would your personality suit a hyper intelligent, beautiful British woman?
Only if she ultimately submitted to me.
Chances?
Little.
Do you think that in fact some of this existential game crises is due to these factors?
You feel depressed. This is because:
a) Your serotonin is very low due to:
- Complete lack of exercise for three weeks.
- Eating junk food and drinking alcohol.
- Getting high off caffeine earlier.
- It’s dark and winter and shit outside.
- Your time management is appalling. You take a game sabbatical at the worst time of year and try and game when it’s late, dark and snowing.
True.
You deciding British women are dead to you.. Is this because in fact you doubt yourself. You have issues with your self-belief. You know that the older, the more British and the more attractive and intelligent the woman the more her eyes will bore through to your core like a lazer beam, and you ultimately do not yet believe you are worthy?
I don’t know. Maybe. But I kind of feel I am worthy.
Listen child. There are two worthies. There is what you feel in your forebrain and what you feel in your hindbrain. There is mind and heart. All that you have now is half a feeling in your forebrain, and it’s flakey. And you have flutters and flashes in your hindbrain. You think you are worthy but you don’t know it. This is the big problem with someone who’s inner game is fucked early on and where it festers for years. Is not this anti-British women to some extent, but I agree not all, a reflection of your inner game problems.
Yes.
Do you think there are no attractive, intelligent, sorted British women out there, age 26-32, that would like you.
No.
Is it hard to find them?
Yes.
Will you meet them at work?
Highly unlikely.
Will you meet them socially?
Probably not.
Online dating?
Ha.
What’s the best way you can meet a large volume of these women?
Daygame…. But it’s not organic.. it’s not like people are supposed to hook up… to slowly get to know each other through friends or colleagues. It’s banal. Just running up to hundreds of women.
How else are you going to meet them? Bargame is a lie. Your career choice precludes you from meeting many women. Online dating is a joke. Look, do you think from 100 solid approaches you could meet one girl you’d really like and could date for a while.
Yes.
Is that such a terrible ratio? You only ever did ten approaches at a session because you didn’t toughen up and fight through it. You know you could do twenty a day. You could probably do twenty in two hours if the weather was good. Add in instant-dates and you maybe have five hours work.
Right.
So you do this Saturday and Sunday plus Monday to Friday you do ten approaches. That’s fifty a week. So in two weeks you’ve found a girl where you both have a spark for each other and you can have a few dates with.
Er..
Some people go YEARS without having a single date. And let’s not forget your not going to just cycle through dates. You’re not doing this constantly. You actually get this girl to be your girlfriend. Job done. You enjoy each others company for x months. You already know it works. From your 150 approaches you’ve had at least four girls you could have dated and been happy with.
But they are not the British same-culture girls.
At least two of them could have been. Look. You have limited options. You’re 36. You simply don’t work in a bitch-rich industry. You don’t have a cool job. You don’t have a massive social circle. Hit the numbers. Get a girlfriend. ANY girlfriend. Date her and screw her liver out for at least two months. I mean get a girl you think is hot then fuck her twice, twice per week for eight weeks, then see how you feel about yourself, your inner game and other women. Can you remember how it felt to be in a steady relationship?
Yes. Life was different. My mind was different. The air tasted different. Colours were different. It was a different state of being.
So get back like that, get the failure-demon off your back then see how you feel. If you get a couple of months of sex under your belt and keep plugging at the daygame and working on your inner-game then things will be very different by summer.
But should I not try another country? Surely there are other countries where the women are less fucked and where I just wouldn’t have to go on this awful struggle.
But we’ve already been over this. A lot of your negative feelings are feelings of doubt. You’ve opened sets the last day and women just haven’t been interested in talking to you. It’s knocked you.
Your avoiding my point. Regardless of this in Eastern Europe I’d have more value simply from novelty, plus the women ARE fitter and smarter. I’m steak. Massively high-class weird Japanese steak. I live in a land of shit and burgers.
Mmmmm. Point. Ok let’s re-evaluate. Right how’s this for a plan..
Over the last two days you’ve had a girl open you plus a fabulous instant date. For the last two days before xmas do two more sessions of game and go direct. Go out early. Go to big warm shops and look for women who are ambling. Go direct and stop trying to weasel out with indirect-direct.
It can be weasely when I do it.
Yes. You are having problems with the KDM approaches. The indirectness robs you of the masculine intent. Go direct for a while. Do two more sessions then go back and take a week off for xmas. During this week start writing an explanation of your inner mind. Start documenting yourself. Make a plan to work on your inner game. Update your blog. Make a plan for January and February. Work out how much money you have. Your finances are a mess. Invest your savings. Sort this out to take out the guesswork.
Come back and plan on having 8 more weeks off. After this do another contract and try and save up a massive wedge. Do this contract for say six months. After this you can take a year off. In the first month of the contract get your life in order and synchronize all the aspects: work, commute, sleep, eat, shop, relax, exercise, laundry!, social, visits North, game, women, etc. Over the remaining months keep the ball rolling on the game and build up the gaming. Open sets every day and game every weekend. Real game. Don’t waste time. Get up early and get it done.
