Tumultuousity

Adopt the “Available for hire” look, like Bre Tiesi!

Over the last week, I’ve had a close call & discovered the power of the mind, particularly when spending too much time alone. Somehow or another, the Hungarian girl I was seeing, who was getting a bit wrapped up in me, tricked her way into my house & set about quizzing me about ‘my girlfriend’, with an average level of accuracy. I didn’t bother trying to hide anything, as I honestly thought I was fucked. Although some key information was missing, I assumed that was that.

After I persuaded her out of my house, I set about scouring through the remainder of my social media, as I tried to piece together how she could have found out. In the end, nothing came to pass & my emotional turbulence was all for nothing. It was again a reminder, particularly after the confidence I displayed in prior weeks, that we are only as secure as our situation. While I would have had to deal with the guilt & had to feel a bit empty in the futility of sharing any achievements without a partner, I would have coped. It was a stark reminder of the need to appreciate what we have. Nevertheless, I cancelled the rest of the week’s ‘appointments’ & adopted a conservative existence for at least a week. I kinda needed the rest anyway, truth be told.

It did intrigue me however, that she’d found out, so while I took stock of the situation, I also thought about who could have mentioned something. After exciting myself over some eventually false theories, I realised it was probably one of my colleagues. Apparently two people had contacted her separately. I assumed it was a girl, as girls like to be a little spiteful in that regard. They get to unload a little man bitterness & also relish in dragging the affected woman down to their own level that they convince themselves of the misery of, despite having everything available on hand & probably some type of beneficiary supporting them.

In the end, I was unable to come to a reasonably certain conclusion however & given that everything seemed fine on the home front, I let it rest. It was certainly a reminder of watching your mouth & depth of interpersonal involvement with colleagues however. I resolved to return to an even stricter level of professionalism forthwith.

Satisfyingly, a colleague who I’ve never really been fond of due to his conviction he’s better than me at the job we do as well as his overall arrogant attitude, got his contract cancelled the day after. I have a suspicion he may have also have somehow been involved in the aforementioned situation. In any case though, my satisfaction was pretty much maxed out anyway, especially as he ‘regretfully’ told me the news.

The downside was, that another four people also got released; two of which were talented people who I enjoyed working with. The corporation in which I currently am working with, is rapidly moving more & more positions offshore, with a clear detriment on quality, as people become ever more detached from where the work will be delivered, the global architectural business view & the intangible get discounted. The chemistry between quality colleagues who work with each other regularly, & know who & how to get to the objective. Much in the same way as a sports team cannot immediately always perform as an assembly of talented players without time to gel, it is much the same with a work team. But this isn’t reflected tangibly, such as upon a balance sheet & is not taken into account when restructuring occurs. It takes vision to see the value of this; something western society loses more & more of with every passing day.

You could even liken it to being a man, who doesn’t value the chemistry one might have with a woman & instead goes for a physically more attractive woman, but who instead is utterly disconnected to sex. Or one whose ego prevents him from casting her aside when she cheats on him, either because he’s got such low self esteem he believes he wouldn’t find another decent woman in the three other billion on our planet or (worst still), that he’s so convinced of himself, that he believes he can ‘save’ her. I do believe if there is any regulating force that operates above & over us, it brings these people to those who need to finally look at themselves & say ‘I need to change’.

We all have a breaking point.

~ Unjaded

Retribution

I thought I’d try searching for ‘sexy feminist’ today, to give a fair shot. And I’m sorry, but that was an abysmal failure unless you have a weird Beyonce fetish. So here’s a picture of the incredibly hot Bryana Holly instead.

I love travelling by train. It’s quite the metaphor for life in my eyes. You make a decision on where you want to end up & on that journey a whole bunch of sights speed past. As I thunder past, these landmarks seem more interesting to me than if I were just passing by in my day to day activities. Even things such as a field with some cows & a big pylon in it seem to gain an extra level of intrigue to me; not because of that childlike wonder when you discover new things as a youngster but more that it reminds me of that time. As you get older & learn how things really work, that idealism gets replaced by a survive & prosper mentality. You look at the situation, decide what you need to do to firstly stabilise & then optimise, until you reach a level of satisfaction.

