//Edit// Way more attention than I was expecting. I wrote this on my phone sitting on the toilet at work so forgive its rushed nature.
There is already a metric shit ton of game theory on this forum and so many posts highlighting the specific nature of the things you asked for.
What I wanted to offer was an entertaining post that encapsulated the nuance and gray (purple) of the real world and how the journey to red pill is rocky, cliche, and messy.
That being said, shop talk at the bottom //
Picture me, 14 years old. I had Shaggy, unkempt, greasy hair to complement my oversized red flame and dragon button front shirt with Dorito stained jeans to match. I was mulling about the playground at school, staring at the ground with my hands tucked into my pockets and thinking about getting home to beat Sin on Final Fantasy X. I didn't really have friends and my parents were cold, distant, and my older brother was abusive. I felt alone in my own head and my thoughts were my escape and solace. In short, I was as broken and beta as 14 year old boys come.
Picture Sammie, the most attractive girl in school. I won't go into detail about her, just imagine our typical popular 15 year old girl eating up the attention of every pubescent teenage boy in school.
Now picture Sammie sauntering up to me on the playground.
"BetaBitch, will you go out with me?"
I was broken out of my own head. I stopped and looked up to see her standing in front of me with her long brown hair perfectly curled and her expensive hand picked clothes making this interaction look like one between a royal and a peasant. I was astonished. I had no words. I was so astonished, I failed to notice her large group of friends a few feet from us huddled together, pointing, and giggling.
I finally snapped out of it and noticed the group when they all broke down in a fit of laughter. Sammie, with a smirk on her face said,
"Sorry BetaBitch, it was just a dare"
She turned heel and walked away with a swagger as if she had done the world a service by putting me in my place.
I reflected on this moment for a long time. I was literally the most undesirable 14 year old boy in my world. These children found humor in my self worth being totally annihilated. It was like watching a lion pounce a chicken.
The next four years were a mess of bullying, failed classes, excessive eating, porn, video games, one suicide attempt, and a pity fuck with an equally greasy, undesirable red headed emo girl that then went around the school and told everybody I smelled bad and had a tiny dick.
I dropped out of high school and sat on my parents couch for 18 months putting 2800 hours into Skyrim (I played so much Skyrim I was selected as a beta tester for all upcoming DLC) and 800 into Battlefield 3 (1v1 me Ak74u). It was sleep, eat, game, porn, guitar, game, sleep, porn, sleep.
Something in me changed. It was as if my ancestors came from Valhalla and shoved a lightning bolt straight up my 300lb fat ass. I unplugged my console, signed up for adult education that day, and vowed to lose 100 lbs.
Over the next year, I ate 10oz of food per meal. I played no video games. I got my HS diploma. I walked every day. I learned to solo blues guitar. I watched every classic, thought provoking movie I could find and read every great novel I could get my hands on. I read The 48 Laws of Power. I read The Art of Seduction. I read How to Win Friends and Influence People (greatest self help book ever penned).
At the end of this year I was 205 pounds. I had learned how to dress. I had a fancy talent to show off to girls. I had a good job, a car, and a pocket full of money just waiting to be spent wooing girls on fancy dates to Olive Garden.
I was a changed man. I was no longer BetaBitch.
Enter BetaBux 2.0
I was 19 years old and and had 3 lays with fatties under my belt, so naturally I was ready to find the perfect, virgin, virtuous love of my life to have kids with and cook nice meals for and cuddle till we died holding each other in a bed of roses.
Enter Olivia. Olivia was a fit, funny, gorgeous Hispanic college student that I worked with. She was mine and I had a plan. She was an English major, so I was going to dress up in a suit every day and bring her a handwritten poem. *tips fedora
Strangely enough she actually loved my writing and my bizzare nature and we became great friends. My plan had worked, and in my mind I was only a few months of nice gestures away from giving her the most mediocre sex of her life and making her my wife. We texted all the time. We were best friends and she shared her secrets with me. I was in love.
Then the text came.
"Omg. I just met the most amazing guy in my math class. You'd love him!"
What? How did this happen? She was supposed to fall in love with me. Not some dude named Chad from her math class. I stayed up all night waiting for those texts that we had exchanged for so long. The long discussions on poetic motiff's were replaced with "Oh hey." and "Just with Chad :)" All my effort was gone in an instant. I was left confused and alone.
Then came Staff Sergeant Harr of the US Army. I met SSG Harr while he was talking to my little brother about joining the national guard. To save a long story, this recruiter saw in me a kid who was trying to find his way by wooing women. Harr would take me on long rides back and forth to the Unit HQ reveling me with tales of all the beautiful foreign women he had bedded all across the world. He even had a literal black book of names, dates, and physical descriptions of the 103 women he had slept with. He told me all about how women would just drop their drawers for a man in uniform. I was sold. More specifically, I was now property of Uncle Sam.
I buzzed my hair and trained hard and became lean and fit. I was a 6'1, stoic, strong 19 year old future soldier that still didnt have a fucking clue about women. I met Amanda at a party. Amanda was a tall, gorgeous, freshly 18 brunette with a perfect smile and DD tits. Her and I chatted off and on through the course of the party and eventually hugged and I went home. When I got home I sat down at my computer and looked her up on facebook immediately. There she was. Amanda PerfectTits. I stalked her profile for what seemed like an hour trying to formulate the perfect message.
"Hey, cool hat"
"Lol thanks. Youre hot ;)"
What the fuck? Women arent supposed to make the first move.
The next few months were a whirlwind romance of pretty much everything but sex. She was a virgin so she wasnt going to give that up. We never made it official because she knew I was leaving for basic training in a few months but we spent every waking moment together. About a month before I left she suddenly stopped being intimate with me. She would lightly kiss me when I got to see her and refuse any sort of sexual contact. It was a sudden and bizzare shift. One night I was texting her and she told me her and a girlfriend were going over to a friends house.
"Oh fun. Who's gonna be there"
A few hours later, the most defining text of my life came.
"It's just me and Chad Thundercock. Amber had to go home. We're just cuddling in his room ;)"
A winky face? A fucking winky face?
I threw my phone as hard as I could and it smashed into pieces against my basement concrete wall. I grabbed my car keys, got in my car, cranked the radio, and just started driving. Driving anywhere. Away from the pyscho nightmare that was women. The more I brooded the heavier my foot got.
My head was filled with rage and I didnt care if I lived or died. I just needed to replace the pain with something. My angry late night cruise started to look less like a 19 year old in a car and started to look more like an Isle of Man qualifying lap. Anyhow, the deer in the road probably didnt see me coming but luckily I saw it just in time to swerve and hit it with the corner of my car. I managed to stay on the road long enough to get my speed down to a reasonable rate before I hit a razor sharp turn, slid off the road, and buried the nose of my car into a foot of loose dirt. It was quiet then. I switched my engine off and looked at myself to see if I was impaled, maimed or disfigured. Luckily for me and many future women, I was completely intact. I sat in the silence looking at a bent hood, my dark reflection, a tuft of deer hair wedged under the wiper blade, and a wall of dirt.
I decided in that moment I would never, ever again open my heart to a woman. By the time my car was pulled out of the dirt and I got home there was no sleep for me. I sat at my computer and googled the phrase that probably saved my pitiful love life.
"How to get over her"
Girlschase dot com
"Cant get over her? Here's why you should replace and never chase"
The way I walk?
I read until the waking hours.
The next month before I left to Basic training doubled my number of lays. From 3 to 6. There was a cute and chubby tatted diner waitress, the slightly psycho receptionist at my dead end sales job, and the cute and shy redhead from online dating.
Nearly a year passed and military training was naturally devoid of women. Aside from an awkward handjob behind a DFAC dumpster from a little bit too manly fellow FemComrade, I spent all my free time practicing the way I walked, the way I controlled my no shit frame with men, the way I spoke slowly, authoritatively, and clearly, and reading every god damn article I could find on Girlschase.
I was finally on my flight home. I was in the window seat in a row of three when a large, husky man sat down on the end seat.
Damn... But wait.
Enter Belle SouthernTits. Belle was a sexy southern gal with an accent, tight jeans, and boots to match. Her teeth were a little worse for wear, but who am I to complain? I just lived with a bunch of dudes who I saw naked every morning for nearly a year.
Husky stood up because he wanted the end seat for some aisle leg room. Belle sat next to me, smiled big, and said hi to me. I maintained frame as best I could and stayed cool. We chatted for an hour or so until she pulled out her iPod.
This was my chance. I gestured towards her iPod.
"I know your secret"
"The whole country girl thing is a facade. I bet that thing is full of Bieber."
She shoved me slightly and laughed and said whatever.
I looked at her and grabbed the iPod from her lap like I owned it myself and started flipping through her songs. I saw a band I liked and gestured towards her left earphone and said
"mind if I take a listen?"
as I slowly swept her hair over her ear and pulled the bud out.
We listened together for a few minutes with our heads close and she rested her hand on my leg. I didnt immediately react. I gave it a minute, reached across her body and pulled her other earphone out. I wrapped the headphones and set the iPod in her bag. I looked her in the eye and asked,
"Have you ever kissed a stranger on an airplane?"
She didn't answer verbally, but the way she bit her lip and leaned forward told me everything I needed to know.
Here I was. Making out with a stranger on an airplane. I felt like I had taken over another mans body. I was above and outside myself. This was completely out of character and something I considered impossible.
I didn't close that one because she wasn't getting off the plane and I was meeting family at the airport, but the escalation itself defined something in me i'll never lose.
Over the next four months, I moved to the city and that number went from 6 to 15. I was on fire. Friends circles. Room mate. Tinder. Work. There wasnt a thing I couldnt achieve. I was on top of the world.
Diane was a gorgeous part time model with a size zero waist and an ass like a Kardashian. When Diane first walked into the office to apply as a part time receptionist I completely ignored her because I immediately disqualified her as "way the fuck outta my league". What is a peasant before a queen?
Of course she was hired, and of course she worked the desk next to me. I remained professional with her for a few days till I noticed something bizarre. Hanging out of the corner of her bag was a heavily used copy of J.R.R Tolkiens "Return of the King" I stopped what I was doing and immediately asked with genuine curiosity if that book was her boyfriends. She laughed and told me no and explained to me how much she loved reading. Without even thinking, I asked if she wanted to come over after work and check out my book collection. She gladly accepted and I gave her my number. We texted for a few minutes after work and she invited herself over. I sent her my address and by the end of the night, the only thing she didnt end up doing was actually check out my book collection.
Fast forward a few months of near exclusive fucking and she came over one day and hit me with a metaphorical sack of bricks.
"Chad... I'm pregnant"
Along with her metaphorical sack of bricks, she held in her hand a tray. On this tray were two cups. One contained a red pill and the other contained a blue pill.
I swallowed that blue pill faster than a Thai hooker and told Diane I loved her. Within a few months we were married and living together. Love turned to misery and mutual misery turned to exclusively hate. 3 years and one more kid later I had to decide if I was going to swallow my gun or if I was going to swallow the red pill.
Once you've seen red pill the blue pill never works. The world doesnt go back to happy and bliss. You've already put on the shit colored goggles, you cant go back.
I'm 24 and I live on my own. I pay $800 in child support and I've fucked 6 women this month. My number of lays is now 23. Out of my 23, 3 of them were happily married. 2 of them had boyfriends. One of those boyfriends was in the next room.
My wife grew to hate me because I was abused as a child. She assumed that everybody who gets abused becomes an abuser. For 18 months she would not leave me alone with my own child. Women are cheating, lying, stealing psychos wrapped up in pretty packages. AWALT.
They created this miserable sex dystopia we live in. Let them die old and alone. Men, go your own way. Watch out for number one.
The story starts with rock bottom. The first 19 years of my life I was entirely convinced that I was entirely useless, my peers would never accept me, and that I was about the shittiest human to exist. While some here can relate to that childhood, it is absolutely not a normal way to begin life. It is in the story because it is the stasis in which the person I am today formed.
Uninitiated and unguided men waste their life. For some reason I had the instrospection to notice and change, because I could easily be a weaboo neckbeard still living with mum and dad right now like many modern men.
Olivia: I absolutely misinterpreted the situation. I behaved like a friend and was treated like a friend. Frame control, setting expectations, and defining the relationship on your terms are so important. Most women in my life now have a pretty clear understanding of what they mean to me. Fast fun fact though, about a year ago I made out with Olivia at a party at her boyfriends house. Heh. Cunt.
Amanda: Amanda was a last hope. Amanda loved hard and I fell hard. She poured her heart out and I did the same. We talked about having kids and even had names picked out. We were gonna be the cool parents. To a man, those things mean something. To a woman, they do not. She kicked me to the curb like a stray dog in the span of a few weeks, then rubbed in my face the fact that she was fucking around with the new boyfriend. Amanda represents the way you can give a woman your everything and she really doesnt care. Amanda is the truest woman I know, and probably the most cruel. She lives near me currently and with a little effort, I could probably get her to fuck me on her deployed Marine husbands bed, but I aint no Jody.
Diane: Diane seemed different. She had actually read LotR multiple times and I personally watched her read GoT in six weeks. She was smart in her own way, but she was still a vapid, cruel, branch swinging woman. She would not leave me alone with my son because and only because I told her I was abused. She knew she had already secured the genes she wanted and she didnt need me. She wanted to be the heroic single mother but didnt want to be the one to pull the plug on the marriage. Most of the marriage was her sabotaging shit until I had to walk away.
Marriage is hard. You need to be a genuine Machiavellian Casanova to keep any worthwhile woman married to you in modern times. There is just no reason for them to stay otherwise.
In no way do I claim to be a genuine Chad, because Chad does not exist. All men are nuanced. We are all purple. Sure I sleep with plenty of women, but my pickup game is shit and Im still so insecure and angry. Im just me. Change the way you operate in the world, but let yourself be you. Find out how to seperate biological imperatives, the pressures of society, and your own original thoughts.
Change is possible, but it comes from experiences. An experience with an open mind will fundamentally change you. Reading TRP for the fifth time this week will not. Go out into the world and actually fuck up. Fuck up alot.
Emotional connection means something different to a man than it does to a woman. Men have lifelong friends. Many women do not. Women evolved to be able to fluidly move from one group to another. Men evolved to stick together. Just because a woman feels this deep connection to you and you feel one for her does not mean that she will not forget you immediately. Do not depend on them emotionally.
Accept nuance. Accept your storied past and accept what you are today.
Embrace greatness. You are capable of doing things you never thought possible. You can fuck a chick in an airplane bathroom. You can be the guy that has a threesome. Dont let your mind be the barrier to the crazy shit you can pull off.