Pickup artist vs. Pickup artist….what do you do when you’re surrounded?

18 Nov

Having now had more sexual explorations than I would care to admit, my work has blessed me with a sense of endless knowledge – like I know the next step and if I played the game, I could very well get what I wanted in the end.

If you are a pickup artist using PUA techniques with another pickup artist, you’re fucked. They know your game.

They can see the bullshit – the predetermined tactics…the game plan…the white lies…all coming from a mile away.

I had lunch with my friend Genevieve today, and she tried to tell me that I was codependent. She asked me why I put myself through “hell” for these sorts of situations.

I don’t know why….I rarely find men intellectually interesting AND attractive at the same time, so when I do it’s like…real gold in a pyrite world.

I’ve recognized though…overhaul is necessary. Overhaul is in order. Change is needed.
Normally I’m a very uhm…logistical person…I like my facts on paper and my shit in order and I like facts.

Love is so different though.
I have a very active imagination when it comes to love.
My imagination often gets the best of me.

In my creative life, my imagination has led to a quick series of amazing progressions in my life.

In my romantic life, it’s led to a series of tragic downfalls that leave me feeling like a dumbass.

A ne
My best friend for example.
I skipped that moment.
You know, the moment where I should have kissed them.
I’ve spent almost half my life being friends with a guy who I realized I could never like…MARRY…all because he missed that critical moment.

It would be nice however to move beyond it…
But it’s SO difficult to think of life without pining for someone,
without chasing someone
without trying to do some sort of creative feat of genius to win someone over.
Life without the pursuit and the chase would feel so…naked.

The way I’m writing about it, you might think that I engage in it for the sake of it.
I only pull out all the stops if the guy is
A. intelligent
B. charismatic
C. in contention for something long term.

Do you know how long it takes people to figure out their shit in this economy?
Below a certain economic bracket, love takes longer because you literally can’t AFFORD to keep fucking up your shit.

I know my personality, I know myself…I know my propensity to become disinterested in a man after a year because I realize they aren’t so cool or charismatic or as amazing as I made them out to be in my head….and having such an AMAZING imagination, my poor little brain plays tricks on me and I have to give it a chance to separate fact from fiction.

Most people would rather be stuck in fiction land their whole life.
Not me. I want the facts.
I get hung up because…the truth takes a long fucking time.

I want the truth to take a long time.
I want it to take a long time because when you’re used to getting whatever the fuck you want right when you want it…somehow you feel like you owe it to yourself to wait and make sure that whatever you’re getting yourself into is a genuine desire, and is not rooted in the basis of some bullshit sense of immediate entitlement that you think you’re supposed to have.


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