Before you start your contract you have potentially 4 – 8 weeks of free time. During this time you should go spend a week in one of your theoretical destinations, these places where you dream the women are better and you can have more success. Don’t go whoring in Asia. That stuff can wait. You can do that at any age and it is far less time-sensitive. Take a week’s whoring-holiday in the middle of your contract.
Get 5 days to a week in at this location in January. Then build up long game and get another week back in a month later. So you use two of your 8 weeks abroad. The remaining six weeks you are working on your inner game and daygame in London. Your daygame you mix two aspects. The first is you are gaming young, naïve, impressionable foreign girls to try and get some flange on the go. The second is lunchtime game. You pick five busy lunchtime locations in the city. This targets girls who are more likely to be British and more likely to be career-oriented and professional, like you, and not in stupid bullshit mediarey jobs. You go out and do this 12 to 2pm every day, and you rotate the locations through the different days of the week over five weeks.
During this period you work on your inner game, your banter, your intent. You start documenting and becoming accountable again. You keep records. You experiment with going direct and indirect. You stop avoiding.
Avoiding?
Avoidance is a big problem for you. It creeps into everything you do. You go out late in the day when it’s dark. You don’t do direct-indirect. You open shop-assistants not customers. You sidle up and engage in small talk with no intent or vibe to it. Avoidance. All avoidance. You really need to get your aims and inner game sorted and make this more accountable.
Remember. You are not out of time. You are 36, which is not ideal, but you are not 46. If you experiment for another two years (almost) you’ll only be 38 and if you decide at that point ‘fuck it all’ you can bugger off to Singapore or asia and get yourself a 26 year old wife no problem whatsoever.
You can still date girls age 26. Even British girls. Think what you’re trying to do. Think how long it takes someone to learn to play the guitar. Three years. To learn to box. To play piano. To learn a language. This takes time. You are a different man, completely different from March 5th when this journey began. STICK WITH IT. Now is not the time to quit. I can feel it. Push through in the UK to the summer. Keep grinding away. Stop avoiding. Get hard. You say you are capable of greatness? Yet you avoid. You don’t push yourself. You say you know how to become a strong man, yet you don’t. I saw you wimp out of a half dozen sets today.
Push yourself hard for 8 more weeks. Have fun abroad for 2 of these weeks. Become accountable. Become strong. Manage your serotonin levels. Get in training. Develop your own Lunchtime-Game and Commuter-Game. Push your intent frame. Do things you have not done before. Deliberately make mistakes from pushing too far. Deliberately approach women that intimidate you. Deliberately seek out women you class as ‘too hot’ and approach them. Do another contract and save the cash. Get any attractive girl on the go as a girlfriend and get some (free) sex in your life. Keep daygaming. Build it into your life. Work on it. Treat it as a life-investment. When summer comes start devoting all your time to game. Take a sex holiday in May if you feel like it. Reserve judgement until August when your contract ends. If you truly decide it’s all a bag of shit then fuck off and live abroad. Try living in two different Eastern European cities for six months a piece. Work or don’t work. Or travel constantly around Eastern Europe and game in a big cycle. Or maybe get a contract out in Asia. It’s up to you… but you are in turmoil at the minute because you have taken too many red pills and are learning so much so quickly and trying to learn incredibly difficult things which are totally unnatural to you and your hindbrain is violently rebelling and trying to use every avoidance and weasel trick in the book to avoid change. You have not spent enough time as a well balanced, self-assured, non-bitter, relaxed, enbitched man to yet trust your conclusions about British women.
Yes, society has problems, massive problems. Yes, lots of British women are foul. Yes, it’s less than ideal… but most men who can’t get a fit, nice British women just aren’t meeting many of them. There are gazillions of people in London. You think all nice British girls are in these dense, rich social lives? You think there aren’t thousands of British women right now in their flats lonely and single and without that many friends? How many men are talking to fifty women a week? How many men are talking to ten women a week?
YOU CANNOT YET DRAW JUDGEMENT. YOUR SKILLS ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH, YOU ARE ONLY 1/3 OF THE WAY THERE. YOUR INNER GAME IS NOT RIGHT. YOU NEED TO GET YOURSELF A SCREWABLE GIRL AND SCREW HER FOR A FEW MONTHS AND THEN SCREW ANOTHER AND THEN KEEP APPROACHING AND DRIVE THROUGH, STOP AVOIDING, FIX WHAT IS BROKEN, FOCUS, CHANGE, GO THROUGH THE PAIN, SUFFER, KEEP APPROACHING, GET ACCOUNTABLE AND GIVE IT SIX MORE MONTHS, JUST SIX MORE MONTHS.Í
Phew. Done. Feel ok now. Time for bed.
The Highs: my first instant date
I remember back in the summer-time having my perfect day of daygame. After closing Hot Indian Flake Johnny said “you’ll look back in the future and realise how into you girls like that were and be stunned you didn’t instant date them”.
