My Sexy Black Girlfriend
Become Yourself
A few years ago, I formed friendships on the basis of right-wing politics. I’ve written about this abundantly, maybe too much.
It’s generally not productive to dwell on specific tragedies. We lost the forest for the trees. By focusing too much on particular details, the important lessons of life get missed.
One can endlessly litigate every argument, every disagreement, but what matters at the end of the day is much deeper. Trust.
If you trust someone, you can argue in good faith. You can be charitable. You can try to see their point of view. But when trust is gone, all you have left is attachment. This is a hellish experience.
Politics is one way of establishing trust. I love Hitler, you love Hitler; I’m gender queer, and we’re under attack by the patriarchy. When people stake out fringe political opinions, it gives them details to fill in to their feeling of oppression.
It’s easy to feel oppressed, or like the black sheep, when you don’t fit it. Not fitting in is mostly a result of immutable personality traits, like low empathy, low agreeableness, passive-aggression, introversion, and neuroticism. These traits are elemental, hormonal, bio-chemical, and physical.
I am against most bio-chemical attempts to resolve personal problems, because the instrument is too blunt and causes side effects. For example, when you take exogenous testosterone, you do get bigger muscles, a higher sex drive, and greater energy. But long-term usage results in permanently low endogenous testosterone. The body seeks homeostasis, and if you try to change things externally through chemistry, it adapts and overcomes your implementation.
In the long-run, the best way to prevent people from being born with dysfunctional personalities is to breed them out of existence. This means creating incels through McGenics.
In the short-run, all of this is useless. If we can’t change our genetics, and there’s no “secret drug” that makes life better, then what is there to do? Roll over and die? That’s quite a blackpill!
Rather than solving problems, I believe the best thing to do is to cope well.
“Be yourself” is a cope, because it doesn’t actually solve any problems. If you are a freak, and you try to “be yourself,” then you will be a freak. That’s a problem, insofar as we all want to be accepted, and freaks are, by definition, not accepted.
However, “be yourself” is a good cope, because while it does not solve the underlying problem of rejection, it does reduce a certain degree of exhaustion that comes from “trying to fit in.”
Simply put, if you want to fit in… there’s not much you can actually do. I mean, yes, you can looksmax, you can dress nicely, brush your teeth, work out, make money — all the standard strategies that 99% of people are already aware of. You can even stop watching porn and masturbating. But I would argue that your ability to actually do any of these things is determined by personality traits.
If you are highly conscientious, optimistic, aggressive, motivated, driven, then of course you will realize the benefits of looksmaxing and diet and exercise. You will study hard, work hard, get a good job, and you will “fit in.” However, if you are a crazy person who struggles to get out of bed, then all this advice is basically useless, because being insane is a very draining experience.
“Be yourself” doesn’t materially improve your life or change anything externally, but it does remove the moral judgment that constantly comes from trying to be someone else. If you are a total freak, and you “be yourself,” people will still hate you, but at least you won’t be wasting your time pushing that Sisyphean boulder up the hill.
Of course we can interpret a trite pithy truism like “be yourself” in a number of ways. If the lesson you get from “be yourself” is to never improve, then that will probably make your life worse, because self-improvement is a major source of pride and joy.
I would say a better phrase is “become yourself.”
I like the sound of that.
When I was right-wing, I was desperately trying to become something that I am not. I was trying to become a masculine conservative moralistic pastor who would promote a return to a tribe-based, God-centered society. I never actually came out and said anything explicitly, but through a series of implicit suggestions and assocations, that was the vibe I cultivated.
Now I try to cultivate a “deep left” vibe, and the result of that is that I am accused (by people who preferred my right-wing phase) of producing evil, hysterical, waste-of-time slop. There’s not much I can do to refute this charge, because it’s not coming from a place of love and trust, but a place of hatred and resentment.
There’s an argument to be made in favor of the disgust reaction. Successful politicians are indeed superficial prostitutes who learn how to empty themselves of authenticity and fill themselves back up with canned lines. I remember when Chris Christie blasted Marco Rubio for being a malfunctioning robot. He made Chris Christie seem like a normal human being by contrast. But the truth is that Christie himself is a walking bloviator, a pusher of hot air. They all are.
Now I, as a political commentator, am reduced to the same state by extension. I participate in “the discourse,” and thus, I am dragged down to its level. This is quite disappointing to the few people who knew me “formerly,” and see me as degraded version of my former self.
What they did not see, however, was the fact that 17 out of my 18 waking hours were spent engaging with slop of a different kind. Work slop, wage slop, life slop. The majority of man’s waking hours are filled with mediocrity. No one is living a truly amazing, authentic, life-changing life in every moment. Everyone has a different capacity.
