Of Thoughts of the Sight of Signs of the Thoughts of Those behind the Bridge... 
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
BEWARE - ESSAY
I haven't written a long philosophical essay in my blog for a little while and as my time here is coming to renewal. I thought I might spend some time, sorry, waste some time in my new office at work... with the occational photo of odd collections of words thrown in for good humor.
You know I sometimes have moments of beautiful and majestic clarity. They sweep across my conscious mind like a crop duster that flies under the bridgework of light below parting clouds, destroying the specks of doubt so easily hidden in the undergrowth, yet so damaging to the years harvest. But retaining these moments for reference is something I find ever so hard. The image, as quickly as the word has spread through the field, so have they joined the black specs they sought to quell, tucked just below the surface of the ground unconscious and waiting. I have at times in my life sat and thought about things so much that I could almost believe I was the first to do so. Of course this is never true, but my lack of a centred tribal social dynamic at the moment has led me to attempt an alignment with a school of thought and not merely a fashionable, sub-cultural discourse. The later of which has no place in any truly logical ideal, because I believe, a sub culture is part of the greater culture, so is therefore not subversive to it, jeez!
Maybe there is a clue in the thoughts of others, people will say they can see things in you, you cannot see in yourself. People would walk past me in the street and cry out, or whisper amongst themselves as petty gossipers devoid of confidence to scheme like any true Machiavellian artists do, cynic! They would do this frequently, usually as my brow furrowed and tone became one of opinionated spite. Angry at my own misadventure and subsequent failure that tends to come when one believes he knows all of the worlds own ticks and tocks, but does not know how to wind his own clockwork. When in the light of truth the shadows in the cracks reveal nought but a raw jealousy, written out by weathered marks from a time of his formative years when the herd was not so kind of his furrowed brow, questioning gaze and opinionated calls. A bitter reminder now of the innocence of understanding and the true hypocrisy disguised in the jeers of minors. So a rejection of civil responsibility and of the life created within yet without nature, the shunning of fame and wealth to live in happy symbiosis with our world. In the context of any under 25 I believe this is rather counter intuitive, how can this be true? Another contradiction and no structure to form myself around is all that has been found here. Blast. This could only really give ideas of near Asceticism and that was never the plan.
The brow furrows and the spiteful tones sharpen, or they reside. The nature and expression of those bodies dragged from beneath the soil of that same old corn field forming my worldly manifestation, disregarding any ideas of dualism, ones face is only a slave to the mind. But still, the brow is furrowed, the anger at the flat logic's inability to force out these creases builds like a cacophony of Handel's ode to the high priest Zadok, for the wait for the final crowning moment is maddening. Anarchy!
That's the one; I've always had it I mind. It has a cool symbol that's been part of my signature since I began furrowing my brow and playing loud guitar and spitting on fans and them thinking it's endearing and the contradictions of youth were far from the horizon, I knew absolutely shit about fuck!
An anger like that of the tethered puppy, born of some guarding breed; of personal strength and conviction but ultimately a fruitless endeavour in physical reality, the passion, however, a weapon to retain. Angry at the control of another upon my world and the lack of control I show to my own. All those familiarities of the between ages that fade into nostalgic giggles and laughter amongst old friends when revisited by warm pub fires in shot of the seeking ears of firing loves and burning passions. Nothing now but an advert for your deep thought and independent nature at a time when all you truly desired was skin deep and in nature and mature retrospect, a bipartisanship. This disregard of the authority of my microcosm allowing creativity and curious intellect to thrive and grow beyond the fences that were set to prevent me farming the land outside, little did I know breaking the rules was a rule laid out for me. So the corn grew in the soils outside the fence and soon the I, the farmer, was trading it with the same authority that denied it, of course, with new land came new soil under which I could trap all manner of things. So once again we have found a pretty picture, but not the true representation of the scene, impressionist lines as depictions of barriers and swathes of spatula lathered paint in shapes of fruits blurred by the movement of a summer breeze, and when what I have been seeking is a photo of a corn field. Anyway the true nature of the anarchist is individualist in its essence and the metaphors have moved from the realm of sun soaked soils and greenery in a minds eye and to my own backyard. What amounts to frustration between the haves and those that believe they have nothing is not in my bag of tricks the removal of ownership is a near removal of responsibility and I'm not ready to give into the reds, anyway I own neat shit now. The other treads of this battle torn flag are too frayed for my need and collectivist or capitalist you may as well fly the golden cotton and green embroidered commodity hemp clothe bag of the later and just be happy with here and now, hell you can be part of the golden herd. The idols of biblical prehistory a fatted calf or a golden bull that stands proud and coiled ready to push you into consuming for the sake of growth and the good of the free market.
