Every now and then when I've been hanging around the useless sacks of shit too much, I start to realise that I've begun to slip-slide into the Beta and accommodating mindset once more. It's damn aggravating when I notice it. It's an indication that I'm too much around the fucktards, and shows quite starkly that the bloody shit-awful conditioning of fifty-odd years still has it's grip on me.
It's tempting to swear about my mother and grandmother lying to me all my life. And especially my ex-wife bitchifying my mindset.
These are actually the times when I have to grab myself by the scruff of the neck and give myself a shaking. Times to take responsibility for myself. Times to step away from the crap for a while and simply go semi-ghost.
Now the PUAs would say that it's a good thing, it gets teh wimminz curious about you once you get back into circulation. "Why'd you disappear? Why'd you go? What'd you do?" And you can come out with a mysterious and aloof smile and suavely change the subject.
Wrong mindset. Catering to the pussy once more.
It's like going to get some tattoos because modern slutty girls love-love-love guys with tattoos. Because that's a signal of the criminal class, gets her wet, blah blah blah blah. Again, wrong mindset. Catering to the pussy.
If you're going to get tats, do it for your own good reasons - something meaningful to you personally. So you can pick up some entitled slut who hasn't a clue why she gets superficially wet at the thought of a man with tats? Wrong reason.
Tongue piercing, to show that you will happily be a Beta who will mutilate and debase himself for her oral pleasure? Wrong reason.
Selfies of you doing adventure-type stuff, that you put up somewhere to impress her? Wrong reason.
We men, we do things far too much for the wrong reasons in life. We need to do them for the right reasons: for our own fun and profit, and fuck y'all don't bother asking why wherefore whatever or any-fucking-thing. Noneayabizniz.
For myself, getting away from the bullshit lets me concentrate on myself, my health, and what really matters in life. Myself. Nobody else.
Because no-fucking-way am I here to cater to your shitty and selfish desires and whims. I'm'a concentrate on my own. Your entitled cunt won't be around for the rest of my life, while my body'n'soul sure as hell will be.
The last time I walked away I had great improvements in my health and strength. I got to a new plateau: 500kg leg press with the full range of motion. (That means that at the bottom of the movement my legs were at a 90-degree angle. Think full-squat and you'll get the picture. Which is the next thing to improve.)
Time to concentrate selfishly on me once more. Fuck y'all, piss off and leave me alone, people. I'll come back when I'm good an' ready.
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