I find that pretty sad. Not only do we lose the playfulness that makes us who we are, but we also become cynical. These days, the most attractive thing about anyone in any type of relationship is their playfulness & ability to have fun. That in turn fuels me. There’s nothing like having a bit of optimism & laughing in the face of potential tragedy. Given the inevitability of our own mortality, what other choice is there? A life devoid of feeling or experiences is a complete loss of an opportunity in my opinion.

On the other hand, I’ve realised environments where a bleak & grim acceptance is prevalent, just utterly drain me. An example is the total joke of self important politics that exists within the corporate world. While the typical day to day activities of my actual job are tolerable & at times, even verging on interesting, I’m currently being encouraged (read ‘pushed’) into management conversations in my job, which honestly I’ve always despised on account of it clearly being akin to childlike flirting; those who need something from the decision maker of the day sit at the meeting table with their overly prepared, dressed up presentation which when you strip it down, is often little more than ‘we need money for this’. The decision maker sits there with his inflated perception of himself like a king or emperor, as everyone awaits his thumb to indicate up or down.

But in the vast majority of cases, they don’t even dignify the requester with a response in person, instead waiting until they are safely huddled up in their office with the barrier of email. A fucking cowards escape. In the event of money becoming worthless one day for whatever reason, these cunts would have utterly nothing to offer the world.

One might read this & think ‘Oh Unjaded must have had a proposal rejected or some such & now he’s venting’. In fact, I’ve always had that side to me. I believe my teachers at school assessed my attitude as a ‘problem with authority’. I would rather describe it as ‘knowing no one is better than me’. But don’t get me wrong. I don’t believe I am better than anyone else either. We are but a product of our choices, external stimuli & privilege. All of these can be controlled or mitigated should you wish. No fucker is born any better than another, & we all have our talents.

There are too many protection methods for people these days. While I do actually advocate equal opportunities for all, I also support equal consequences for all. If someone in your job speaks or acts with you disrespectfully, your measured response should also be equally acceptable. I should be able to respond to him at the same level without recourse. Whatever is or isn’t acceptable should be applicable to all equally, for then people would further consider their actions because of consequence or retribution. As satisfying as it would be, I’m not suggesting I should be able to strike my manager in the face if I don’t like what he’s saying but what applies for one should apply for all. I worked in security for several years before starting in the corporate world & saw a few occasions where girls (admittedly, generally of a lower intellectual grade) thought themselves so invulnerable because of whatever illusions society or the media had impressed upon them, & decided to lash out & strike men. Fortunately for them, there was usually a white knight on hand to protect any response but I had seen a couple of occasions where they weren’t quite so lucky & the scorned man ‘replied’ in kind before making his escape. Let’s just say women quickly realise their physical limitations rapidly when a man repays the favour.

Let me just append the above by categorically stating that while I expect any person should expect an equal reaction to whatever action they choose to take, I have at no point encouraged, advocated or myself engaged in violent behaviour against women. I would however, actively use full non-lethal restraint techniques as required without hesitation however, for both women & men, in line with the concept of reasonable force in the defence of oneself.

One for the publishers of the eventual book adaptation there.

But this isn’t about violence, & never should it be. It is about understanding that while people should have the freedom & safety to express themselves freely, anything which genuinely impinges upon another’s normal state should be expected to have consequences. Those consequences should be equal in measure. I do believe (although not personally agree with) that controversial subjects should be allowed to be spoken about freely. I’m literally the least homophobic person on earth & I for example, believe if homosexual wish to celebrate that then they should be allowed. However, I believe that in the modernised Western world, there’s no longer a need for this to take place as a public event, simply because of the presence of children. Children should be taught that (continuing with the homosexuality example) whatever sexuality stance you choose, it is of little consequence & should be a personal matter. More important is the qualities that comprise being a good human being, regardless of your sexual preference or any other distinguishing criteria you were born with, inherited or discovered one day within yourself. One should not be promoted above another as more glamorous or acceptable than another, which is where reverse discrimination brings you.