This is a soiled picture, not one of furtile lands and the happiness of self actualisation or a deeper understanding of where your contentment lies. The capitalist machine relies on the strength of growth to hold up all those that attempt to catch it's wind sat in their small boats in an unpredictable sea with sails weaved in the cotton factory's Spinning Jennys morphed over a hundred years into desks and sweet smelling ink, with group work and book reports. Economic growth. This supports the rise in people, money, food, fuel, space, if it stops the things in life loose their lustre and become worthless, if it recedes. Well, if it recedes we are punished by the numbers of which there are only 10 and one is nothing, but seem so powerful when they club together. Your home and your memories your holiday for next year and the promise of mental, physical and useful occupation can die away and the crop is lost, a ploughed field without corn. This is of course a mathematical nightmare and a social necessity. Because it has taken all of humanities lifetime to reach this level, that's 5,300,000 years ago in the depths of Africa to everywhere now, did you know our economy will double in 20 years. I am startled and too much apart of it to see it as an object now, just as a great beast modern genetics or a viral plague, running for the cliff with me in its belly.
As horrified as I am of this creature, residing in its belly I can quite happily drift the hours past in the new shopping districts and over priced restaurants. As people to can so nonchalantly speak of the terrible mental disease in terms of a market depression, like Blight eating away at your best efforts and rubbishing hours spent tending to your field of corn. This lack of emotion in understanding the logic of the situation that you are found in here is supposed to give true objective clarity. I should follow Zeno of Citium into the painted archway and train myself to such a noble doctrine as Stoicism, I can burn the out the embers of the pub fireplace. That spot where laughter and love meet and are fuelled by the warmth of familiar voices and shared memories and ideas. I would never be so bold as to attempt to define myself by anything other than my actions, but spreading the word is how you sell your corn and I'm growing more than I need in my humbled field spilling from the sides. Who needs to laugh at something clear of the selfish attention seeking of your emotional pull telling you to wait the many years till a good harvest for the chance at growing orange trees. Why should you want to laugh at something if you could truly understand it?
I'm cold now. So I seek the warmth of a familiar light, that one thing that runs parallel to all people and all cultures that sinks not into the fabric of the paintings on the walls but into the reasons and ideas to put that picture there in the first place. It's not Radiohead or Slash or Muse or Led Zeppelin or The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or any other form of blasphemous deification. It is the lord of lords, Ras Tafari, Allah, the almighty and powerful ruling fulcrum, pivot and load of the cosmic balance that our world sits upon. I am not like many others, a Christian Satanist, a Muslim, a Hindu, Buddhist or Voodoo Pagan Whole Earth layer upon layer of confusion and contradiction. But I am layer upon layer of confusion and contradiction.
If God is the belief that there is a higher power that governs the laws of the world around us, then I absolutely have faith, I'm a mathematician. If God is present and nudges almost every human relationship then I absolutely have faith, I've met skilled PUAs. It is the free choice of how best to use these laws that makes us human and not cosmic puppets. I see God everywhere and am in awe of the power and beauty it can create and in that I am praying, every time I spend 5 minutes looking up at some dramatic autumn sky where streaks of cloud lace up some duvet of white fluff splitting at the sides from the force of a red and orange sun behind it, that's a prayer. Every time I read a text book and see the path of a photon across a Feynman diagram (something you have to look up) or a clever insight into the actions of a person, actual or fictitious, that's a prayer. All I am doing is giving thanks and admiring the majesty of what God has created. There is no doctrine, I am a product of everything that has happened in life and everything I hope to achieve. I am defined by my actions and not words, by having and not having, because I broke the rules, because I tried to live without material goals and because I question myself and everything around me. I think I might have a bumper crop this season, again. This is the reason why I am always so positive and why nothing ever really gets to me, unless it is thoughtless or I have not had the chance to think about it myself. I knew I would forget it as soon as I thought about it, that others had said before me and how hopelessly incomplete it is, but there is no pretence, I'm happy about that. This is not the clarity I sought, as without doctrine there is no comfort as so many things are still too dynamic. But alas the bugs have receded into the soil again as the constant drone of my crop dusting over what they think is their field of corn has disturbed their feasting, so for now at least the dust has settled and the corn can grow in peace, in the gentle breeze and warmth of the Sun.