My previous self put out a video on some deep philosophical topic; now most of my content is “political slop,” by that standard. Of course it’s all on a spectrum. I’m sure my writing is superior to 99% of other people’s writing. But it’s still diminished by virtue of my focus on current events, which always focus on petty details, and fail to see the big picture of life.
Life is personal. Politics is an illusion. Again: spectrums exist between these two extremes. Politics can affect your personal life; and personal problems can become political. If your mom is getting deported by ICE, that’s pretty personal. Conversely, for conservatives, if you become a racial minority and become a victim of violent Haitian-style genocide, that’s also pretty personal (although I think the chances of that are 0%, I understand that conservatives disagree).
From the perspective of my former audience, I have “degraded.” But internally, when I look honestly at my life, I don’t think I’ve worsened at all. All I have done is converted more of my private life into my public life. Rather than masturbating in silence, I share it with the world. Externally, this appears like I have downgraded the quality of my discourse, but I consider this a problem of the audience being too lazy to comb through the slop to find the gems.
If you read everything that Edgar Allen Poe or Charles Dickens ever wrote, you’d find a lot of slop. But they had some gems here and there. Volume is king. To produce anything good, you have to produce a lot. I simply have lost some of the shame that I previously had.
Let’s say that in the past, I felt 99% shameful about everything I did; now I only feel 98% shameful. And that 1% allows me to publish millions of words. Powerful.
The reason that I mute all sexy women on Substack is because it is distracting. I understand that sex is energy. If I am trying to write an essay for the boys, and then I get distracted by a sexy woman, I will lose my focus. Focus is everything. The only thing that matters in life is focus.
However I do think that it could be educational, to myself at least, to understand my instant reaction to this sexy woman.
First, I think: how can I cower.
For example:
Oh Sabina you don’d want to be with a loser like me, pity me, I am a loser etc etc
What I am doing with this kind of response? I am protecting myself. The idea of having a hot sexy girlfriend is so incredibly intoxicating, it’s enough to drive me crazy.
If I degrade myself and crawl up into the fetal position, then this woman will lose interest in me, and the threat of “messing things up” will pass.
To put this another way:
Let’s say that I deeply love a woman. But, I am afraid that someday she will discover that I am a weak little worm. I live in constant terror that she will leave me. In order to resolve this inner tension, I begin to test her. Maybe I even lie to her.
Most men lie to women in order to make themselves appear attractive. I once told a woman I had a PhD to get her to have sex with me. But I can also do the exact opposite: I can tell a woman that I am a little worm. If she leaves me, then I will be alone, but at least I will not be gripped by the terror of “messing up.” But if she stays with me, then she has proven her loyalty, her true unconditional love, and then I can bask in the safety of having an eternal mommy.
You can understand why this isn’t a good strategy — eventually, soemthing will happen which triggers my insecurity, and the cycle starts over again. Liars do not prosper, for good or for evil.
And once you tell a little lie, it tends to inflate over time. If at first I say “I am a little worm,” and she gives me a hug and kisses me forehead, I think… “Wow, that was easy.” So next time I need a boost of security, I say, “actually, I’m HUGE worm. No: I’m a huge DISGUSTING worm. Actually, I’m the WORST WORM EVER!”
Soon enough, I start admitting to crimes I never committed. I am literally Hitler.
I’ve noticed, from personal experience, that this problem becoems worse (or scales) with the neuroticism, insecurity, and self-hatred of my partner. If I’m with a woman who doesn’t give a fuck about anything, and can take care of herself, then this spiraling does not occur. But if I’m with a woman who is suicidal, then I find myself entering the “worm zone” much more often. The frequency of worm episodes increases their intensity. This leads to a breaking point.
“If I tell her I am evil, then I can test her to prove her loyalty. If she accepts me and stays with me, then I can finally trust her.”
do you really love me? Will you really stay with me no matter what?
Worm-mode is passive aggressive. It puts the woman on the defensive. I was tired of being scrutinized and attacked and made to feel small. I was tired of being nagged about health insurance, about my job and my money and where I live and how I sleep, where I sleep, when I sleep, everything... I wanted to be free. So what will it be? Will you accept me as I am, or will you try to change me endlessly?
I want her to choose me over society, her friends, and family, and social expectations, and polite manners, and corporate expectations of capitalist society. Job, career, keeping up appearances all are secondary to me. I want to break her. I want her to go one way or another -- either choose me completely, or leave me. There can be no compromise.
If this gambit works, it creates a co-dependent hostage situation. The wife is married to a monster. The wife remains not out of joy or happiness, security or stability, but out of a feeling of moral obligation to fix me. I was her problem now, her child, and she was my mother and she couldn’t abandon me.