The other day, I was getting changed in the gym locker room when a girl who works there comes in with a mop to clean up. I actually have absolutely no problem with that, assuming a man can also do the same going into the women’s locker room. I’m obviously not monitoring the situation but I’m assuming the male staff are not allowed to do the same in the female changing room. What’s the difference?

Much in the same way as there are women’s rights marches; the acceptance of both has taken place long ago in practical terms. You want to protest about women’s rights? Go to Saudi Arabia & state your case. That I would absolutely respect in a woman.

Equally, I wouldn’t tolerate someone making judgments upon my character based upon a perception they have of me. I remember watching this disgusting female who happened to also claimed to be a feminist hurling a torrent of vile slurs against a man whose only crime appeared to be being a man. He handled it incredibly well considering she spat in his face & physically assaulted him, her sure any retribution would be captured on camera & somehow manipulated into her being the victim. This type of behaviour is on a par with any of the worst forms of discrimination, such as racism. I can totally understand the aggression that ethnic minorities build up inside themselves when they’re treated in particular ways because of their colour or demeanor. I mean, an idiot is an idiot in any colour so we’ll put that aside, but I’ve seen it myself that some prefer those of their own creed. This results in a backlash in almost every situation.

And there we are: the backlash. In much the same way as the minority can feel compelled to revolt somehow after a lifetime of marginalisation, to how I start looking for another job because of how I’m treated by certain colleagues, through to how marriage rates & even relationship commitment is wildly spiraling downwards as men fail to see the upsides of long term commitment; any behaviour to shut down, harass, humiliate or prevent the expression of oneself without the harm of another without equal & fair measure to all, is only going to result in a stronger reaction later down the line.

~ Unjaded

Return Or Regret

Jang Jin-Ah; not everyone's taste but right the bang up my motherfucking street DAMN

Jang Jin-Ah; not everyone’s taste but right the bang up my motherfucking street DAMN

Having just spent four days with Venezuelan, again just after we leave I get a feeling of missing her. It’s a rather scary feeling, a weakness if you will. This feeling comes, despite her having a bad moment & regressing into some weak female stuff. Being sad about basically nothing. Upon parting however, everything was fine.

Sometimes, I’m no longer sure about what I want anymore. It sometimes feels like the only thing that drives me is banging new women. Sometimes, it can be incredible. Others, dull & tiresome. Equally, at times I feel very dynamic & accomplished when I’m alone but sad. Like what I mentioned before about having everything but yet, feeling dissatisfied. It’s quite tough switching between each persona every time I see Venezuelan & I wonder why I equate happiness, to self satisfaction & even weakness.

Somewhat aptly, this time I leave to get away from the worst place you’ve ever been & onward (or back, depending on how you look at it), to holiday & in the process, be visited by two other women, who have already professed tantamount to being in love with me. While I personally doubt this & think in at least the former case it’s simply the challenge or my means which are shrouding clear heads, I’ve taken it upon myself to arrange to meet The Greek & …BM-13.

The Greek I have mentioned in previous posts. Such called as when I was Jaded, I thought I was in love with this girl, as I cheated quite flagrantly on my girlfriend of the time with her. In reality, at that time she was little more than the hottest girl I’d banged in my life until then & so it was nothing more than infatuation. After she went back to Greece for the summer & told me she couldn’t see me anymore (which I later found out to mean ‘I have started to see someone else’), I’d worked myself into so much pain, that I vowed I’d never have anything to do with her again.

Roll on at least two relationships & a country later, & after she’d broke up with the same about twelve hours earlier, I’m fucking her senseless in the rich central European country after she makes her way over. Since then, she’s been suggesting again & again that we should get together somehow & be serious.

She’ll be wanting to fuck me tonight too, as she meets me in my holiday destination, having told her (new) boyfriend something about why she’s going, after she suggested she stay with me.

