We all know it - other guys out there have it way easier than us.
The schism forms between which path a man takes with that knowledge:
Wallow in inebriated agony, drowning in existential depression with alcohol and hypnotic soccer games, or putting themselves through the painful conveyor belt that churns boys into men.
I just wonder how many men watch themselves fall into a depressing stupor - they observe themselves descending the Sexual Marketplace with every pleasureful bite of McDonalds - opting for the short term pleasure over the long term victory.
I understand the struggle, and I understand the mentailty, it's truly the pinnacle of not giving a fuck:
Becoming the fat, triple chinned reject we all see as the antagonist - because let's face it, the only way you can reach that level of degeneracy is by reaching –459.67°F tg (fucks to give).
People use tryhard as an insult - that always aggravated me.
Hardly anything comes easy, and if it does, odds are it's not going to be for you, me, or any other non-top echelon man.
You need to care about your life - obviously you do, that's why you're here. Something was wrong and you couldn't quite put your finger on it. This forum gave you the words.
Those who say it isn't about the pussy are dishonest - it's all about the pussy, but it's through the journey of TRP that one realizes, it isn't everything.
We do all these things to raise our SMV, then by doing so we gain access to pussy, which helps us realize pussy is fun but not everything, then we find more important pursuits and begin to enjoy pussy as a pass time.
But you only get to enjoy pussy as a pass time, once you start to care.
A scuba diver cares about his air, that's why he keeps a vigil eye on his oxygen meter - while the suicidal man cares not about his breath, which is why he lets him self asphyxiate in the running car in his garage.
The man in the car quit.
This life is conflict, struggle, pain, suffering, and competition.
A rising number of men are opting out of this struggle - choosing to taste cold steel as their last meal.
I don't believe it's from a sudden spur of the moment decision, no those are outliers.
I believe it comes from a man watching his slow descent into the pits of bottom 10% SMV, whilst doing nothing to stop it - then, when he hits rock bottom, he decides he isn't worth the climb back up.
When life knocks the rocks out from under your hand, you need to reach back out into the mountain and grab another rock.
If you dangle, you will fall.
The more aware you become, the less tolerant you become to your own apathy.
A man, a red pilled man, fortunately, does not possess the processing power of a femoid hamster - he sees his mistakes, his short comings, his excuses, and he eradicate them through creative action - and he forges himself into a higher man. An ascended man. Ascended above his own destructive and lazy instincts.
The dad bods, the lards, the dead-eyed joes, the 9-5 slaves... they all had dreams once.
It's painful, it's hard, it's grueling. It's boring, it plateaus, then one forgets the vision that inspired their call to action in the first place.
Imagine that - every loser you meet, they all had dreams once. It wasnt worth it to them - it wasn't worth the effort.
And then they gave up.
If you quit on yourself, you lose! You're the only motherfucker who is really on team (insert name here).
That mind of yours, has a power to visualize - and that trusty body, your greatest tool, has a power of action.
One thing that helped me, is I dont think of myself as myself anymore.
My spirit, and my body, are separate entities, and I view my body as a friend to me, my spirit.
If I were to give up on my body, I would be giving up on my best friend, the most trustworthy friend I've ever had, someone who's been there with me through the wins and the loses, since day one.
I can't betray him like that.
I can't betray me like that.
I owe this to him.
I owe it to me.
After Post Thought: I dont know about you guys... but for some reason, I have this feeling in me - I want to fight.