Too right. It beggars belief. In hindsight I can see the chemistry was electric. I can look back even further and realise that about my sixth set of my first bootcamp, a French girl in OnAndOn was basically wanting to fuck me as long as I didn’t fuck up. And I didn’t even take a Facebook.
With this in mind, and with my new determination to push things through I had my first instant date a Sunday or so ago. I was doing a little bit of game in Selfridges. Nothing major, just mixing in some shopping with chatting to various girls. I see a monstrously cute oriental girl kneeling, looking at makeup bags. She’s so hot my frame starts to crumble: “this girl is too hot for me… she won’t speak English… orientals are the Beta’s choice: I’m trying to be Alpha; talking to her would be a form of avoidance”. She’s smoking. Beautiful, gorgeous chestnut brown hair cascading over her shoulders, sexy mesh-like wooly off-the-shoulder top. Short skirt ,tights, black Ugg boots and a body like a can of condensed sex.
Never mind a ‘DNA tug’, I almost ejaculate into my pants just looking at her. ‘Fuck this. I WANT THAT!’ I decide and walk straight up and like I have every right in the world to do so just ask “How’s your Christmas shopping going?”.
Who says that there are magic openers? Subcommunication is everything. It opens well. She remains kneeling down and looks up at me, smiles and thinks for a second before giving her reply. It’s just…. smooth. We chat for a few seconds: we’re vibing. I’m driving this vibing. I keep it light and airy. I smile, maintain strong eye contact, good body language and good vocal tone (is there anything I do which does not go back to something Johnny Wisdom has taught me? sheesh). I talk with a laugh in my voice and it’s contagious. Even better, she remains kneeling down for quite a while (holding some item she was looking at on the bottom shelf) and I can only imagine her inner cavewoman being reduced to a quivering pile of jelly as she looked up at this massive, powerful man towering over her and blocking out the sun, like Godzilla to her tiny-Tokyo.
Eventually she gets up. We chat a bit more and despite me making a massive cultural faux pas by thinking she’s Japanese when in fact she’s Chinese (which in fact is a compliment as the Japanese are sexier) the rapport is good. I genuinely like her. With her pleasant, thoughtful and happy vibe I’m stunned to learn she is in fact mainland Chinese rather than Taiwanese, as most mainland Chinese girls are utter social retards with poisoned, blackened, twisted hearts.
After five minutes or so I’m thinking “Right. This IS GOING ONTO A DATE”. I tell her we should get a coffee. She thinks for a second and agrees but says she needs to go buy some cup she looked at earlier. I have to follow over to some other area and wait so I just sort of bugger off to the side for a bit and chat to the female shop assistant, quite flirtily, to try and look less like some Beta trailing after her. She returns and I lead the way up and out.
I take her to a place at the back of Oxford street and to my delight it’s packed so we end up squashed near each other on stools round a communal low-table. Note: I’m very careful not to do what Beta-me would have done, which is constantly peck inwards trying to create physical proximity with her in the mistaken Beta-belief that the closer you got the more likely they’d be attracted to me. Instead I sit back with my legs spread really wide, displaying my ball-bulge, back upright and arms square on my knees, head tossed back, snorting and laughing Cavalier-in-a-tavern style. Not always, of course; at appropriate moments I’d lean in to whisper something conspiratorial and kino her.
I’m determined this is not going to turn into another ‘chat’. I remember on Krauser’s blog once he went to a date with a frame of “I’m not going to be this girl’s friend; I’m going to try fuck her even if it makes her hate me”. I decide something similar; I’m not trying to SDL this girl as I already know it isn’t going to happen but I’m going to do stuff that I normally would not do and I’m going to create attraction or blow the set trying.
So we sit in the coffee bar and chat. It’s about an hour twenty in total and none of it grinds; it all feels really pleasurable and natural. Back aeons ago when I started game I always wondered how to actually structure a conversation. My current idea of how to seduce women in conversation is this…
- Vibe
- DHV
- NLP stuff (visual, evocative language, stories, emotional memory-hijacking, etc)
- Get her to qualify/invest
- Don’t forget smile, eye contact, body language and vocal tonality
- Kino (maybe)
- Not fuck up
That’s about it really. Your identity is what it is. You are what you are and so is she. It’ll happen or it won’t. That’s it.
So the conversation was pretty much following the above points, of course with me leading nearly all of it. I just kept things fluffy and vibey. The DHVs were there as part of my identity, and they were grotesquely apocalyptic seeing as I actually speak Mandarin and have done time in China. Here’s an example of the kind of thing I said to her. Notice how I talk about food, which is no accident because as Ross Jeffries rightly points out women like food to pleasure and indulgence and this is a ‘seduction topic’.
Me: Do you miss Chinese food?
HB: Oh yes!…
Me: Do you like Western food? I bet when you arrived you thought it was gross. Yet now you can’t go a day without a sandwich etc. [tease her a bit about how greedy she is. Mimic her little voice pleading with her dad for a sandwich, making her feel like a little girl]
HB: You know what my favourite Chinese food is?
