2014 was a bad year for me. Incidentally, I got laid more that year than in any other before or since. Wait. That doesn’t add up. Sex = fulfillment = happiness, right?
I started out as a beta, the ultimate non-threat, a corkscrew in a Swiss Army Knife. If I knew one thing, it was how to pedestalize women. Woman actually, always one at a time. But through game I was able to plow through beta fields and graduate to what I thought was greener grass. No more oneitis goggles; they were all the same now: a mush of indistinct faces and vaginas, none any worse or better than the next, just a giant blank canvas for me to unleash the day’s new colors on, creating what and however I felt like creating purely for inventor’s delight.
A Kafkaesque metamorphosis. In 2014 I was now a relentless gamer: street game, library game, public transport game, cafe game, bar game, Tinder game, Wechat game, Tantan game. I was dominating every channel imaginable, short of doing 30-second TV slots to get me in your, well, slot. No job? No matter. No money? Enough for drinks, taxi fares, and KY Jelly. The rest? Fuck it. I had only one singular purpose in life: Henry Chinaski, women, women, women.
Yes, in shedding beta I’d given up being a prolific pedestalizer of women in distress. But in turning “alpha,” I’d become something just as pathetic, if not more so: a pedestalizer of pussy, a slave to the very notion of snatch. Fortunately, most of that is in the past. I understand now that women are not a reason to get out of bed in the morning. If your daily priority list reads like such:
- Bone Laqueefa
- Scratch balls
- Marathon through Big Bang Theory
…then you’re in serious need of self-appraising.
As David Deida says in The Way of the Superior Man,
A man’s highest purpose is his priority, not his intimacy. Your woman knows this. Deep inside, she really wants it to be this way. [A woman] would actually feel strange if her man suddenly said, “I’ve changed my mind. You are more important to me than the freedom of mankind. You are the most important thing in my life, and I don’t care if my service to humanity is needed elsewhere, so I’m staying here with you.”
As a man, you must live the straight and narrow, defined by your highest life purpose. But you must also watch out for the sirens. Homer warned us two millennia back—and that was a joke compared to today. With the rise and takeover of the whore machine, we are the most susceptible generation in history to the snatch virus that puts momentary euphoria over the masculine imperative of life purpose.
So I ask you: right now, what are you living for? Are you walking the straight and narrow? Or are the Siren songs making it little too hard to keep focus? Can’t tell for sure? Here are six signs that women need to be demoted on your list of life priorities:
1. You’re on Tinder or an equivalent—or worse, both
If you find that you’re opening Tinder multiple times in the day, swiping like there’s real gold on the other side of your phone screen, (1) there’s not and (2) it’s time to trash the app for good. Frequent Tinder use is never an indication that a man is on top of his shit, working toward and putting his ultimate life goal front and center. Moreover, if Tinder’s just one of many hookup apps in your phone, then the worst has been confirmed: you’re a slave to the snatch. Get out now.
Everything in moderation: If you absolutely must use Tinder, limit your activity to one ten-minute swipe and message session per day.
2. You go on too many dates
In my “prime” I was doing four dates a week, four different girls. The entirety of my life’s focus was on converting those dates to same-night lays. Whether I succeeded or not is immaterial. The point to let sink in here is that my spending everything (time and money) on a chance at casual sex was scientific proof that I’d lost my way as a man.
Everything in moderation: If it’s solely for sex, I recommend one date a week max, with an extra freebie thrown in once a month at your discretion.
3. You’re a scavenger at the club
Here’s what a club scavenger looks like: he hits the club with a friend or two, and as soon as everyone pays the trillion-dollar entrance fee… BREAK. They split into one-man search parties,
cocks flashlights out and on the hunt for one thing only: isolated snatch.
While some people are there to enjoy the scene, the scavenger’s purpose is very different; he will have enjoyed himself only if, by sunup, the sheriff has dick-dueled vagina and won flat-out. Otherwise the night was a failure, a waste of time, money, and especially dignity.
Everything in moderation: Maybe I’m biased because I hate clubs. Lots of ROK readers agree, but if you must go, I suggest twice a month max. Remember, go to have fun, not to scavenge.
4. You cum too much
This one is so underrated, and could be the key to unlocking your true potential as a man. As Napoleon Hill says in his seminal (no pun intended) Think And Grow Rich,
Sex desire is the most powerful of human desires. When driven by this desire, men develop keenness of imagination, courage, will-power, persistence, and creative ability unknown to them at other times. So strong and impelling is the desire for sexual contact that men freely run the risk of life and reputation to indulge it. When harnessed, and redirected along other lines, this motivating force maintains all of its attributes of keenness of imagination, courage, etc., which may be used as powerful creative forces in literature, art, or in any other profession of calling, including, of course, the accumulation of riches.
The “When harnessed…” line is a shout-out to sexual transmutation—that is, the art of transferring sex desire into other outlets for self-betterment purposes.
Everything in moderation: Remember, you drain yourself of the most powerful energy in the universe every time you shoot [Peter] North. Try this instead: take your age, divide by five, and the end result is your new magic number in between nut-busting days. So if you’re 30, then you should be busting once every six days only. Internalizing this no doubt keeps you strong on your straight and narrow and ensures you’re putting life purpose before vagina and short-term gratification.
5. You have unprotected casual sex
Going raw with randos is the worst (and most dangerous) indicator of a man totally enslaved by his sex desire. What you’re saying when you forego condoms is that the momentary dopamine fill is worth more than your past, present, and future life combined.
As Dave Chappelle liked to say, WRAP IT UP. Yes, easier said than done in the moment of passion and pleasure. But your life is about more than pleasure, remember?
Everything in moderation: Make her show you a notarized test result coming back negative for THE WORKS. Or, abide by the Big Sean line when he raps, “I’m the type to have a bulletproof condom… and still gotta pull out.”
6. You often break your schedule for a shot at vagina
Everything in moderation: Always go by your schedule, not hers.
Remember, a letter to grandma is more important than twenty minutes with Sally Sue. If you find yourself constantly postponing or procrastinating on P1 tasks to accommodate the schedule of your hookup buddy(-ies), then you’re in the red and it’s time to make a change.
A Final Word
When I was a slave to vagina, it wasn’t so much the addiction to actual snatch, or even the notion of it that kept me lighting the spoon for new fixes. That is, though her insides felt good, my own felt that much better, and that’s why I couldn’t stop. I’m talking, of course, about Ego, capital “E.” Every time I brought a girl back home I felt like a fucking champ way before we ever stripped each others’ clothes off. That was the carrot I was after, and that was why my 2014 was so depressing.
Once I identified Ego as the root of the problem, it was easier to ween off the snatch teat and focus on the things that truly matter in life. Make sure you’re doing the same—there’s no two ways around it. It’s your imperative as a man.
Read More: 20 Signs You’re A Slave To Modern Technology