BEWARE - ESSAY
I haven't written a long philosophical essay in my blog for a little while and as my time here is coming to renewal. I thought I might spend some time, sorry, waste some time in my new office at work... with the occational photo of odd collections of words thrown in for good humor.
You know I sometimes have moments of beautiful and majestic clarity. They sweep across my conscious mind like a crop duster that flies under the bridgework of light below parting clouds, destroying the specks of doubt so easily hidden in the undergrowth, yet so damaging to the years harvest. But retaining these moments for reference is something I find ever so hard. The image, as quickly as the word has spread through the field, so have they joined the black specs they sought to quell, tucked just below the surface of the ground unconscious and waiting. I have at times in my life sat and thought about things so much that I could almost believe I was the first to do so. Of course this is never true, but my lack of a centred tribal social dynamic at the moment has led me to attempt an alignment with a school of thought and not merely a fashionable, sub-cultural discourse. The later of which has no place in any truly logical ideal, because I believe, a sub culture is part of the greater culture, so is therefore not subversive to it, jeez!
Maybe there is a clue in the thoughts of others, people will say they can see things in you, you cannot see in yourself. People would walk past me in the street and cry out, or whisper amongst themselves as petty gossipers devoid of confidence to scheme like any true Machiavellian artists do, cynic! They would do this frequently, usually as my brow furrowed and tone became one of opinionated spite. Angry at my own misadventure and subsequent failure that tends to come when one believes he knows all of the worlds own ticks and tocks, but does not know how to wind his own clockwork. When in the light of truth the shadows in the cracks reveal nought but a raw jealousy, written out by weathered marks from a time of his formative years when the herd was not so kind of his furrowed brow, questioning gaze and opinionated calls. A bitter reminder now of the innocence of understanding and the true hypocrisy disguised in the jeers of minors. So a rejection of civil responsibility and of the life created within yet without nature, the shunning of fame and wealth to live in happy symbiosis with our world. In the context of any under 25 I believe this is rather counter intuitive, how can this be true? Another contradiction and no structure to form myself around is all that has been found here. Blast. This could only really give ideas of near Asceticism and that was never the plan.
The brow furrows and the spiteful tones sharpen, or they reside. The nature and expression of those bodies dragged from beneath the soil of that same old corn field forming my worldly manifestation, disregarding any ideas of dualism, ones face is only a slave to the mind. But still, the brow is furrowed, the anger at the flat logic's inability to force out these creases builds like a cacophony of Handel's ode to the high priest Zadok, for the wait for the final crowning moment is maddening. Anarchy!
That's the one; I've always had it I mind. It has a cool symbol that's been part of my signature since I began furrowing my brow and playing loud guitar and spitting on fans and them thinking it's endearing and the contradictions of youth were far from the horizon, I knew absolutely shit about fuck!