[she’s actually asking me questions; an IOI. And as RJ would say; she’s telling me what she likes, an even bigger IOI]
[she’s from Northern China, it’s winter, I make an educated guess]
Me: Obviously hotpot.
HB: Yes!!! How did you know
[various modesty and eye contact]
Me: You know when I first went to China I’d never had real Chinese food before. The MD of the company took me out for dinner and took me to a hotpot restaurant. I saw the big cauldron of steaming, bubbling soup and all the plates spread out over the table and I just thought… “what on earth?”.. A couple of years later when I was leaving China I organised a farewell visit. I hired the most gaoji (high class) room in the hotpot restaurant. It had a huge table with three hotpots on it.
[DHV. All true]
HB: Three! How many people?
Me: About seventeen or so. I invited my closest friends
HB: I ordered so much… [all of this in Chinese] waiter! Six plates of lettuce, three plates of frozen tofu, pig brains, ducks blood, coriander, mushrooms, three cases of beer, six bottle of rice wine, carrots, quails eggs, live prawns, bring it all, pile it up! [rather than making her want to throw up, as this description would for most whiteys, this actually makes any lovers of genuine Chinese cuisine salivate]
[she’s starting to imagine it. Her eyes roll up a bit.]
Me: Can you imagine it? [sort of get beside her and make her look outwards, sharing the vision]
It’s your farewell dinner. You’re the waiter I asked to take the picture. There’s a huge circular table in front of you. On the table are three massive bubbling hotpots. Every inch of the table is covered with plates of food: green lettuce, red tomatoes, shiny white eggs, pink pork and beef, ice-cold bottle of beer, bowls of spicy noodles. There’s steam in the room from the hotpots; a slight mist. Above the table is a chandelier casting a glow over the room. Around the table are gathered seventeen or so friends, all linking arms and holding each other. Look at them, all looking at you. All beaming in friendship. And right in the middle, sitting down, smiling and looking at you is me, raising a glass to you. [look at her, slight pause] Snap! The picture is taken. That is my last dinner in China.
[her eyes spazz]
**********************************
This is pretty much what I said and re-reading it I’m impressed by what a clever bastard I’ve become. The DHVs are all natural and not forced. I talk about food to get her turned on, I use colourful and visual language to put her in an emotional state. I’m kinoing her tiny bits at appropriate points to anchor the feelings and the bit at the end where I make her frame the mental snapshot; I’m kind of amazed I thought that up.
The most awesome thing is that none of this is fake. None of the DHVs are fictional. Talking in colourful, evocative, visual language is incredibly natural to me as, hey, I am a very visual person. Read this blog. It’s not great literature but you’ll get an idea of how I can paint a picture with words. Like a child smearing alphabet spaghetti onto a freshly emulsioned dining-room wall.
Just talking like this in general is fake though!
Nope. It’s me. This is my identity. I have zero interest whatsoever to sit with an attractive woman and talk about work or TV. I love talking about food. I love talking about memories or situations I’ve been in which were important to me or visually appealing. I love talking to women and triggering their emotions, generating an emotional reaction in them. I struggle to conceive of what else you’d want to talk about with them. It’s all me. It’s real.
Here’s some more dialogue:
Me: I remember the first night I was in China. We’d checked into this hostel in an old style hotel. It was art-deco, 1920’s style. We were exhausted. We were walking along the Bund and I wanted to treat my friends. There’s a bar on the rooftop above the Armani shop? Called ‘New Heights’. Do you know it? Well I took everyone for drinks to that bar. It has a roof terrace. We’re sitting there at this wooden table. There’s gravel on the balcony and candles on each table. The wall into the restaurant is glass so we can see the tables inside and the piano player. The air is warm and slightly humid. Now look outwards. Stretched from far left, right across in front of us to the right is the river. It’s huge! And on the other side of the river is PuDong with the massive sky scrapers with the huge illuminated billboards on them. And the wooden tables have little tea-light candles on them which flicker and cast an orange light on our faces.
HB:Yes! Yes!
Me:Yet there’s a slight fog in the air, so they’re kind of half shrouded in mist. And there’s boats on the river with lights on them. And the sounds. The sounds… From one side we have the muffled sound of the piano player, on the other we have the sounds of Shanghai; the traffic, the music, the beggars shouting, the street-sellers, the noise!
HB: I know this sound!
The whole conversation was not just endless NLP stories like above. I was determined that I was going to make this girl qualify to me and invest in me. I’m absolutely convinced this is a cornerstone of building attraction with a woman. Isn’t this A2 in Mystery Method?
Basically I just got her talking, as for a woman actually talking to a man and stringing multiple sentences together is a form of qualification. Think back to all the Beta-approaches you did and how much of the talking you did. All of it I bet. On top of this I did some beautiful stuff. I find out this girl wants to work in HR, in particular Compensation and Benefits. Naturally I tell her I have a degree in this (true) and used to work in it(true). She asks me for whom and the DHVs just fall from my lips. She asks me which kind of HR and I say Compensation and Benefits. Do you see how natural and apocolapytic these DHVs were? This girl is currently applying for jobs. Beautiful.
