Somewhat surprisingly for a blog that predominantly has featured tales of sexual adventure & advice on how to obtain those, I’ve spent a significant amount of pages detailing my own feelings about how I feel I should take some sort of responsibility, given the truism that with great power, comes great responsibility. As I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion, I don’t believe myself to be a bad person. Far from it in fact; I’ve not once forced anyone to do anything. Quite the opposite in fact, where I’ve managed to get a girl back to my place, or pretty much had a direct proposal from her to come back with me, & I’ve declined.
I’m currently on the way back from an aborted trip to an eastern European country, which I thought I’d like to visit as a solo trip for a few days. As it turns out, I’ve wondered the fuck I’m actually doing here & instead have booked another flight back to my homeland, to spend a little more time with friends, family & Venezuelan.
I arrived here, having attempted to prime things using our favourite online dating tool. Lots of matches looked promising, only for interactions to be sharp yet sweet, when they realised I was a tourist. The highlight of the trip was meeting a highly sexually liberated nineteen year old Russian girl, who seemed very interested in having sex. But just to mix it up in the typical Unjaded way, I engineered her ass into a taxi, probably not to be seen again. No sex.
The serious reason why I didn’t, is detailed in my last post. Things are changing within me, which otherwise is pretty clear from the nature of my recent posts. A slew of introspective or contemplative posts questioning how I’m running my life, alongside the occasional bang-tastic one where I’ve slept with about five women in as many days.
But let’s come to the lowlight of the trip, an educational exchange demonstrating the fickle & also spiteful nature of a lot of women today, & unquestionably most prevalent from those found on our favourite dating app. Among my various chats, one came to light who we’ll call TheTalker. TheTalker was one of these quite common women we come across these days; a girl who’d clearly been in a long term relationship which hadn’t worked out, & then decided to delve into the mass of cock found online, but not feeling quite as comfortable as she’d imagined there, as she was doing it under duress against her true nature, trying to force out results (like a relationship) where one didn’t exist.
A few exchanged pleasantries later, I propose for us to meet. Apparently she isn’t feeling well, so that’s off the cards today I’m told. The rest of the time I’m then planning to be there isn’t looking too good either apparently. ‘Alright’, I think, ‘this is going to be a waste of time’, & so I begin to become more brazen in my messages, also truncating them substantially. I suggest again she come to my hotel, her seemingly liking the idea but not willing to put anything into action. This goes on a little, me losing more interest over time.
Then things take an interesting turn, as having already decided to use this as an experiment, in response to her asking if I have any plans for the evening, I mention a nineteen year old Russian girl has invited me out for a drink with her. Suddenly, she launches into how ‘Russian girls are bitches’ & how she thought ‘I didn’t like bitches’. I ask why Russian girls are bitches, to which she mentions something about how they’re ‘whores’, failing to give me some reason as to why she’s just tarred an entire race with one conclusion.
I decide to prolong the experiment by saying I hadn’t fully decided to meet her or not (of course, I had) & stopped replying to her. The lack of working roaming internet ensured I wouldn’t be able to do this, even if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to at all anyway. This woman’s inane chatter had dulled any interest long ago & now I was interested to prove my hypothesis I described earlier. This women had to me indicated through the persistence & frequency of her messages, as well as her rebuffs to my sexual proposals, that she was interested in more than sexual relations. Given the circumstances, this was of course impossible, but I entertained the notion to conclude the experiment.
I awoke the next morning to a message from TheTalker, asking if I had indeed met the Russian girl. If I was interested in nailing TheTalker, I would of course have said no. But it was clear she had an issue with the Russian girl, so I was intrigued to know how much detail she would ask from me before a reaction.
Predictably, it didn’t take much to get the reaction. A simple ‘Good morning! Yes I did’ was enough to inspire two messages, describing to me how she was going to meet two foreign guys later today, how cool it will be to meet them & some false ‘I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday’, before attempting to end dramatically with ‘bye’ at the end of each message. She’d made her assumptions quickly, guided by her limited & easily justifiable opinions about men she’d read in some female rag of a magazine or on her last ‘girls night’ out, & that was that. The bitterness couldn’t be held back, in spite of me offering her a drink, a coffee & my more direct proposals, before I agree to meet the Russian girl.
I blocked her, & that was that. Although I truly didn’t care about the outcome, it was a vivid reminder for me about the rapidly fickle nature of many women today. I also noted that from the many women I have had sexual involvement with from back in my main base country, only three of them made any effort whosoever to contact me while I was away. Again, I didn’t care as my relation with them is for the most part predominantly only sexual. Some of them such as SPC could have further potential due to their good nature, but while sex with MarriedBelorussian is incredible, I wouldn’t (& even now, don’t) trust her as far as I can throw her.
It’s always good to get little reminders like this. I have concerned myself too much with hurting certain women’s feelings, because they’ve always been interested in more. But ultimately, I believe it’s their prerogative to at least give the impression they’re into more. Any heartbreak women seem to go through, however intense it may be at the time, is rapidly overcome for the most part. The pain quickly becomes bitterness & new lovers are found, out of spite if nothing else, even when deeply their hearts are broken.
Coincidentally, I also made my peace with the Mexican yesterday. At least from my side. After occasional internal debating late on sleepness nights, about if I should in fact write an apologetic email, I yesterday decided to write something brief as a final apology. If she’ll get or even read it is unknown to me. All I care about is by doing that, I’ve made peace with myself.