An anger like that of the tethered puppy, born of some guarding breed; of personal strength and conviction but ultimately a fruitless endeavour in physical reality, the passion, however, a weapon to retain. Angry at the control of another upon my world and the lack of control I show to my own. All those familiarities of the between ages that fade into nostalgic giggles and laughter amongst old friends when revisited by warm pub fires in shot of the seeking ears of firing loves and burning passions. Nothing now but an advert for your deep thought and independent nature at a time when all you truly desired was skin deep and in nature and mature retrospect, a bipartisanship. This disregard of the authority of my microcosm allowing creativity and curious intellect to thrive and grow beyond the fences that were set to prevent me farming the land outside, little did I know breaking the rules was a rule laid out for me. So the corn grew in the soils outside the fence and soon the I, the farmer, was trading it with the same authority that denied it, of course, with new land came new soil under which I could trap all manner of things. So once again we have found a pretty picture, but not the true representation of the scene, impressionist lines as depictions of barriers and swathes of spatula lathered paint in shapes of fruits blurred by the movement of a summer breeze, and when what I have been seeking is a photo of a corn field. Anyway the true nature of the anarchist is individualist in its essence and the metaphors have moved from the realm of sun soaked soils and greenery in a minds eye and to my own backyard. What amounts to frustration between the haves and those that believe they have nothing is not in my bag of tricks the removal of ownership is a near removal of responsibility and I'm not ready to give into the reds, anyway I own neat shit now. The other treads of this battle torn flag are too frayed for my need and collectivist or capitalist you may as well fly the golden cotton and green embroidered commodity hemp clothe bag of the later and just be happy with here and now, hell you can be part of the golden herd. The idols of biblical prehistory a fatted calf or a golden bull that stands proud and coiled ready to push you into consuming for the sake of growth and the good of the free market.
This is a soiled picture, not one of furtile lands and the happiness of self actualisation or a deeper understanding of where your contentment lies. The capitalist machine relies on the strength of growth to hold up all those that attempt to catch it's wind sat in their small boats in an unpredictable sea with sails weaved in the cotton factory's Spinning Jennys morphed over a hundred years into desks and sweet smelling ink, with group work and book reports. Economic growth. This supports the rise in people, money, food, fuel, space, if it stops the things in life loose their lustre and become worthless, if it recedes. Well, if it recedes we are punished by the numbers of which there are only 10 and one is nothing, but seem so powerful when they club together. Your home and your memories your holiday for next year and the promise of mental, physical and useful occupation can die away and the crop is lost, a ploughed field without corn. This is of course a mathematical nightmare and a social necessity. Because it has taken all of humanities lifetime to reach this level, that's 5,300,000 years ago in the depths of Africa to everywhere now, did you know our economy will double in 20 years. I am startled and too much apart of it to see it as an object now, just as a great beast modern genetics or a viral plague, running for the cliff with me in its belly.
As horrified as I am of this creature, residing in its belly I can quite happily drift the hours past in the new shopping districts and over priced restaurants. As people to can so nonchalantly speak of the terrible mental disease in terms of a market depression, like Blight eating away at your best efforts and rubbishing hours spent tending to your field of corn. This lack of emotion in understanding the logic of the situation that you are found in here is supposed to give true objective clarity. I should follow Zeno of Citium into the painted archway and train myself to such a noble doctrine as Stoicism, I can burn the out the embers of the pub fireplace. That spot where laughter and love meet and are fuelled by the warmth of familiar voices and shared memories and ideas. I would never be so bold as to attempt to define myself by anything other than my actions, but spreading the word is how you sell your corn and I'm growing more than I need in my humbled field spilling from the sides. Who needs to laugh at something clear of the selfish attention seeking of your emotional pull telling you to wait the many years till a good harvest for the chance at growing orange trees. Why should you want to laugh at something if you could truly understand it?
I'm cold now. So I seek the warmth of a familiar light, that one thing that runs parallel to all people and all cultures that sinks not into the fabric of the paintings on the walls but into the reasons and ideas to put that picture there in the first place. It's not Radiohead or Slash or Muse or Led Zeppelin or The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or any other form of blasphemous deification. It is the lord of lords, Ras Tafari, Allah, the almighty and powerful ruling fulcrum, pivot and load of the cosmic balance that our world sits upon. I am not like many others, a Christian Satanist, a Muslim, a Hindu, Buddhist or Voodoo Pagan Whole Earth layer upon layer of confusion and contradiction. But I am layer upon layer of confusion and contradiction.
If God is the belief that there is a higher power that governs the laws of the world around us, then I absolutely have faith, I'm a mathematician. If God is present and nudges almost every human relationship then I absolutely have faith, I've met skilled PUAs. It is the free choice of how best to use these laws that makes us human and not cosmic puppets. I see God everywhere and am in awe of the power and beauty it can create and in that I am praying, every time I spend 5 minutes looking up at some dramatic autumn sky where streaks of cloud lace up some duvet of white fluff splitting at the sides from the force of a red and orange sun behind it, that's a prayer. Every time I read a text book and see the path of a photon across a Feynman diagram (something you have to look up) or a clever insight into the actions of a person, actual or fictitious, that's a prayer. All I am doing is giving thanks and admiring the majesty of what God has created. There is no doctrine, I am a product of everything that has happened in life and everything I hope to achieve. I am defined by my actions and not words, by having and not having, because I broke the rules, because I tried to live without material goals and because I question myself and everything around me. I think I might have a bumper crop this season, again. This is the reason why I am always so positive and why nothing ever really gets to me, unless it is thoughtless or I have not had the chance to think about it myself. I knew I would forget it as soon as I thought about it, that others had said before me and how hopelessly incomplete it is, but there is no pretence, I'm happy about that. This is not the clarity I sought, as without doctrine there is no comfort as so many things are still too dynamic. But alas the bugs have receded into the soil again as the constant drone of my crop dusting over what they think is their field of corn has disturbed their feasting, so for now at least the dust has settled and the corn can grow in peace, in the gentle breeze and warmth of the Sun.
What's that mate, were you bit by a vampire or something? 
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
I think I have now retired my libido to the retrieve in 3-5 years box. I have so much to do and girls mostly, very sweetly of course, try to get in the way. I need to get chartered as quickly as I possibly can and that takes effort and travel, something I'm all about at the moment. Plus this girl at the weekend, who I was having a nice conversation about surfing with when I let slip I was maybe a bit conscious of my bad skin said,
"don't worry you'll be fit when you're 30"... umm WTF!..... RUDE! She tried backtracking by saying something about Brad Pitt only getting roles in his late 20s, but it was too late. Harsh. Maybe, but it made me realise the lack of patience I have with lasses at the moment. I just can't be bothered in working to play the game with them because I'm counting all the obstacles.
Also I don't even drive yet! That's gay. I have been talking lessons though and I'm almost up to speed now, AKA down to speed. I have a speed thing. Maybe. Still I am an ace driver so I should be passed just after the new year and then I can buy some hot piece of metal ass and pimp it.
Bored of people going on about never getting any, picking up chicks is easy it's the rest that makes it fun... (incidentally I'll put the next few paragraphs down for future reference for anyone, and lasses can see if it's ever happened to them)...
All you have to do and trust me, all you have to do... (I hope this doesn't get me into trouble, just know that all guys do this whether it's knowingly or not)...
This is no pretence either, although it's written rather coldly... it's just how it goes. It's not the whole answer, but then the method of each stage and what you say is pretty specific to a person, but it's a good start I think.
Before the approach, pick your target... You ARE the best guy in the room, no matter what anyone else thinks, go for someone you really like, no settling! No end of night slag/drunkard groping. Give yourself some respect and you will show it and feel it. Also, just because I know doesn't mean I do it every time, sometimes the inner geek lets himself loose in the heat of the moment. It's okay though, because I mostly just clam up and go a deep shade of red whenever I try and speak to a girl I think is really hot... D'OH!
1. Approach.
Talk to a group not a loner. Make roads with the ugly girls and guys, become their mate and be cocky with the object of your attraction. If you lead the conversation in the group you are validated, as the object of your attraction sees, 'wow, this guy is funny and fun and is a leader of men, sexy... why isn't he talking to me?' Do this a lot... talk to everyone you can, if you're everyone's mates then you're time is a commodity and a commodity is attractive, bankers get all the chicks!
2. Sell Yourself.
Keep being cocky and funny and talkative bout interesting things, ignore the girl you like, in fact, mock her... and the object of your attraction will start clamouring for attention. Reward it lightly with affection. But not too much. Girls hate nice guys, I often pull this when bored of conversation (rightly or wrongly) good way to get a girl to go away without being rude, or to affirm the "we're friends only" stance.
3. Privacy.
Borrow and move the girl onto a new location now she digs you. Friends can't interrupt she's experiencing new things with you, it's all good. Build a decent level of comfort with friendly conversation, no bragging, no bullshit... tell stories! Think of it like an interview, she will want to hear of a time you: Helped your mates out over looking out for yourself (selfless), a really mad plain giggle of a circus time (adventurous), a comforting night in or relaxed attitude to life (easy going)... plus others, remember no bull shit! Tell the truth, but MAKE it interesting. After all we all are! Avoid bearing all until you reach 4, I mean showing vulnerability is human and don't avoid it, you'll seem pretentious, but get comfortable first, get her to open up to. Tit for tat, don't give it all away for free for fuck sake.