Do women like this actually expect to be taken seriously? Even if she does believe I’m something more special than anyone else she’s ever met, it’s only going to buy me more time in a relationship with her before the same happens to me? I firmly believe this. She’s even told me there’s nothing wrong with her current relationship & everything is good. Frankly, she is hot & we do get on, but I’m quite certain after this trip will be the end of her hoping for anything more. Not because I will be bad to her but simply because, I won’t entertain it any longer. While I’ll enjoy it for what it is & have my fun, after this it will be a chapter closed for me. This is as much the reason for me to go as any other. I need to see certain people who had a big effect on me in the past; now I have changed to who I now am. If I am going to go the full way with Venezuelan, then I have to do this.

Which brings us nicely to BM-13. Of all the women who have passed through my life, this (relatively) innocent young beauty totally changed the direction of my life; the first meeting with her permanently changing the dynamic of my relationship with the Mexican, to the point of it never being the same again & in the process of the following attempted (& deluded) reconciliation failing, that would lead me to where I am now.

I do remember being very enamored with BM-13 when we first met. And in fact, while she has since had a boyfriend who moved away since, I’d actually got back in touch with her about six weeks after being back with the Mexican. Looking back, I think that was really one of my lowest points, with the exception of the breakdown itself; when I’d realised I’d made a bad mistake in coming back to the worst place in the world, & should have in fact gone anywhere but. Somehow, that went on for another six months, before the infamous explosion. At the point when I got back in touch with BM-13, I was unquestionably sick in the head & my guilt being used against me to the point of me being manipulated daily. It was also the point where my subconscious started to sabotage things. What I didn’t realise then was, my subconscious was actually trying to get me out of a bad situation.

In two days, I’ll again return to the point & be with the person where two years ago, things inextricably changed & more importantly, I inextricably changed. While the process has been ongoing, there’s no question the ultimate fallout from that first meeting with BM-13 changed me greatly. And some might think I’m mad for going again, given the curcumstances & what happened last time.

But the process of changing from a Jaded relationship obligatory beta to who I am now, has been through my various experiences & experiments with women. Only through testing myself & doing, can I really know myself. And if the desire to see BM-13 exists, I should act upon it to see how I feel about it.

There will be no “what if’s” in my life; at least not as far as if I had a choice in what I could or could not do. Regardless of how much I care or feel for another, I must put myself first. It would be a lie to say I won’t enjoy the sexual experiences I may undergo with both these girls, but for me this means nothing. Or at least, I believe it will mean nothing. When all those experiences begin to mean nothing & I totally crave something of more challenge & depth, I know then I am ready to make my chosen person, the happiest partner in the world.

~ Unjaded

Actually, It’s Quite Easy Once You Realise They Were A Cunt

'Oh gosh, I hope she doesn't notice me'

‘Oh gosh, I hope she doesn’t notice me’

I said recently that hate, was a far more useful emotion in getting over someone, than when for example, you have to deal with guilt at the same time. This still stands true & that guilt, was the central cause of how I felt earlier in the year. Looking back, it was devastating but as with everything, has ultimately made me stronger.

The last couple of days have been very unusual for me. Coming back here, collecting my things & so on, was quite an emotional experience. I messaged & emailed The Mexican, with absolutely no response at all.

Looking back at those actions I took, I acted rashly. As with trading, any decision made in the throes of emotion is usually the wrong one. There will be a trigger, a person or circumstance that will initiate a emotive action, which once calmed, you’ll realise was the wrong one.

My recent one was placing a huge bet while my team was losing, for the score to remain the same. My (emotive) thinking was that if I had to suffer the ignominy of watching my team lose to a team they should clearly be beating, at the very least I’d make some money. There wasn’t much time left so the odds were short.

What happened? My team equalized (still a shit result) & I lost a large sum of money. I came back here, adjusting to the new routine of being alone, felt weakness, propositioned her that now everything was out, we could make a fresh start.

Two days later, I’ve thought about her & wondered to myself why the fuck I did anything of the sort. As I said long ago, I often thought about if how I was acting when we were apart (circa eighteen months ago) was immoral. I may have banged a whole bunch of women, but frankly, barely any of them meant anything to me. I was just succumbing to my most base carnal instinct as a man. I needed that.