Me: God I did a lot of interviews in China. About a hundred or more. You must have done a lot as part of your training?
HB: Er… no. In fact I’ve never had an interview
[how much authority do I have in her world?]
[this situation is BEAUTIFUL… just wait for it]
Me: Ok. Let’s imagine I’m interviewing you then.
[I then look deep in her eyes. I look really formal. I pretend to shuffle some papers]
Me: So…. HB…. Tell me, what area of HR are you looking to work in?
HB: [looks at me and really tries to answer]
Me: Mmmm. But why? You’ve not really told me
HB: [Panics, tries to sell herself more, which is of course qualifying herself to me. It’s only a pretend interview but it counts]
Me: Well ok. Now I have a lot of candidates here. A lot of candidates with good degrees. Some better than yours. What is it in particular about you that makes you different?
[Notice how I don’t pander to her or start flattering her like some Beta. This last statement is great. She really focuses hard and thinks deeply, looks into her soul and really tries to qualify herself]
I can feel the dynamic changing as she does this, and I love it. I tell her her answers were ‘ok’ but she needs more interview practice (I wonder who can give it to her?). I then decide I’m going to do RJ’s “Two brothers” story thing on her. This is as old as the hills and I suppose is an EV (Elicit Values) routine. I do this shamelessly. I just say point blank “I know a little game, a little test, shall we do it?”.
[this is a cut down version]
Me: You are a princess. You live in a big pink castle. It looks like Buckingham Palace. It’s in a green meadow filled with Buttercups… blah blah…You have a little pet dog, a pug
HB: No…. a Westie, I love them
[she’s investing in the fantasy]
Me: You like being a princess and your daddy loves you but one day he tells you that you’r spoilt
HB: No!
[teasing. Keeping it light]
Me: Yep. He tells you it’s time for you to stop being a little princess and to become a woman. You need a man to make you a woman.
[I literally say this to her while looking into her eyes. They spazz a bit.]
Me: Your dad hires a matchmaker. Blah blah. They have many princes on their files so she needs to ask some questions to find the best one for you…
Me: Her first question is if there were two identical princes, brothers, but one was a beautiful piano player [kind of gesturing shamelessly at myself] and the other was a beautiful dancer and could move well, which would you prefer
HB: [immediately] Piano
[Knows exactly what she likes. This in itself is attractive]
Me: Blah blah identical blah blah one is rich but a little distant. A pleasant guy but a little distant. The other is poor but makes you laugh.
HB: the funny prince! Anyway I have my own castle already
[I make her laugh for a second about her answer while gesturing at myself]
Me: Blah blah identical blah blah. One prince can really understand your emotions and what you are feeling. He is very sensitive and more feminine. He is a kind guy but in your heart you know you can probably manipulate him. The other guy is different. He knows what you feel but he doesn’t go there. He is strong. He cares but you can’t pull him in and you know in your heart you can’t manipulate him. [shamelessly RJ style gesturing at myself]
[her eyes go really soft]
HB: I …. I like a MAN. I am…. We say…. A “little woman”.
[this is Bhodisatta-crack. I’m loving it]
Me: I believe relationships work better like this. Male and female energy is different. Men have bursts of intense energy. They have a different focus
HB: Yes…
[Now I do something evil. I know her next word will be “but” so I say it at the same time as her then catch her eye as we both pause. It gives the effect we are both going to say the same thing at exactly the same time. I’m pretty sure what her sentiment is so I just go ahead and say it]
Me: …but a woman…. Flows…. Like a river… yes?
[she looks at my like I’m psychic]
HB: yes… yes…. And never
Me: ..never stops.
HB: yes.
************************************
This is, I believe, ladies and gentleman, called Deep Rapport. Give me a big hand! Our first appearance of Mr Deep Rapport in my game journey. It felt good. It felt natural. I want it again. At one point, I can’t remember quite when, the girl looks at me and says “Oh god, you really do know how to talk to women don’t you”. AWESOME. I can’t (actually I can but..) believe a woman has said this to me. Me! The ex-chode!
I’m struggling here. Part of me wants to write “EV routines are very powerful and will be a key part of my toolset” but this does not really ring true. It’s more like I’ve discovered a piece of who I really am with women, a lost piece of a jigsaw, and now this piece is back in place. The same with the ‘evocative language’ descriptive speech and storytelling. These do not feel like learned behaviour, but more like long-lost and obfuscated pieces of myself coming back into the light. I think I really am becoming ‘that guy’.
The other part of ‘that guy’ is being at-one with desire, and I have absolutely zero problems about this with this girl. I maintain eye contact. I think about fucking her. I think about fucking ex-girlfriends. I think of my beautiful, wonderful Chinese-ex girlfriend and what the touch of my fingers on her neck could do to her. I think of another ex-girlfriend who used to weep with pleasure when I fucked her. I think of my small, lithe Taiwanese ex-girlfriend writhing on the bed as I hold her little legs open and put my tongue into her. I think of how her moans sounded . I take all these thoughts and project them from my MIND BEAM, through my eyes and into her. She’s giving me funny looks. Now and again I just talk to her and ‘triangle gaze’ and just look at her lips. I can feel the charge in the air.