4. Building Sexual Tension
Build more comfort and escalate tactile contact (probably have already, but in cocky playful sense so far), not smutty and don't ask too much of her. Don't put your hand in her lap, unless she wants you to, put hers on yours. She can choose to take it off if she likes. Or lightly brush or hold her, being protective or sweet or playful but not too sexual, if it's fleeting she'll miss it, if it's prolonged she'll loathe it. Keep going and lead the conversation, not too many questions though keep it open it's a conversation, not an inquisition. You probably should kiss her about now to going into the next stage...
5. Diverse Shared Experience
Through the escalation of this it helps to move around a bit if you can. Not your arms and legs like a gym spider, but in location. If you get to go somewhere together AKA a different bar, room in the club or chippy, you're going there together with each other, hand in hand, good psychology. You've gotta be able to picture yourselves doing it in the future or else what are you doing at all?
6. The way you conduct yourself in points 1-5 above is very important to... smooth isn't the word, that's lame, but natural. A tip a very good friend once told me was. DON'T BE YOURSELF, BE YOUR BEST SELF. Picture that day you were talkative and everyone thought your lame jokes were funny, coz of how you told them, be that guy! Naturally, lol. All sounds a lot harder than it really is. Don't be nice is the best advise, she'll just seek validation from you, which is nice for her and maybe that's all you want, that's what you do for friends. She's all, "oh yeah, I'm the shit coz this guy tells me I am all the time, he must be less in the tribe than me, oh yeah, I'm gonna go fuck someone stronger of mind than me so I can grow"... harsh, maybe, self serving, but aren't we all. Don't give it away to easy make sure she knows you're both the prize, she has to respect you to.
7. Evolution.
Sex is a bigger jump for a lass than a guy.
It has overtones in evolutionary memory of, if I get preggers by this guy and he flakes or isn't strong enough to protect me and my (un)born bebe I'm fucked. Hence all the ground work, you both have to be into this! It takes time and effort, so be respectful. But of course a girl in modern age just gets feelings of being slutty the first time round, usually, you have to push past this last minute rejection... not rape! Fuck me, not rape! But be confident, if you got her to your house/outside your door/her door and she lets you in, she wants to fuck, or else she would have gone home already or made an excuse about her friends ages ago!
Approach is bigger jump for a guy than a lass.
Fear of approach is the guys biggest downfall. Listen girls, don't be so harsh on us. Why? I mean it's just talking and there are loads of other fit girls? Wrong... in a man tribe if you get rejected by the leading females, the chief and his mates WILL kick your ass to the jungle for being C - grade genetic code. Fuck. Alone in the jungle you will furiously masturbate into reflective pools wearing grass skirt wigs and die alone. Fear of approach = fear of rejection = pretty primal fear of death. Be confident and act quick, if you leave it too long then she will see you building the steam to do it, not sexy! 3 second rule for dropping food also applies here, it helps me just do it. The feeling of lameness of reaching 4 is a great motivator.
Closer: This can all take part in one night... but it rarely does for most guys. If it does then likelihood is you won't hear much again, probably because you won't have the comfort and rapport going so it'll be awkward on the phone etc and she'll chicken out. Jumping around locations is good and can be anything from a short date the next day for walk or something, to a shopping trip or bar... avoid the cinema! This is for couple with little to say to each other that need to see someone else's interesting life so they don't have to talk about their own. Anyway you don't get to talk and if you're on a second day (not date, gross) outing then you'll be engrossed in each others minds! All of the above steps need to be completed... in order... or else nothing. So don't force it, she has choice and she can choose not to do anything with you, so prove she made a bad decision. Jealousy works so well on a girl... if she flat out rejects you and sees you having a swell time with two other girls and some guys later, she'll suddenly remember how much she liked you... awwww. If she shows interest again now, reward it (and yourself) and go say hey, probably go straight to 2. and 3. pretty quick.