She fucked her ex, & gave the excuse I wasn’t being a good boyfriend. And that justified her to fuck her ex. What a crock of shit.

I found the pictures on her laptop one day. I saw the whole scene develop through the medium of photographs, as she dressed somewhat provocatively, played up on the camera as they drank champagne in the park & ultimately, as the frequency of the photos reduced, here getting more & more drunk, to the point of her fucking her ex.

To be honest, it’s true I wasn’t a great boyfriend then. I think I was even still banging EEP. But none of these reasons justifies those actions. For all she knew, I was the entirely faithful boyfriend. Nothing is a justification for fucking someone else. You do it because you want to. She should have just broke up with me. She did this after fucking him (presumably out of guilt, although perhaps being fucked badly ‘opened her eyes about us’ or some shit).

Then I, having no idea about what had happened, practically begged her to be with me again! She thought we could ‘try again’ & so we got back together again, me entirely unaware as to what had transpired.

She broke up with me at Christmas time, which was funny because I was banging the White Russian in my apartment, had to go downstairs to answer the phone privately, tell her if that was her decision then I’m not going to change her mind, & then went back upstairs to continue banging.

Funnily enough, that’s the second time that’s happened to me in my life. The first time it happened when I was at my first university (oh, how I wish I would have started that blog back then!), the girl called me back to ensure I’d understood, after which I again went back upstairs to banging the other girl.

The girl who finished with me when this first happened to me, then carried on fucking on & off, for the next almost ten years. She only stopped being in contact with me last year. Some women really are a fucking joke sometimes.

If I could give one piece of advise to any young man, it’s this. There are good women out there. If a girl falls in love with you, don’t be brazen or flippant about it because they’ll probably do anything for you.

But if you have doubts, or a feeling something is going on, or you note they’re acting even slightly differently, whatever you’re thinking probably has truth to it. It’s then you have to let the woman play it out. Don’t dig. Don’t act like you give a shit. Just being normal, a little colder perhaps. They’ll eat themselves up.

If a girl breaks up with you, even if you’re fucking devastated inside, don’t show even a trace of emotion. Just say ‘OK, ‘understood’ or similar. From that point on, you owe that woman nothing at all. Continue with your life, however you wish it to be (banging other women or pursuing better interests) & pay no heed to whatever they do. That person no longer deserve you & must earn your favour again, should they ever want anything from you again.

The time might have some variance but I guarantee you; they’ll be in touch again. Then you can do whatever brings you more satisfaction; fuck them, fuck them about, get back with them or my personal favourite, tell them how fucking great your life is.

A man who puts his ability to love, create, give & protect into himself is a truly powerful & terrifying thing. The confidence & ability, as well as the material gains, make lesser man desire their fall from grace, makes women want to prove no man can be greater than them (look at how many women love fucking married men, to justify their cynical attitudes about men generally) & generally makes them envied; sometimes to the point of hatred.

To love yourself as a man, is the most powerful thing you can do. Do it.

The Mexican used to regularly claim she loved me from the day we met. But yet she had a boyfriend (the aforementioned ex, who she’d cheated on two or three times already) & crucially, made the conscious decision to meet with a French guy, which she got massively drunk with & then had sex with.

I found the pictures of all of them. The ex is a total muppet. The two French guys she met (yes, there was her & two French guys in the photo), were also useless cunts. She was riding on a wave up until then, of being in a massively male dominated environment, all of whom were socially inadequate dickheads, desiring the girl with the big fake breasts. She was on a crest of being the desired girl in the office, riding her way through a series of terrible lays with those who got drunk enough with her to gain the balls to make a move. She even admitted to me that almost all of the sex she’d had in her life was shit, & given her utterly terrible bedrooms skills & never had an proper orgasm with a man in her life, I find this entirely believable. Much in the same way she desired to be the centre of attention on her beloved social media, the main attraction of sex for her, was the desire of the man to fuck her.

