Skip to main content

Thoughts on life

I think being drunk is a kind of clarifier for the mind. It removes all inhibition and allows you to be your true self, even if that self is chaotic and damaging. Im never more lucid, yet befuddled, than when Im tipsy. I have less than 10% bodyfat, and I don’t drink regularly, so one shot of whiskey, particularly on an empty stomach, is enough to send me careening over the edge. Yes, I am a self-professed lightweight, and damn proud of it. Some people may talk shit, calling me a bitch or whatever, but given that their beer guts could double as hammocks if hollowed out, I think Ill be forgiven for saying that I don’t give a damn. In my personal experience, which I can say without one bit of braggadacio is quite extensive, the girl wants the fit guy who succumbs to inebriation after a few shots over the corpulent frat boy who’s only claim to fame is the ability to shotgun a 6-pack. He can keep his 6-pack while mine is being licked by whatever female strikes my fancy at that particular moment. The stomach itself is only ornamentation, a pitstop on the way towards her final destination. While I enjoy the discretionary pleasure of a fine young woman, my alcoholic friend is ending another night in the embrace of his brothers. In this particular instance, I can say that I enjoy loneliness. When talking to women, a certain level of intoxication can be beneficial. Anyone who’s been in the field for more then 5 minutes can attest to the fact that vibing with a woman is the most important aspect of any interaction. At the venue you choose, youre practically guaranteed a bevy of potential lays drinking alcohol, so it would behoove you to mirror their behavior, at least on the surface level. However, this is a very narrow line to balance on. Too far towards the path of snobbish sobriety and you’re all but guaranteed to be the wet blanket, weighing down the alcohol infused joviality of the room with your prudish abstinence from the festivities. On the other hand, if you partake to the point of gluttony, your chances of female companionship vanish as fast as your fine motor skills. If she is tipsy and you’re incompetent, incoherent and impotent, but socially and physically, you will inspire feelings of repulsion in her usually reserved for rapists and stalkers. The key is to find and inhabit a happy medium between the 2 extremes. Imbibe enough alcohol to depress your fears, suppress your inhibitions, and amplify your charismatic features. Be flirtatious and aggressive without being seedy and clingy. This is hard to write about because its more a state of mind than a set of skills that can be mastered. It can only be attained through constant grinding away in your relative social scene. Brandish your weapons and obliterate your boundaries. The work will be hard. You will toil, sometimes ecstatically, the majority of the time miserably. But the rewards? A bevy of fresh, nubile young women to peruse and enjoy, to love and be loved by. This promise is worth more than its weight in diamonds, gold and platinum to me. If it doesn’t appeal to you in the same sense, I cant say anything to sway you. Just know that life, in all of its vibrancy and struggle, is lived in the midst of others, not trembling in the attic of your own head.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shameless IG Plug

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjCacWplX6FygVNS5qOdcWnQRGLOPC3DlvI18o0/

We exist in a world where it seems every skill, talent or gift, no matter how esoteric or seemingly inapplicable, can, through the bittersweet, pyrrhic blessing of social media, be monetized, commodified and capitalized upon. I harbor no unrealistic goals, because realism has become hyperreal. I live a simple life, one that appears to have placed me at odds with the world's status quo. Good, fuck them. Take happiness where you can grasp and steal it, whether it's by drinking overpowering, ironically cheap beer with great friends, screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs for the shock value, or doing feats of strength on public benches. In my case, everything is words and handstands. The rest is irrelevant. Forever flawed. Forever rebellious.

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature.
I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life.
Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters.
I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically minded elders.
I plan to drift, languid but controlle…

The Desert

The Desert



Dry air in a normally humid climate is not conducive to a strong immune system. The shock is sudden and violent on an unseen level, I'm sure.

I never thought I'd suffer from stifling congestion and repetitious fits of coughing while stationed in Hawaii, but I was proven wrong recently.

As I pen this, my throat, though healed and no longer reacting in an incendiary manner when forced to swallow, is as arid and barren as the Mojave.

My chest is harboring a veritable barricade of mucus, and each pill I pop, in hues of rose red, ocean blue and grass green, chip away at bricks of the stubborn, phlegmatic stowaways.

My nose is on the brink of suicide, and breathing in coats each gust of air with a Welcome Aboard package of sandpaper and gravel.

In short, I'm fucked.

Yesterday I spent half the evening limping around wincing, my side cramped by an invisible knife, present and piercing, jostling with each aching step.

Save for a few meandering sets and reps performed to…