All of this revolved around a lot of circumstantial bravado BS type language... I can't go into body language and how a girl shows you she's a bit interested in conversation it would take ages... it's all the same as for a guy, basically, we're not much different, lol. Laugh at bad jokes, pointing body language, eyes tell a story sometimes, but sometimes girls are guarded of their face and you have to read the rest.
I think I have now retired my libido to the retrieve in 3-5 years box. I have so much to do and girls mostly, very sweetly of course, try to get in the way. I need to get chartered as quickly as I possibly can and that takes effort and travel, something I'm all about at the moment. Plus this girl at the weekend, who I was having a nice conversation about surfing with when I let slip I was maybe a bit conscious of my bad skin said,
"don't worry you'll be fit when you're 30"... umm WTF!..... RUDE! She tried backtracking by saying something about Brad Pitt only getting roles in his late 20s, but it was too late. Harsh. Maybe, but it made me realise the lack of patience I have with lasses at the moment. I just can't be bothered in working to play the game with them because I'm counting all the obstacles.
Also I don't even drive yet! That's gay. I have been talking lessons though and I'm almost up to speed now, AKA down to speed. I have a speed thing. Maybe. Still I am an ace driver so I should be passed just after the new year and then I can buy some hot piece of metal ass and pimp it.
Bored of people going on about never getting any, picking up chicks is easy it's the rest that makes it fun... (incidentally I'll put the next few paragraphs down for future reference for anyone, and lasses can see if it's ever happened to them)...
All you have to do and trust me, all you have to do... (I hope this doesn't get me into trouble, just know that all guys do this whether it's knowingly or not)...
This is no pretence either, although it's written rather coldly... it's just how it goes. It's not the whole answer, but then the method of each stage and what you say is pretty specific to a person, but it's a good start I think.
Before the approach, pick your target... You ARE the best guy in the room, no matter what anyone else thinks, go for someone you really like, no settling! No end of night slag/drunkard groping. Give yourself some respect and you will show it and feel it. Also, just because I know doesn't mean I do it every time, sometimes the inner geek lets himself loose in the heat of the moment. It's okay though, because I mostly just clam up and go a deep shade of red whenever I try and speak to a girl I think is really hot... D'OH!
1. Approach.
Talk to a group not a loner. Make roads with the ugly girls and guys, become their mate and be cocky with the object of your attraction. If you lead the conversation in the group you are validated, as the object of your attraction sees, 'wow, this guy is funny and fun and is a leader of men, sexy... why isn't he talking to me?' Do this a lot... talk to everyone you can, if you're everyone's mates then you're time is a commodity and a commodity is attractive, bankers get all the chicks!
2. Sell Yourself.
Keep being cocky and funny and talkative bout interesting things, ignore the girl you like, in fact, mock her... and the object of your attraction will start clamouring for attention. Reward it lightly with affection. But not too much. Girls hate nice guys, I often pull this when bored of conversation (rightly or wrongly) good way to get a girl to go away without being rude, or to affirm the "we're friends only" stance.
3. Privacy.
Borrow and move the girl onto a new location now she digs you. Friends can't interrupt she's experiencing new things with you, it's all good. Build a decent level of comfort with friendly conversation, no bragging, no bullshit... tell stories! Think of it like an interview, she will want to hear of a time you: Helped your mates out over looking out for yourself (selfless), a really mad plain giggle of a circus time (adventurous), a comforting night in or relaxed attitude to life (easy going)... plus others, remember no bull shit! Tell the truth, but MAKE it interesting. After all we all are! Avoid bearing all until you reach 4, I mean showing vulnerability is human and don't avoid it, you'll seem pretentious, but get comfortable first, get her to open up to. Tit for tat, don't give it all away for free for fuck sake.
4. Building Sexual Tension
Build more comfort and escalate tactile contact (probably have already, but in cocky playful sense so far), not smutty and don't ask too much of her. Don't put your hand in her lap, unless she wants you to, put hers on yours. She can choose to take it off if she likes. Or lightly brush or hold her, being protective or sweet or playful but not too sexual, if it's fleeting she'll miss it, if it's prolonged she'll loathe it. Keep going and lead the conversation, not too many questions though keep it open it's a conversation, not an inquisition. You probably should kiss her about now to going into the next stage...