This is not an SDL. I don’t fuck it up by trying. I suggest we go. We share a tube part of the way. I’ve long ago taken her Facebook and number. We agree to have hotpot in the New Year. I sincerely hope that we do.
Starting to vibe.
One of the aims of my sabbatical is to get over the painful part of daygame approaching so that approaching women can become a pleasant, internalised part of my life and when I go back to the daily grind I can rack up approaches as part of my normal life (on the tube, walking to the shops, etc).
There’s more to this than just racking up huge numbers of approaches.
Non-state
“Being in state” is a crutch. If I’m planning to approach as part of my normal life, when I’m on the way home from work, a bit tired, unfocused, then what use is training myself to have to get all pumped up into an artificial state. It does work, but it’s not what I’m after. Walking around doing my daygame I deliberately try and avoid all little tricks I’ve developed to raise my adrenaline and enter that state of altered consciousness which a lot of daygamers use. Be normal. I just want to act normal. I want my state to be normal.
Full committment
The best way to chat to attractive women in public places with ease is to chat to everyone and be a chatty, conversational person and internalize this behaviour. You actually have to be friendly. Being friendly is not in some PUA’s reality but it is in mine. I’ve accepted that I actually am an extremely friendly person and I really like people. Some people. I have a genuine interest in people and what they’re doing and what their stories are. Over the last week I’ve started to try and slough off some of the bitterness and negativity I’ve had for years and just try and be a positive, friendly person and chat to loads of people.
After a few days of wandering round London chatting to randoms and being friendly I can see what happened to secretpua. I mean, what the fuck is going on? Is it the 9 to 5 that kills people’s spirit? Or are the British or Londoners just missing the point. At various points I’ve felt “I can’t believe you can do this for free”. I mean, I love talking to people. Everywhere. And when you do it you start to emit a positive energy and good things happen.
There’s definitely a negative contagious social effect at work in London. People just don’t speak to each other anymore. And the amazing thing is you don’t have to do the same, and if you do start being Mr Chatty then your day will be ten times more rewarding!
Going back to being friendly I would say I value friendliness and I think friendliness is a very attractive quality. Supplicating or needy friendliness is but warmth, interest, concern and caring are. A friend of mine, Suave, is heading back to Brazil soon after having stratospheric success with game in his time in London. Suave is liked by most who meet him and he has great success with game. He’s a very likeable, friendly guy and I think this has contributed towards his progress. It’s not rocket-science is it? Likeable friendly people = more attractive. Stone faced frame-controlling “I’m too alpha to smile” = not attractive.
I’m reminded at this point of something brilliant Ross Jeffries said. He was talking about being friendly and empathasing with women but without becoming an emotional tampon. He said:
“Understand where someone is, show that you understand where they are, show concern and understanding but do not go there yourself”.
As far as I’m concerned this is genius. You can write a book about that. I believe this is what powerful friendliness is. If you can be friendly and open and understand where other people are without being sucked in there yourself then this is incredibly powerful. Too many people fall either side of this marker; they’re either too stand-offish or they’re too needy.
Volume
In building my Mr Chatty persona I think it’s important to approach a lot but not too much. I’m trying to model what my behaviour will be when I go back to normal life but on the other hand I need to make the best use of my time. I currently believe the solution is a compromise. What I’m not doing is machine-gun approaching everything that moves and doing twenty sets an hour. What I am doing is sauntering about, relaxing and chatting to people when the opportunity arises or when I feel like it.
Quality
I’m not trying to close every girl I talk to. That’s the behaviour of someone is not selective. Only if I create a vibe and some energy and feel an attraction will I close.
A typical afternoon
Bearing all this in mind this was how a typical afternoon of mine went down last week.
Left the house around four. Stopped in at the little camping/army surplus shop next to mine. Started chatting to the owner. Helped a customer decide on which coat to buy. Ended up chatting to the owner for half an hour. When I left he shook my hand.
Went to the tube station, had a laugh with the tube-guy about ‘Jubilee Line Roulette’.
Had a sandwich and coffee in the Starbucks at Bond St. 40-something divorcee in willies out xmas shopping asks to sit next to me (it’s tiny and there are almost no tables) and I instantly start talking to her. End up chatting to her for about 45 minutes. It’s so relaxed and natural. It’s great to see her slowly shift from middle-aged bedraggled mum into sensuous woman.
After that it gets a little hard to remember how many people I talked to. I ambled around two big department stores and randomly talked to people, asking how their xmas shopping was going. As long as you’re congruent then people just run with it and will engage you in conversation like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Their was the tiny Japanese girl who I demonstrated chopping-boards to. There was a stuck-up American Asian girl who took a compliment stone-faced and walked off. There was the cute British indian girl who four minutes later smiled her head off at the same compliment. There was the redhead on the escalator who told me about her shopping stresses. There was the waitress in Ed’s diner who, after I talked to her so naturally and so friendly and perked her up could not keep away from me or from looking at me. Then there was the girl who opened me on the escalator.
