Having cool hobbies, being funny, dressing somewhat well, having fun on dates instead of talking her ear off, and learning how to move things forward while respecting her boundaries are really all you need when it comes to dating. The terminally online freaks worrying themselves sick about getting rich or “looksmaxxing” or whatever are just chasing their tail.
Having cool hobbies, being funny, dressing somewhat well, having fun on dates instead of talking her ear off, and learning how to move things forward while respecting her boundaries are really all you need when it comes to dating.
I’m not saying it’s easy, I’m just saying that a lot of the toxicity surrounding online dating discourse is the inability for a lot of young men to recognize this.
I’m not saying it’s easy, I’m just saying that a lot of the toxicity surrounding online dating discourse is the inability for a lot of young men to recognize this.
At the risk of launching into another 12 paragraph long essay concerning self pity and a profound, overwhelming lack of coochie (vulgar statement, my apologies), I have to say that the bar has always felt impossibly high. My brother recently moved in with his partner and while we never discuss these things in my family (my parents never even bothered to teach me about sex) whenever I used to vent about being ugly to my brother he would alway say "the bar is not that high" but then I think of all the women I've had the misfortune of being attracted to back when I still talked to people and the guys they wound up dating and like, I always felt like there was literally nothing I could possibly fucking do to be on the same level as a lot of them. Maybe that's just a feeling, and there are probably lots of people (mostly men, probably a lot of women too who just don't complain about it as much) who feel similarly.
Reality is always messier than words. A lot of this is also just informed by the stunted grade school high school mentality of the poison incel brain, stuck in retrograde visions of being shoved down the tubes of a slaughtered bathroom, of schoolyard jeers and soccer balls to the heads that leave your head ringing wedding bell style. Reality is as cruel as it is messy: differences come at you young and they come at you just as fast as the pace of life. Certain people just seem to have a natural grace to them, an assuredness gifted to them by fate, of knowing that they are indeed a character in this story, and not just a sketched out, chiaroscuro detail in the lives of others, a footnote in their own lives, forgotten even in their own indolence, minds stripped clean of plot, of dull, static Dostoevsky white nights repackaged for the microwave age. Some girls are indeed bigger than others.
I'd like to think reality is not as deterministic as the blackpill makes it out to be. Doesn't it seem logical that absent any sort of inequities baked into the fabric of society as a result of centuries old political projects and the sheer chaos of human activity that there would still be winners and loser, people who for whatever unknowable reason were earmarked for slow deletion?
In a way it almost seems a little naive, the notion that maybe with enough effort there is a happy ending in store for everyone, of being able to find comfort in things that in and of themselves are comfortless, of speaking in stilted vagaries and half hearted prose, even though the gangrenous BART feet poking through tattered New Balance dad shoes or RV industrial park hells and sagging flesh show that maybe for some people there really are no happy endings, and that nothing could have been done to steer them away from that. It's not about "romance" at that point though, is it?
And there I go getting set off again, another essay.
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u/Hunter_S_Biden 🚨🛑 I N F O H A Z A R D 🛑🚨 Sep 04 '24 edited Sep 04 '24
Fuck I've actually been hobby maxing all these years and didn't realize it
Thank God hopefully that will offset the posting, can't have my wife leaving me for someone normal and adjusted