There’s never was any hope for Humpty DumptyDecember 8, 2012
Let me ask you a question.
If a woman is raped.. how long does it take for her to get ‘back on the horse’ as it were? Does she get berated with things like
- you’re really bitter and resentful about it
- you gotta let it go if you want to move forward and find a good man
- you’ll always be alone with that attitude
- you’ll never get a man if you treat him as guilty from the start
- your hate and mistrust will keep you from finding happiness
I don’t think so. I think it’s common for everyone to put on their sensitivity cloaks and say yes.. this woman suffered a massive trauma, from which it will take her a very long time to heal and will have difficulty trusting in the gender that she projects as her tormentor The expectation would always be on the man, any man, to be sensitive to her with regards to her mistrust of sexual intimacy and allow her time to regain a trust that was so violently shattered.
It would be stupid to say this woman never wants to feel intimacy with a member of the opposite sex because of the way she responds to external stimuli at this very moment. Just because she recoils at touch now does not mean she never wants to be touched again. She just needs time, therapy and a patient person to be there to help her work through and resolve the matter of regaining trust. Even after all of that it will be an uphill battle.
This expectation only goes in one direction.
There’s a reason why i used rape as an analogy in my incel post. Because the effects of isolation and dehumanization are as traumatic and far reaching.
In a world where every woman wants her ReadyMadeMan™ right out of the box, where he leaves all his baggage at the curb, is absolutely confident, awesome and amazing in every way, 24 hours a day, without any problems of his own to prevent him from taking her on the wild adventure in her mind and life simultaneously thus providing her with the entitlement fantasy she’s yearned for since childhood in becoming either a fairy tale princess or being chosen by a thousand year old Vampire to become his Vampiress (of all the thousands of women he could choose over his lifetime)…
…well there’s no room in there for someone like me now is there.
While i’ve been in LIMBO, it came to me as an epiphany that i will never have a healthy relationship.
I’m too damaged and will not be given the opportunity to heal this wound or given time to regain trust. Perhaps it may have been possible when i was still blue pill. Not now.
It came to me when my friend invited me over to a gathering of her relatives. They all talked about me heading to Poland and picking up with a Polish girl to wife up, not fucked up in the head like those crazy ‘North American’ girls, etc.. and in the back of my mind i realized i’m too far gone. I have nothing to offer a non-crazy woman as they described.. because the experiences of the past and the sphere’s teaching to me have dissuaded me from becoming just another cog in the feminine imperative. I’m MGTOW. I’m not going to get married. I’m not going to have kids. And i’m too old. I’d need a minimum of 5 years with someone to get to feel that we were good together and that the relationship was solid and that she followed the Captain/First Officer model. That would make me 42-43 if i met her tomorrow. Sorry, i don’t want to be a dad after 40. And i’m not about to jump into a relationship just to be a dad 6 months later. No. No. NO.
But beyond that.. i can’t even have a ‘normal’ relationship with any woman.. especially here in North America. My defenses are always on high. My finger is always on the trigger. I’m ready to verbally murder a woman with redpill and manosphere knowledge at the very first sign of a woman behaving in even 1 degree of deviation from red pill thought. It’s why i recused myself from debating at Hooking Up Smart. The female imperative is my *trigger* alert.
I carry too much baggage. Too much has happened to me throughout my bluepill life. 12 years of being alone for being one of those nasty NiceGuys™. A marriage gone to pieces because i ‘did right by my wife’ and lost the attraction.** I’ve been betrayed and violated at every turn. Everything i trusted was used against me. The sphere has opened my eyes to such injustices and inequalities happening every day that are accepted by bluepill society as easily as breathing. You can never go back knowing what you know.
To such blind ignorance of basic human evolution and biology by women (feminists), such a complete lack of understanding how the human species operates at the basic level. Actions/consequences, not just for yourself but how it affects everyone else down the ladder. A super quick example of this is ‘slut shaming’. Feminists tell us this is wrong. So answer me this. Imagine if tomorrow, every woman became a slut for a month. Who wins? Who loses? What happens to our society? And how much closer are we to that concept today with the irresponsible hypersexualization of girls today than we were 45 years ago?
Think on it.
If i had the time and patience to enumerate and itemize the thousand ways that current actions are leading to the downfall of man i’d do so, but a quick scan of any number of sphere blogs will show you that it simply boils down to 2 things.
- women’s choices drive mens counter-reactions
- a lack of accountability and responsibility to that great power
This isn’t about blaming hypergamy or what women find attractive. It’s about following that attraction off a cliff and the consequences everyone else in greater society has to endure with it. It’s about women placing the highest measure of value on men who have no interest in them beyond emptying their nuts into her vagina. They assign this high value to men they choose to have sex with.