Yep. I got opened. I was just emitting a vibe, a girl picked up on it and she catches my eye, smiles, pulls our her iPod headphones and opens me. This has never happened to me before. I guess I’ve never walked round being chatty and friendly and talking to all and sundry before. Also I’ve never bought a Sven Hassel book before and that day I had my first, SS General, in my bag. Perhaps the man-aura was emitting out of my man-bag?
Anyway, this girl was blonde, tanned, had a big beaming white smile, tall, strapping and curvy as hell with an ass like a pair of flesh-footballs shrink-wrapped in denim. A beauty and fitness consultant and from Eastern Europe. Instantly there’s attraction in the air. She gives me multiple consecutive IOIs and we even share a tube in the same direction for a few stops. I take her card and tell her I’m taking her out sometime. It isn’t till I’m walking off and hear the door buzzers on the tube go that I realise I’ve made a mistake. This girl was emitting sexual energy like a force-field and was deeply into me. I should have taken her off the tube and to the pub and pushed things forward. Who knows what could have happened? A SDL? Instead I took the crumb of validation and went off happy with it, when instead I should have raised my crumb and gone for a cake.
I follow up with text game and nothing happens. Bugger.
Game sabbatical begins…
It’s been two weeks since I finished work. My game sabbatical hasn’t started with quite the explosive bang I hoped for… more of a gradual warm up. First off I’ve had to do lots of other crap which distracted me: moving flat, buying furniture, unexpected visits up north, Christmas shopping, etc, and I’m not a person who responds well to multi-tasking. This ‘bitty’ nature of my free time so far has made it easy for me to skive and waste time when I could be out there in the cold and rain chasing women. On top of that my inner weasel starting squealing softly and asking me if I thought in fact the whole thing was maybe a waste of time?
Some of this has been the shock of the unknown. It’s all fine to dream for months of having a sabbatical but when it arrives it can be quite intimidating: like retirement. I’m glad to say, however, that I’ve gritted my teeth and am gradually getting the ball rolling and facing the reality of what I’m doing; plus more importantly, starting to enjoy it. I now feel I’m at breaking point.
So I haven’t really been doing a large number of sets, maybe five or so at a time. Sets are quite hard to find in this weather as most hot, single women simply don’t go out in the cold and dark unless they can take along a friend to make it more bearable for them. I’m generally doing around five sets in an hour or so.
I’m trying to look for women that I genuinely could imagine myself with. Or at least fucking. Listen to Assanova. Go for women for whom you are their type. Go for women who look like girls who generally like you. Especially if you’re not at some mind-bending PUA level yet.
I’m still learning a lot. Every time I go out I learn something new. Literally. I hope this never ends. I love it. It’s such a thrill when the little lightbulb in my head goes ‘pop’. It’s truly a privilege to be able to learn these dark secrets of interpersonal communication.
Vibing
I have felt for a long time that I was unable to vibe. I can hook and talk with women but not vibe. I didn’t really understand what it was. This has changed of late and I find myself able to vibe and joke with various women. This has been great progress for me considering how monstrously bitter I used to be. What I’m really enjoying over the last few days is just wandering around feeling relaxed and jolly and randomly chatting to all sorts of people. This is a far cry for wandering round Covent Garden, clutching my man-bag and with an ashen, anxiety-stricken face, trying to psyche myself up enough to approach.
I’m finding shop-girls are great practice for vibing. For a start you have an excuse to talk to them and secondly they are generally bored sensless and looking for some fun. Ontop of that a lot of them are young and sexy with a good female energy. Actually, here’s the suprising thing; you don’t need to just talk to females to practice vibing. You can vibe with anybody. I never realised before the crossover but now I do it’s quite a revelation. Brilliant. Just vibe with everyone you come into contact with and hey presto…. you get good at vibing!
I realise that having some time off and just wandering around, relaxing and being friendly and chatty to everyone is in fact quite a life-changing experience. Did anyone read secretpua’s blog? It’s disappeared now but his end conclusion, before he stopped blogging, was something like:
I can’t emphasize enough how much just walking round, talking people and being positive has changed my life.
(If anyone has an archive or a link to this blog let me know)
We live in an increasingly closed-off society, especially in London. There’s simply no reason people couldn’t be more chatty with each other. I’ve literally talked to a dozen people today that previously I wouldn’t have and the exchanges have really enriched me and made my day more worthwhile.
