A hot girl, “Heather,” moves in nearby: I chat with her because she’s hot (obviously), and I believe in fire & maneuver, or the practice of continually being in the game… a theme consistent with A lot of guys are pussies, but that means opportunity for the few who aren’t. People who succeed usually succeed because they are consistently doing things right, every day, and building towards their goals.
Heather seems receptive. I run into her a few times, and find out that she’s broken up with her boyfriend and moved out of his place, which is off in a boring suburb. She doesn’t know anyone… somewhere in the beginning she mentions that she finds guys easier to get along with. Mentally, I infer that, like a lot of hot girls, her real social skills are poor, and, because she is hot, she finds it easy to attract guys who want to f**k her, but who are too pussy to make a move, into her outer orbit, where those guys offer her attention but don’t have a real shot at f**king her.
We do some things together with my friends, and then I pull a full r^tard move by taking Heather to a rave. The rave was fun, but I wasn’t fully into it, and felt a little like I’d gone to too many parties, run through too many women, and completed the player cycle. In retrospect I can see that I was acting out of instinct rather than acting in alignment with my current life goals. Guys who get good at anything learn how to “chunk” cognitive units. We learn small conceptual units and then combine them into larger chunks until they show up on the level of unconsciously or semi-consciously deployable “skills.” Reading is like this: as a child, it takes time to learn how to sound out words, learn their definitions, etc. Over time, and with practice, reading happens at a predominantly subconscious level. Talk to stupid people and you’ll notice that most of them struggle to read fluently (which is part of the reason YouTube and TikTok are so popular: they appeal to the average and below-average people who walk among us). For me, being in the game is now an exercise that happens at a fairly high level, and most girls have little novel to say. I’ve become “fluent” in the game, with many large cognitive chunks ready to go.
Although I wasn’t fully into the rave, I was interested in Heather, the entire reason for dealing with a mass of idiots and colors. Some of the idiots had nice tits on display, I should note. I made out with Heather, played with her tits and ass, etc. She was on her period, which was for the best, because she didn’t want to f**k due to her period. We talked some at the rave in a quiet corner, and she told me about how she finds girls super attractive. I proceeded to rustle up some hot girls for Heather to make out with, but she doesn’t merely lack game, she displays some form of anti-game. Hot girls need little game. I hear her asking girls who are rolling their faces off and shit, “where are you from”, and “what do you do for work?” I’m like, “Heather, ask if she wants to make out, you’re at a RAVE, not a Salesforce conference.” She won’t do it, she seemingly can’t do it. I quickly step in and ask some of the girls to make out with her… they’re interested but it doesn’t happen, because Heather is acting unsure and tentative, and the girls lose interest over time. They stick around far longer than they would for an inept man, however. Heather’s actions are consistent with xbtusd’s What Happens When Women Date Women.
Heather has lots of nice things to say about me, and seems impressed that I know how to make the evening happen. She’s incapable of meeting new people at the rave, but I’m not, so we meet some people, apart from the hot girls. For me, there are fun aspects to the night, but the feeling of “this again?” predominates. Heather doesn’t really do shit tests, but I see many of her queries from miles away and have clever answers queued (I’m trying to remember examples right now and wish I’d written some down in real time). She seems very impressed with me, not understanding that what seems impressive to her is simply experience and practice to me. I’ve had the conversations I’m having with her thousands of times before, and I’m cranking the machine, which she perceives as spontaneous fun (most guys can’t do this, because they haven’t practiced or gone beyond the bullshit media narrative). Behind a woman’s good time is usually a guy making things happen for her. I do explain consensual non-monogamy to Heather, which she thinks sounds “dope”… she talks this way, at times..
Next day, I told my girlfriend that I’d kinda made out with Heather at the rave, and this caused a bunch of problems… the only thing worse than being in a relationship is being alone (sometimes). Naturally, because I can’t take responsibility for my own stupid decisions, it’s really my girlfriend’s fault that I was there, for reasons I don’t want to get into here. I see less of Heather after this cause I stop inviting her to do stuff… as soon as I stop making things happen, they stop happening. Women rarely make things happen for themselves, a thing that many men must learn the hard way. Part of me is tempted to pursue Heather, but that would create a lot of problems I don’t need, and are inconsistent with my longer-term goals. Maybe I am a drama addict. Everyday life is boring, without sufficient pussy chasing in it, but most guys seem to lead more normal everyday lives. Maybe there is something wrong with me?
That’s the context, now the most recent part of the story. A few days ago, Heather calls me. I don’t pick up at first and debate whether I should. What’s she going to want? Probably not anything good… does she want me to show up to something, to help bolster her social status? She’d previously said that she had depended on her ex-boyfriend’s social life to have anything to do, and that her “friends” were mainly his friends.
She could be calling about any number of things, but I’m not optimistic. I’ve barely heard from her in months, though I tease her whenever I see her. I’ve intentionally avoided pursuing a couple other hot girls, because I’m trying to change… change away from my addiction to tight pussy and towards… whatever normal people do. Normal people’s lives seem filled with tedium to me, as they cheer at sports games like monkeys yelling at mirrors. TikTok’s hold on people seems inane to me until I talk with normal people, and then I understand.
The smart thing to do is ignore Heather’s call, because there’s no short-term way I’m going to f**k her. It’s like how the smart thing is often to ignore the girl’s text, and then a few days later, propose a time and place to meet as if her text didn’t happen. But curiosity gets the best of me and I don’t ignore the call. It does feel good to get attention from this hot girl and my curiosity gets the better of me. Heather has enough social awareness to ask how I am, but in under a minute she reveals the real reason for her call… drum roll please… she wants to know if I have molly.