If she broke up with me, my evil would be unleashed upon the world, so it is her duty to keep me under her watch and fix me. Trapping a woman in a relationship by abusing her codependent need to fix broken evil men is a manipulative thing. The reward to reap from this manipulation is mutual unhappiness.
From experience, the cycle goes like this:
I admit to being a little worm
She kisses me on the forehead and forgives me
I get a boost and feel better
Then she feels a bit insecure
She brings up my worm activities
I feel insecure
I doubled down
“I’m actually a double worm”
This escalates and only gets worse
What she’s hoping to get out of this is for me to finally put my foot down and to say: ACTUALLY, I’M NOT A LITTLE WORM, I’M A BIG STRONG MAN, AND I COULD LITERALLY KILL YOU IF I WANTED TO. Fear and love are dangerously intertwined.
cheating
I’ve spoken about cheating, non-monogamy, and cuckoldry, and how it performs a similar function.
Why would I ask my girlfriedn to cheat on me… just a little bit? Not full blown cheating… just somethign symbolic. Abstract. To cheat in her heart.
Having read everything I have written, maybe the logic of this request can be understood -- had she done so, she would have been a slut. She would have abandoned her principles of monogamy and loyalty and conformed to my will. Then we would share something secret between us that the world cannot know, and I could finally trust her. It was a test.
This is a much worse test than telling her “I am evil.” There are many women who love criminals and serial killers. But no woman loves a cuckold. This is because women are attracted to jealousy. They want to be possessed. They do not love freedom. And men are the same way, but because of the demands of society, we pretend otherwise. Everyoen wants a jealous daddy.
Personally, from experience, I’ve noticed that women are much more offended by apathy than by cruelty. If you tell a woman she is a stupid ugly bitch, she might forgive you, becasue your anger represents your masculine violent aggression. But if you tell a woman, “I don’t care if you cheat on me,” that hurts her soul. Nothing makes a woman feel more worthless than to be treated as optional, non-essential, not worth guarding like a precious treasure. She wants you to make her feel like she’s the only girl in the world.
Asking her to talk to other people, was less “immoral” than lying, but worse in terms of betrayal. She wanted most of all to be desired jealously, and my request for her to talk to other people made her feel worthless, that I did not covet her or value her loyalty. She was the most loyal; this was her prized trait above all other traits, and I took her greatest effort and shrugged my shoulders.
I was bothered when she went to parties with friends and drank and had fun with out me, while I was miserable and sad. To flirt and be flirted with subconsciously, cleavage out for the viewing, was more offensive to me than directly, deliberately, and honestly cheating. I don’t like ambiguity or the excuses, “oh it’s just a party, oh we’re just having fun, oh I didn’t even want to talk to him, oh I didn’t even like him.” The fact that she put herself on display like this felt like a greater form of cuckoldry than to simply message a guy, “heyyy ur hot ;)”.
There is no conclusion
I am a relatively tame and boring person with a sick and twisted mind. I am the inverse of a thoughtless peasant who climbs mountains out of a naive child-like spirit of adventure. Perversion is not inherently interesting.
I reveal these things not because I am gaining anything here. But I notice how, when I was right-wing, I would not have been able to admit such things. It would have been “hypocritical.” Now I feel the freedom to “become myself,” which means I am continually challenging myself to be more brtually honest.
I find this to be valuable, because nice people who like me just laugh and say, “damn that’s crazy bro.” People who secretly hate me always reveal themselves.
This is how life works: if you’re a true fan of Kanye, you love him even when he’s heiling Hitler. If you thought he was “ok,” then you stop listening to him. It’s that simple.
It’s a filter. In a way, this is essay is recusrive: I am engaging in the same kind of “worm strategy” that I describe. Romance is just one particularly intense form of human relationship. The relationship between the author and the audience, even if it is imaginary or parasocial, is still a relationship nonetheless.
Maybe as a final remark I will say that I think women are just as intelligent as men, and often more so, but that they totally lack the predatory spirit, and this makes them inherently boring. Of course many men lack this as well, and this makes them boring too.
What I resent about sigma males is that they think, by hiding in their man cave, that they are “secretly dangerous.” No, they are not. What is dangerous is to be in the arena, putting yourself out there, fighting. The man who gets slaughter in the colosseum is superior to the cheering masses, of course. But the man who shirks the entire thing, lurking alone, thinking he is superior and “above it all” is only redeemed in action, the slave revolt, the revolution. Plato was redeemed by Critias; otherwise he would have been a loser. The only thing that matters is action.
I would never lose interest in you my Jewish King
Relatable description of worm-maxxing.