5. Diverse Shared Experience
Through the escalation of this it helps to move around a bit if you can. Not your arms and legs like a gym spider, but in location. If you get to go somewhere together AKA a different bar, room in the club or chippy, you're going there together with each other, hand in hand, good psychology. You've gotta be able to picture yourselves doing it in the future or else what are you doing at all?
6. The way you conduct yourself in points 1-5 above is very important to... smooth isn't the word, that's lame, but natural. A tip a very good friend once told me was. DON'T BE YOURSELF, BE YOUR BEST SELF. Picture that day you were talkative and everyone thought your lame jokes were funny, coz of how you told them, be that guy! Naturally, lol. All sounds a lot harder than it really is. Don't be nice is the best advise, she'll just seek validation from you, which is nice for her and maybe that's all you want, that's what you do for friends. She's all, "oh yeah, I'm the shit coz this guy tells me I am all the time, he must be less in the tribe than me, oh yeah, I'm gonna go fuck someone stronger of mind than me so I can grow"... harsh, maybe, self serving, but aren't we all. Don't give it away to easy make sure she knows you're both the prize, she has to respect you to.
7. Evolution.
Sex is a bigger jump for a lass than a guy.
It has overtones in evolutionary memory of, if I get preggers by this guy and he flakes or isn't strong enough to protect me and my (un)born bebe I'm fucked. Hence all the ground work, you both have to be into this! It takes time and effort, so be respectful. But of course a girl in modern age just gets feelings of being slutty the first time round, usually, you have to push past this last minute rejection... not rape! Fuck me, not rape! But be confident, if you got her to your house/outside your door/her door and she lets you in, she wants to fuck, or else she would have gone home already or made an excuse about her friends ages ago!
Approach is bigger jump for a guy than a lass.
Fear of approach is the guys biggest downfall. Listen girls, don't be so harsh on us. Why? I mean it's just talking and there are loads of other fit girls? Wrong... in a man tribe if you get rejected by the leading females, the chief and his mates WILL kick your ass to the jungle for being C - grade genetic code. Fuck. Alone in the jungle you will furiously masturbate into reflective pools wearing grass skirt wigs and die alone. Fear of approach = fear of rejection = pretty primal fear of death. Be confident and act quick, if you leave it too long then she will see you building the steam to do it, not sexy! 3 second rule for dropping food also applies here, it helps me just do it. The feeling of lameness of reaching 4 is a great motivator.
Closer: This can all take part in one night... but it rarely does for most guys. If it does then likelihood is you won't hear much again, probably because you won't have the comfort and rapport going so it'll be awkward on the phone etc and she'll chicken out. Jumping around locations is good and can be anything from a short date the next day for walk or something, to a shopping trip or bar... avoid the cinema! This is for couple with little to say to each other that need to see someone else's interesting life so they don't have to talk about their own. Anyway you don't get to talk and if you're on a second day (not date, gross) outing then you'll be engrossed in each others minds! All of the above steps need to be completed... in order... or else nothing. So don't force it, she has choice and she can choose not to do anything with you, so prove she made a bad decision. Jealousy works so well on a girl... if she flat out rejects you and sees you having a swell time with two other girls and some guys later, she'll suddenly remember how much she liked you... awwww. If she shows interest again now, reward it (and yourself) and go say hey, probably go straight to 2. and 3. pretty quick.
All of this revolved around a lot of circumstantial bravado BS type language... I can't go into body language and how a girl shows you she's a bit interested in conversation it would take ages... it's all the same as for a guy, basically, we're not much different, lol. Laugh at bad jokes, pointing body language, eyes tell a story sometimes, but sometimes girls are guarded of their face and you have to read the rest.
Thus endeth the lesson. Or maybe... that was more a spouting... but I dig a good spout every now and then. It's an oddity I afford myself, you guys in SG land and nobody else. People only let me run with it when narchotics prevent them calling me on my bullshit monologuing... the pains of a clean life spread in your face! xoxoxo
EDIT ---- The above is defo up for discussion, I want arguments and sound ones none of this... "Yeah, but no, but yeah, but you see I ain't like that thiieewww!". Maybe I'll do one for picking up guys in the next blog... 
could be more useful...
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I'm sure my subconcious is fucking with me!
But I don't think I smell.