The Beautiful Past

Wise & generally true words from Mark Rippetoe; strength of mind also counting here…

As much as the fire within me seeks to push myself onwards to explore & breach ever new limits, it comes at a price. When almost everything is demanding of my time & energy, then becomes the time where I question what I am doing. It’s more often the case with things I must do, rather than choose to do. When I’m at work & people are complaining at me because of the mistakes of others in the past or as a result of bad managerial decisions, it’s then where my sense of self begins to rise up & question why. Why I should sit there & accept levels of disrespect about things which ultimately are of no consequence. People losing their shit over a report not being generated when species of animals around the world are becoming extinct & corporations try ever more ways to gain more control over us until we become the perfect consumers.

Contrast that with the endless amounts of energy you will find within yourself when you discover & participate in something where there is a marked goal & you feel part of a group where you are making tangible progress. Sleepless or hungry, somehow you might even not realise you need those things, so consumed are you from enjoying what you are doing,

The only consistent cost one will find, is whatever you do, you will miss something. There is always the opportunity cost. And while the grass is indeed often seemingly greener on the other side & nostalgia will always be viewed more positively than it really was, there is a lot of truth to the fact that many of the things we have, or indeed have had; will one day no longer be there.

The relationship you have with your parents, your partner or even something as simple as a pet you care for, will all one day be gone or even taken from you. As I sit there, toiling away upon something for no other reason than financial reward, I think about the passing minutes & how I could be wasting them. What else I could be doing. Who else I could be spending time with. What other goal I could be working towards.

Because in the end, it’s those same simple things that will have made your life worth living.

~ 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.

Abusing Power

And who watches me while I watch out for who watches those who watch the watchmen??

And who watches me while I watch out for those who are watching for who watches the watchmen??

It’s been said for many years, in many different ways across the globe. But essentially the message is always the same; ‘give a man power & he will show you his true character’.

I really should’ve written this post last night, but as I laid next to the young Turkish Receptionist who I’d spent the last day & a half with, & finished having sex with for the forth time that day, the circumstances didn’t allow it. I could’ve been ignorant of this & written it anyway but I respected her. She was like BM-13; doing her best in this all consuming capitalist world of ours.

It’s not to say she didn’t benefit from my visit too; it was mutually enjoyable for both of us. But as I looked at her warm eyes & genuine smile looking up at me, I realised what a difference there is between girls such as her, BM-13 & even YAU, & the insufferable morons that surround us in the Western world.

I noticed during my stay that although Turkish people are generally very reasonable & helpful, some of the Turkish people working in the airport for example, actually spoke to people quite patronisingly. And the only reason they do must be because of the way Westerners must conduct themselves while on vacation there. While you are susceptible to a certain level of being taken advantage especially in a country where you don’t speak the local language, some people on vacation there are a fucking embarrassment.

The three women I mentioned earlier are similar to this. Hardworking & honest, achieving & living their lives while conducting their relations with men with dignity. But in return, they don’t expect some pathetic excuse at masculinity to be mincing around, under control of his wife like a dog. They expect the man to take control, accumulate & wield power as required, & overall, to be respected.

While these are of course generalisations of entire countries & I’ve no doubt there are numerous exceptions, this is evident in some of the cultures I have seen in my travels; Turkish, Russian, Georgian & to a slightly lesser extent, Greek & Lithuanian. And embarrassingly absent in places such as Scandinavia, UK, Switzerland & Germany. And the incompatibilities of a person interacting in a different environment are clear. While I don’t advocate the striking of women unless in self defence, the face of the matter is this action will be perceived entirely differently in the UK to Russia for example.

When I was thinking about this writing this post last night, I felt as though perhaps I was actually going through a realisation; that I was in fact moving beyond just going around the world sleeping with different nationalities. Perhaps a part of me is changing. I am at the point now where I believe given correct circumstance & being in a prime mental state, I can ultimately seduce the vast majority of woman to whom I am attracted.

But it’s the very nature of that, exactly the same as when I first became more wealthy & debt free, that makes it begin to lose it’s allure to me. Once again, the process of self discovery & progression feels at this stage, complete for now. Frankly, as much as I enjoyed the time I spent with Turkish Receptionist on both the personal & sexual level, I again questioned what the fuck I’m doing here at all.

Of my remaining four girls on the final leg of the tour, one is getting divorced & messaged me yesterday to tell me how ‘would I mind if we didn’t have sex’, another has somehow found Main’s old blog & started levelling accusations at me & the remaining two are Verman & YAU,¬†both of whom I was originally looking forward to seeing.

As I’ve said before, it will be upsetting not to see YAU. But she’s already said she’s going back to Ukraine or Russia this year, so it’s inevitable. Verman was pretty much a guaranteed & hot lay, but again oh well. I’m not going to go to another country to wait around for the best part of two days when I need to get my shit together to sort out the next contract. Meeting these girls & the three¬† I mentioned earlier has mainly made me realise they’re not all cunts. Going back three years, this is essential knowledge for me & worth every penny of a wasted flight or hotel room. I’ve had enough.

To the point where I have cancelled the last leg of the ‘Three Five Six’ tour (making it a ‘Two Four Two’ instead) & decided to go back home again. I’ve spent the best part of the last three fucking years dealing with being away from them & it’s rapidly becoming clear it’s likely to happen again soon.

Sure, I lost a bit of money on flights & hotels but frankly, I couldn’t give a shit. I can always make money. Being next to my family for a few more days is worth more than that.

~ Unjaded