I don’t think she fucked both the French guys on the day she ‘fell in love with me’. She did one for sure (bad enough) but she made the decision to meet them in the first place. I don’t doubt for a second she loved the attention from both of them, especially as we’d kissed earlier that day. When I was considering breaking up with her to be with Venezuelan  before the recent fallout, I took the time to take copies of the day she fucked her ex, & the two pictures of her posing with the two French guys. I also had a couple of pictures of her she’d asked me to take of her, wearing her small black dress. She looked very satisfied with herself in that picture, & also in the pictures with the French guys. What a great day for her.

I also found a sex video we’d made, purely coincidentally the first time we’d had sex after we’d got back together & she’d fucked her ex. Perfectly, you can see her conflicted between her enjoying being fucked but also struggling a bit with the idea she had become a bit of a whore, as she fucked me a mere week or so after her ex. No doubt in some way she loved that too though.

She told me the day after she fucked the French dude, she was so disgusted with herself she showered for a couple of hours & cut her hair.

Good. Fucking good.

With genuine clarity of vision now, I can say wholeheartedly; I don’t regret a thing I did to her. She deserved everything she got.

I truly believe everything happens for a reason. I don’t think she’s a bad person, but she got a little too arrogant. Thought she was the real shit. Being with me, she thought I’d be one of these pussy ass bitches who would think she’s the hottest thing to ever enter my life. Perhaps in the beginning I still was a little.

But I went to central Europe & realised what was really possible in life.  I discovered myself, learnt, empowered myself & took full advantage of it. I concentrated on myself. I had many experiences, & instead of being in relationship after relationship as we are constantly told we should be, I went my own way & had sexual experiences that were quite frankly, incredible for the most part. This was an important phase in my life I had to undergo & at no point, would I make excuses for my actions. Even in the final email to The Mexican, I made admissions without any excuse other than sexual addiction (which I genuinely think I have had at times).

She met me, someone she couldn’t control. The steady stream of office parasites & drunk idiots continued their stream of attention towards her, which she always needed in some form. But they were of their own undoing; as with many people these days, they become competent in one area & become complacent. I am strong. I am smart. I am rich. I am an artist. The stupid among us are those who believe they are complete, & each of these self catagorisations carries with it a stereotype, that, if you wish to place this role upon yourself, you are expected to fulfill that too. The artist has no love for sport. The muscular guy is content to be seen as unintelligent & so on.

I am multi faceted, because I never waver in my pursuit of self improvement. I may have been distracted or confused, but this has always existed in some way & as time went on, she realised I was not of the usual stock. As each situation was concluded, she noted my strength. Even during the meltdown of April, by then I had already built up value in her mind to overcome me telling her I fucked someone else.

I remember the day she was asking me about BM-13At the time, the words split out of my mouth. I almost reveled in telling her I’d also fucked someone. Almost sickeningly as I think back to it, I wanted to see her reaction from me doing exactly what she had done to me. It was almost satisfying knowing how I handled it, was far superior to her handling it.

Now, she’ll probably fuck a few guys & then get together with the parasite. She’ll pretend she’s happy & he won’t believe his luck. But in reality, she’ll never forget me & only stay with him because he’s the ‘safe option’. He’ll be shit in bed & she won’t mind, but ultimately it will be the same as French Algerian – she’ll cheat on him one day.

And trust me when I say, no matter what, one day she’ll get back in touch with me. It might take years of marriage, kids, a divorce even. But she will. And when she does, I’ll suggest having a bottle of champagne in the park, going to a bar & then back to my place.

And I’ll enjoy every second of fucking the shit out of her. Watching her adore every second of it. Knowing all the while how the parasite is back at home, wondering where his ‘love’ is tonight.

This is the last time I’ll write about The Mexican. Now, a new chapter begins.

~ Unjaded

Addendum: I read this post back to myself the morning after I wrote it. I realised it is full of hate & much of it justified. But I would be lying if I said I hadn’t loved The Mexican. In fact, once she’d absolved her own guilt & we’d moved in again, things were actually pretty nice. Plus I do regret that she found out as she did; but then perhaps I would have still been too cowardly to make a decision even now. In any case, although much of what I’ve written I do believe wholeheartedly, those two points are still pertinent. I guess it’s just part of getting over someone.