I remember having an argument with Susan Walsh about abortion and she always fell back on the ultimate concept that biologically speaking, women’s reproduction via few eggs is deemed valuable whereas a man blowing billions of disposable sperm is not. Biologically women hold all the power! (The power to CHOOSE) And with great power comes great responsibility. Since time began we always placed rules and restrictions on those with power so they would not abuse it.
“Oh but it’s not fair that all the responsibility should be shouldered by the woman, it takes 2 to tango, why is it always the woman’s responsibility to be accountable for what happens after sex?”
Because of biology. Because you get saddled with the kids for 9 months, the great power of your reproductive system gives you the evolved sensibilities to make sure who you mate with will be there for you if pregnancy will ensue. With that great power comes that great responsibility. Abdicating it because feminists tell you you should doesn’t mean you should. The feminist drive for abortions is to use technology to fight biology. To remove more responsibility. But you evil bastards.. you keep your dicks in your pants if you’re not going to take responsibility for your bits of bone and tissue.. err.. kids!
What you see today is a world without those restrictions. And the results are as inevitable as gravity pulling you back down to earth, painfully, from a great height and a sickening thud. And i am the end result.
I apologize if i got sidetracked.. it just went there.
Deti is right. I am the extreme response to the ‘where have all the good men gone’ articles. Women’s choices to flaunt their power, ignoring guys like me who were ready to ‘man up’ and commit and provide… to reward the men who won’t, end up creating people like me. People who really wanted commitment and a real relationship. But only when it counted. That time has passed.
So what does someone like me do at this point?
There is no way i can broach any of this with a woman in the real world. I can’t even talk about it with women i have no interest in, much less someone i’d be romantically interested in. I could never be able to discuss any of this without evoking the hair trigger of that woman taking all this personally. Even mere mention of it on my blog had already drawn criticism of it being ‘unattractive’. Just another one of those sit down, shut up and deal with it silently on your own type of things men have to deal with in silence. Guess that explains the suicide rate.
After having my eyes opened to a horrifying world that is 180 degrees opposite of everything i was taught and held dear, with no sign of change whatsoever, people are still advising the proverbial rape victim to get over it, get back on the horse and get back out there and don’t bring your ‘issues’ with you.
I would feel re-victimized committing to a woman with a high partner count making me relive 12 years that no woman, especially a carousel rider could ever understand. I would feel the need to go out and fuck a number of women equal to ‘match her number. After all it’s only sex right? Those men you fucked meant nothing to you back then right? So these women i’d fuck right now wouldn’t mean anything to me so it shouldn’t matter to you either right? In fact, if you cared, you’d help wingman me into the panties of a number of women equal to the number of men you had so that we could be together knowing we both fully enjoyed and explored all life had to offer and never feel like we missed out on anything right? You understand don’t you!?!?
I caught an episode of Family guy today that reminded me of a video project i did for my best friend who was my best man at my wedding. The episode was about Carter and Barbara Pewterschmidt, reliving their memories together in a photo album. Photos of them as teens and young adults. This reminded me about the 10 year wedding anniversary video i made for my best friend. I remember going through over 600 digital photos of them in different places and locales. Fun times, happy moments, different points in life. And so young. That hit me hard. My friend is 3 years younger than me, and he has a lifetime of memories with his wife from when they dated as youngsters, growing together, good times and bad, but fought for each other to be where they are today. I envy them so much, even when i do see them completely exhausted and hear the horror stories of waking up at 6:30am to feed the kids and stuff.
Then i remembered something Dalrock wrote long ago. Rejoice in the wife of your youth. Guess what.. i’ll not be rejoicing fuck’all. Another reason why i simply refuse to pick up anyone with any expectation of marriage. I read all these profiles of 30+ year old women on PoF stating they want to get married. No memories.. no bonds. Ready for your next divorce, step right up.
I don’t trust in their ability to fight for love over the long haul, especially when shit gets tough. It’s too easy to quit in a disposable society, a selfish ‘all about me’ society. I will always see them visualizing greener grass. I see women as the real commitment-phobes. I see women chasing after the shiny things they can’t have.
So there ya go.. all that shit i just wrote up here ^^^^ is just a fraction of all the garbage i have floating in my soul.
I’m too broken, and there is no prospect of a woman who will stick around to ‘understand’ where i come from and reflect on how they exist within my new reality. There is no woman who will help nurture me through this, to allow me to regain trust. There is no woman who will tolerate it, deal with it, give me any allowances. There is no woman who will give me the time and patience to prove to me NAWALT.