Why? She’s back with her ex and they want to do coke or molly. On the phone, I’m nearly laughing at her audacity… normal people (not hot girls) would feel some shame, calling someone who they have never done anything for with their hand out asking for favors. Normal people have a sense of proportionality to a relationship, a sense of reciprocity. We all have a rough sense of where we “stand” with various friends… we ask ourselves, “what is reasonable for me to ask them to do, and for them to ask me?” I wouldn’t ask a distant acquaintance, “Will you give me $5,000, because I can’t pay rent?” Hot girls live in a world in which men exist to do things for them, so they’re often willing to call up any guy they’ve ever interacted with and ask for disproportionate things.
Observing everyday life and the rise of OnlyFans, makes me think that hot girls are right, and that there are lots of beta simps who will in fact jump at the chance to do all sorts of shit for them. Even I did that sort of thing, when I was younger, and dumber. I did some simping in high school and early college, because I was stupid, and, worse, neither game nor “THE GAME” existed then, and I lacked good male role models to tell me “Stop f**kin’ simpin.” If you see a guy simpin, quietly remind him: “Pimpin’, not simpin.'” Most guys prefer to simp, sadly.
Because of that early brush with simping, I have a strong aversion to it… while it’s trendy in the U.S. for college students to say communism or socialism are cool, you don’t see that in places where people have experience with socialism in living memory, like Eastern Europe or parts of Asia. American college students have never had to pay taxes, or lived in a world without the iPhone, or experienced weak customer support, and yet imagine “socialism” to be a viable means of organizing a country. In the U.S., high-cost, high-tax states like New York and California are losing population to low tax states like Florida, Georgia, and Texas… what might we infer from that?
Getting back to the story, Heather asked if I had any MDMA, and I implied “no,” we talked for a bit, then she had to go. She’s oddly transparent in her efforts to use me, as if she doesn’t comprehend what she’s doing. The most powerful “privilege” is hot girl privilege, and yet we hear almost nothing about it. Almost like the media class walks in lockstep, a zombie goblin army ignoring reality while promoting a bullshit narrative. At least men can go work on electric cars, nuclear energy (fission and fusion), batteries, and other things that really matter.
I saw a sub-reddit called “Friendzonecucks”, a group of men who have somehow eroticized their failure and patheticness. I only looked at it once, but I didn’t see any posts about quitting sugar, maxing out their bench and squat, etc., or doing any of the useful things that’ll help guys get laid instead of being pathetic.
Don’t do things for people who you don’t think would do the same for you. Heather won’t do shit for me. Most girls are also f**king worthless and never have access to valuable resources like drugs. Maybe I should just go around asking girls for shit and seeing if they give it to me… but girls don’t have anything of value, other than pussy, which is the one thing you can’t ask them for and expect to get.
Overall, I’m a r^tard, because I know how to f**k hot girls and have elected to deliberately switch to a different life… but I keep drifting… and drifting is bad. Not only bad, but counterproductive.
Girls are amazing, entitled, privileged, and best of all, unaware. The media class is composed entirely of unattractive women, so their failure to understand the experience of the median woman in her teens and 20s makes sense. But hot girls have few opportunities to understand their own situation, until their own situation changes. Many become embittered with reality, like the guy in THE MATRIX who wants to be plugged back in, or the guy at the end of THE TRUMAN SHOW who realizes his whole world is bullshit. Or me, if I had to live in Afghanistan as an opium farmer or pimp for aid workers or Madrassah operator in the pocket of the Saudis, which seem to be the only three occupations there. Then I’d know what a certain kind of reality is like, but I prefer the fantasy of a functional country and world.
I’ve made Heather sound worse than she is, by emphasizing her bad parts… she has great feminine energy. She’s very pretty. She’s probably slept with few men (not the sort of thing I worry about, though a lot of guys are hung up about such matters), but thinks sex is important. She wants to have a family before she’s 30. If I were single, I’d have tried to slot her into the girlfriend slot. But she’s still an attractive woman, which, in the modern world, means she’s wildly entitled without realizing it, which makes her entitlement funnier. I’ve read essays from formerly hot chicks… one wrote a whole f**king book about it, My Formerly Hot Life: Dispatches from Just the Other Side of Young, that I haven’t read, but hot women’s testimony speaks to their privilege, and their lack of awareness.
Xbtusd has speculated that hot chicks literally can’t understand what the real world is like, because they’re buffered, if not outright cosseted, by hotness. I call that hot-chick privilege, he calls it hot chick delusion. One of the only hot chicks I’ve ever seen do anything interesting with her hot-girl privilege is the sex worker Aella, who writes stuff like The Identity of Tits, and my mad scramble for sex, and how “Me too” is bullshit. Her Twitter is genuinely interesting and non-conformist. She’s a striver, not a whiner… the ability of hot chicks to whine about men not making things right for them is also real. Her perspective of the world is much less skewed than the average hot chick’s.
Girls are just biological machines, executing their programming, just as men are biological machines, executing our programming… understanding that fully cured any resentment of hot chicks that I might have felt when I was younger. Once, I imagined that, if I had sufficient sexual market power, I would somehow get revenge on all the girls who I thought had been mean to me by being mean to other girls in turn. But, by the time I might have been in position to do so, I didn’t want to, because I understood that girls are doing what their internal desires tell them to do, and they are doing who their internal desires tell them to do. I can become the guy who girls want to do, and enjoy that power, or not… I became him, and in the process I learned wisdom (which is not the same as weakness) and understanding. They can’t help their preference for cool, dominant guys, any more than I can help my preference for younger, hotter, tighter. I can only try to make the world a better place, by helping people find their way; by being the kind of person who isn’t eating sugar or seed oils, by being the person who chooses to bench press and plank instead of watching TV, by being the person who makes things happen, instead of letting things happen to him.