Intent crisis
In the last couple of sessions I’ve done I’ve really had a revelation. You see what I’ve done is become aware that a lot of the daygame I’ve done so far has not been with through follow-through, or you could say with full intent. I’ve been approaching for the sake of approaching, and maybe getting a number. What I’ve not been doing is approaching with the intent to drive things forward, build stomach-tingling attraction there and then, commit a girl, take her for an instant date there and then and then push forward, push forward until I close. In other words it is possible to go out and do daygame and still be in avoidance. It is possible to ask for a girl’s number and still be in avoidance. Yes, you’ll go with the flow if it carries you along to a date, a close, whatever, but you are being pulled along and still haven’t drilled down and become totally at ease with driving this yourself. This does happen all the time: we’ve all heard of those guys who get a SNL on bootcamp, or do some sort of game for a few weeks and find a girlfriend. Do they need to go through months of soul-chilling introspection? Unlikely. But have they ever really sorted out their intent?
Approaching and not following through in effect provides crumbs of validation but you never get the cake. You know you can approach, flatter a girl and get that tiny speck of feeling good and confident about yourself. Yes, I’m the man. This situation is getting fixed. Is it? Nope. You’re in stasis. If you are not moving forward you are standing still.
Why have I been in avoidance? Ultimately I think it boils down to EDM (Emotional Defense Mechanism). I just don’t want to be rejected and I don’t want to find out that no women want me. Realizing that EDM still affects me is a big leap. This needs to be worked on.
Intent shines through. I think I’ve had some success already with daygame but mainly from emitting a certain type of dichotomous confident/vulnerable vibe that some beginners get. That’s started to fade now and I seem to be having less success. I’ve heard trainers say that this is a recognized phenomena, that when you start to get better you lose the nerves and girls get suspicious that you are practised. I’d go further and say that it’s not solely this suspicion which is the stopping point, but the fact that you seem to have a kind of ‘half confidence’ and ‘half intent’, or more succinctly you are not fully congruous, and women have the in-built evolutionary capacity to smell this and move away from it. Cavemen who are not completely congruous with all their actions do not survive.
I’m in a bit of an ‘intent phase’ now. When strolling around looking for women to approach I’m trying to become at one with my intent. What am I really approaching her for? To chat? To be friends? To practise approaching? No. I am approaching her because I want to fuck her. I want to generate a spark and drive forward. Assanova said in Deeper Than Game “Finish what you start”. This is so true and very sound advice. Too many people in Game never get their intent sorted. I’ve winged guys in bars that just approach endlessly, they go in, get a number, bail. Approach, approach approach. How many girls do they fuck? Not many. As Assanova says, if you’re approaching hundreds of women for a lay then…. Why?
Frame-crash
I’m not there yet, though. I’ve had a few frame-crashes recently. I’ve seen a super-hot girl, started the ‘approach jog’ then sort of petered out as my frame goes ‘poof’ and evaporates and a wave of non-worthiness swamps me. Consequently my pool of targets of late has been a really rather slim slice of women that are hot enough for me to feel a strong enough DNA-tug (also known as lust) to put the effort into the chase yet are not so hot I feel they are too hot for me.
At this point I always imagine Johnny Wisdom’s disembodied voice speaking to me:
“My frame crashes when I approach super-hot women”.
“What’s the best way to train yourself to approach super-hot women?”.
“Oh. Right. Ah..”.
What happened to the last post?
The more astute blog followers will have noticed that the last post mysteriously disappeared for a few weeks. It seems that at around the same time Krauser got busted by three of his victims girls that one of the girls whose profile I poked fun at actually found the post. She really wasn’t that chuffed. Check out the comments. She leaves me eleven increasingly hysterical comments. What the stupid cow fails to realise is:
- Just because the comments don’t instantly appear doesn’t mean I’m sitting their behind the scenes deleting them. They go into an approvals queue and it so happened that the day she had hysterics I didn’t check my mails or my blog.
- Her profile is PUBLIC DOMAIN. Seriously. All you have to do is take her username, go to google, type it in and her profile is the number one hit. You only get the one photo but you actually get way more of the profile than I even listed here.
So a few weeks ago I check my mails and see that The Admins of the dating site have deleted my profile. I’m pretty pissed off as I have a load of awesome material saved in my dialogues that I want to put on this blog. Gone. I wonder what’s happened and check my wordpress account and see the elven comments waiting there.
Have a read of them. They’re really funny. Especially the one where apparently she’s reporting me to the police. I can imagine her local CID department have their best men on it. This really is the crime of the century. They’re probably busy tracking me down as I speak. “But excuse me maam, you can read all these profiles on the site without even being a member”.. “but you ave not realised, zis breaches ze terms and conditions!”… “jesus! she’s right. Call Wonton, we need to get the team together”.
I made the post private with the intention of editing it. It has’t taken me this long, the delay has nothing to do with the issue, but in fact I’ve just been really, really busy and not got round to it. I’ve just edited it and have removed HB5’s photos and her profile. I’m not obliged to do this: it’s public domain, but I really don’t want anyone to be losing sleep over what is meant as a bit of fun.
Shame about the lost dialogues, there was some great stuff in there. If I can be arsed I’ll try and reconstruct it.
Using the email address on her comments I send her this mail but get no response:
Hello HB5
Bhodisatta's Blog. 