Because women are the choosers and men are the chasers. And women will not choose a broken man. Not unless you hide it from them to find later. They’d probably find that attractive…
And even if there was a unicorn capable of that.. i have nothing to offer. No promise of children or last chance express. No desire to be a beast of burden or utility. No desire to enter into fields of backbreaking labor to provide for a home full of trinkets, junk and endless consumerism and debt spending just to keep up with the ‘jones’s’. No interest in being a Patriarch, a father, a provider. All those went down the drain along with the fish who didn’t need a bicycle.
Seriously. I can just see how a date would go down. Me and some woman sitting on a patio:
Her: So what do you do for a living.
Me: …money’s all that matters to you you materialistic bitch!?!?!
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ (/’ \) <—- that’s me tossing the table in case you can’t read ascii
So i’ve made the choice to go dark. I’m going to start back out on the path that worked in the past, and cut my craft gaming strippers. This should be orders of magnitude easier than in the past since i know have a much better understanding of game, woman’s nature and a superior physique to my last go at it. Once i’m satisfied with them, i’ll branch out to other non-relationship types to fill my basket with. Perhaps some nice young feminist types who aren’t looking for a relationship or commitment. Now they would be great to go dark triad on. Hopefully they won’t get too attached to me lol. At least with strippers there won’t be any expectations of a budding romance leading to something more. Perhaps i’ll find a way to enjoy giving great orgasms to women i am not in love with. The softness of a woman’s skin clashing with the hardness of her clear plastic heels digging into your back is as powerful a motivator as any.
Better them than ‘good girls’ who pass me over for the douchebag and get jackhammered Tucker Max style. I’ve always said.. women deserve the orgasms they get. They pass on the ones who would worship their bodies, but give themselves over to those who are used to using their bodies as living fleshlights. Preselection.. i’m surprised women never figured it out. If a guy has girls all over him, what do you possibly have to offer to make him change his ways? Stupid. You know what a guy like that says when he bags another vapid woman who thinks she’s somehow special?
We’ll see where the darkness takes me.
So yeah.. i’m broken. I truly required the love of a good woman to fix me. To be supportive, understanding, tolerant and nurturing. To get me to believe again, to get me to trust.
And that ain’t gonna happen in my lifetime.
I freely admit i’m out of options and have run out of hope for attaining anything meaningful in the sense that i wanted it, that bluepill version. The redpill forced me to accept my new reality and deal with it as best i can. Being without hope is dangerous. It will take you to the darkest recesses of your mind and you’ll see yourself being capable of things, horrible things you normally wouldn’t do. You try and look for the silver lining in it all…
On the plus side… i’ll never have to deal with this ever again.
If any of the ladies reading this can offer me an alternative suggestion, im all ears. Until then.. i’ll be trying to take the ladies back to the champagne room.. which is what i call my bedroom.
[**] I just want to make a point here that at this point in time i no longer harbor any resentment, hate or ill will towards my ex wife. I can almost say with 100% certainty, and im tempted to ask her the next time i see her, what her views of feminism are, that she would agree with me it fucked her over, primarily in how it created me to be so incompatible to her. Her daddy issues also made her a prime candidate to be taken into the cult of feminism to have it all. Given what she told me at the end, about needing someone to put her in her place, to be kept in line, telling me i should have been a tiger and not a rabbit.. what she wanted was Patriarchy. Not barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen BS, but most definitely Athol K style Captain/First Officer model. She certainly did not want equality the way feminism demands. Feminism fucked us both up. I own it. I’m pretty sure she would own hers if i articulate it to her.
Let me put it another way. I have an easier time interacting with my exwife now than i do speaking with a certain feminist i deal with regularly who tries to speak for the majority of women even tho she’s admitted to be a minority in the female community. (bisexual) Having said that… adding to my mystification.. my feminist cohort is growing on me slightly. Daily interactions with her, when she is pleasant, kind and understanding (read FEMININE) she’s actually fun to be around. It’s only when she begins to use the language of feminism (creepy/consent/misogyny) and shows an absolute inability to comprehend fun flirty behavior (see this comment here on TPM) it’s like watching a computer reboot after a system crash and return to belching out it’s ‘programming’ as intended. It adds to my disillusion.
Lastly, i have so much written up in drafts, and all of it feels unfinished, unimportant, unneeded. The quality of stuff coming out of the sphere has made me feel like i got nothing to offer except hopelessness and despair. But then again, it’s where i live.