Most people spend their lives pursuing love.
It’s definitely a pleasant experience to be in love with someone.
It’s mystical, like being in heaven, completion.
One of the ultimate euphorias.
As you know, I’ve mentioned before that I’d like to eventually settle down, have my own family.
The whole white-picket fence, suburban neighborhood, house-wife, nuclear family, and what not.
It seems nice on the surface, but I’ve been slowly realizing that it’s, actually, not all what it’s made out to be.
Love, the majority of the time I’d say, is really just lust in disguise.
Ask yourself this (guys): would you stick at your woman’s side, if she was seriously burnt in a house fire, which left
her face and entire body disfigured? Would your passion for her still rage?
Ask yourself this (ladies): would you stick at your man’s side, if he lost his job, became homeless and broke?
Would you continue at his side, regardless of the social embarrassment and hardship of poverty? Would you remain at his side, even if
all his efforts to get back in track didn’t work out, due to external factors, bad luck?
How this so called profound “love” can be extinguished, when things get difficult. Wonder why most marriages don’t last?
This is because it’s not really love, it’s lust, lust with ice-cream sprinkles on top of it, concealing it for what it really is underneath.
Most people get married, because it’s a marker of social status - their way of saying " I made it! Look! I’m successful!", or simply
because of fairy-tale idealisms of living happily ever after, riding into the sunset…only to be scorched by the rays of the ugly truth underlying
it all. For this reason, I just keep my relationships with women casual. It’s much better, actually; multiple sex-partners, no relationship drama,
no strings attached, and no beating around the bush, straight to business — fuck buddies, friends with benefits. No need to sugar-coat it.
So many males, and females, for that matter, spend their lives desperately pursuing this thing called “love”.
It’s really just weakness, softness, a warm blanket meant to comfort feeble-minds from the icy-coldness of reality.
Real men, tough men, do not pursue “love”, like these skinny-jean wearing effeminate morons of today.
Tough men pursue power, not love. Power is their telos, not this lovey-dovey romantic bullshit.
(This is something that will be discussed further in my upcoming e-book.)
Having a son would certainly be nice, to be able to raise him the way I was not, to teach him the things I wish I could have learned,
to raise him to be a lil’ badass. But I digress.
Life is brutal and a brutal mind-set is required.
You have to be one tough mother-fucker, in order to endure reality as it truly is, to stand there in the blizzard of hard-fact, shivering;
yet smirking, taunting it, telling it to “bring it on!” and " Is that all you got?".
I’ve never been a conformist; I’ve always stayed true to myself.
For this reason, I am a lone-wolf. No real friends. I have my sex-partners, but they are only good for one thing: fucking.
And I have no problem with that. I am my own best friend, I don’t need peer-approval, a yuppie-lifestyle, nor “love”.
Rejecting conventional values and lifestyles leaves one on the periphery, in the outer-darkness, in the cold.
But such tough conditions, such a tough environment makes one even tougher, and this I embrace.
Bring it on
Power and strength are my aim.
I leave you with these:
