You can become incredibly jaded after implementing game in your life, dealing with 1000’s of girls and being exposed to their blasé views on sex and dating.
It has certainly happened to me.
They say and do things that would have shocked me to the core years ago–now I take it in stride and sometimes it doesn’t register until months later, or it gets blocked out completely–a coping mechanism to maintain sanity.
Case in point materialized last night.
I was settling in on my couch, alone, getting ready to watch a film, and a memory that had been suppressed from months ago popped into my head.
I had been seeing a girl from Paris for a while, she was as close to a girlfriend as I’ve had in years (M, from the Mexico roadtrip series), and when her Visa expired last Fall, she had to leave the U.S.
While seeing her, I had attended many gallery openings she had curated and met a lot of her French friends.
One of her girlfriends was quite attractive and we always had strong sexual tension between us. M noticed this and made me promise not to fuck her until she was gone, I complied.
When M left the country, I ran into the girlfriend again at another party and ended up taking her home.
We didn’t really get along that well, but the sex was great, she didn’t expect anything of me, and she hardly ever spent the night.
Our little affair went on for just over 3 weeks, and one night, after sex, I invited her to stay and watch a movie with me.
Her response was:
“No, I can’t, thats too intimate”
This was a girl I had been inside of for hours, who screamed in ecstasy as we fucked, took my cum in her mouth, and let me do whatever I wanted to her body.
I looked at her funny and chuckled as she gathered up her clothes and left.
Things fizzled out fast after that and I hadn’t thought about the interaction until last night.
I sent a Tweet about it (because thats what modern people do), and the response was more than I expected.
It made me realize how intriguing the exchange was.
Woody Allen couldn’t have scripted it better.
Up until my late 20s, I thought that sex was the most intimate act in the world.
I would set up movie dates hoping that it would lead to sex, we would sit there, arms around eachother, laughing together, having a conversation after, allowing our minds to connect, and bonding over a good story.
This is what I thought girls needed: a strong mental connection + comfort = sex.
I would usually be too nervous to make a bold move, and the only times I got laid in those days was if the girl escalated.
I’m not sure which switch flipped first–whether it was a consequence of maturity, a result from sleeping with 100s of women, an internalization of the redpill–but at some point in my journey sex didn’t require intimacy anymore and could be enjoyed as a purely physical act.
That switch was also in mindset, it went from:
-watching movies at home and making her comfortable
-acting aggressive right away while out and taking charge.
And that started getting me laid like wildfire.
In the past three years, I’ve only had a small handful of girls I would say that I was intimate with. Girls that I felt could handle what I had to offer AND I felt comfortable opening up to.
Intimacy all comes down to trusting the other person, and if you can’t trust yourself, there is no way you can trust anyone else.
Thats what the girl from my above example had a unsurmountable problem with.
She knew that she would jump into bed with her friends lover as soon as she had the chance, I knew it too from the beginning, and that unspoken violation acted like a wall that prevented us from connecting from anything outside of sex.
Its also the reason I usually never see a girl again if I met her through a One Night Stand. The work it would take in order to talk about what happened without her fearing judgement or me thinking she would be offended is just too much.
I say usually because there have been exceptions where the girl was open with me right off the bat and could take my questions about her actions that night (and she was exceptionally beautiful), and that honesty broke down the barriers enough to allow us to connect and feel comfortable seeing eachother again.
All this intimacy pondering got me wondering if it is a necessary part of human existence.
Last night, when I was settling in to watch that movie by myself, I did think of how nice it would be to share the couch with a sexy female, thats why the memory of the non-intimate girl crept up again, but after a fleeting moment it was gone and I was perfectly content by myself again.
I’ve created the sort of life I live because I have never had the desire to get married and start a family.
I feel like I know too much and have seen the worst of the world and the people in it and truly believe it is beyond repair.
I do believe there is hope in every individual and want to do my best to inspire change within anyone who wants to learn, but as for humanity at large–it would be a sin to me to bring another life into this fucked up place.
The entire Earth is my mistress right now and I want to keep exploring her as much as possible. That role has always been calling and overrides any desire to reproduce.
The two things that have carved that path…
Art causes me to go deep within myself, it always has, and has always caused a sense of fulfillment when doing so. Anything meaningful has to communicate truth and beauty, it forces you to become honest with yourself. Intimate.
Nature has always been a genuine comfort, she has been more healing than any other human, and I enjoy absorbing her purity and intricate simplicity.
And for now thats where I’ll continue drawing true intimacy from.