The 3rd Dimension – So little to say and so much time!!!

25 Days to Vegas – The Game
June 21, 2010, 7:00 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

The butterfly knife glinted in the air for a short second before landing back down onto my right thigh in a style reminiscent from the movie, “I am Legend” where the main character gets a knife jammed in his leg after cutting himself down from a hang trap. Luckily the butterfly knife was a training knife – more like a butter knife edge on a butterfly knife. The blade just quickly glances off my leg and once again into the small box of paintbrushes and art supplies below.

We were here at a friend of a friend’s apartment tossing butterfly training knives in the air for fun pretending we were movie action stars (or at least I thought I was one). This guy who owned the knives was a good painter who also taught mixed martial arts. Great combination if you ask me – A warrior painter – strength and sensitivity – man and god manifest. I once again awkwardly tossed the butterfly knife in the air and hoped for the best. Every attempt I made had the knife fumble through the air at bizzare angles before it fell right back down into the art supply box. Every few attempts the knife would lodge into my arm or wrist or thigh if it had been a real blade. Another large group of attempts would end in the knife landing back in my hand at a non usable angle with the blade still firmly inside the hilt – hardly a position for self defense when being attacked by a mob.

The paintings around the room of moons and suns and stars with faces looked on in amusement as I tossed the knife in the air over and over with marginal improvement. At one point I turned analytical and started trying to throw the knife in the same way. Same hand position, same angle, same speed, same height, same catch, same simulated badass  Hyaaaah as I thrust the knife forward hoping it would be in the right position. All this resulted in was the same embarassing results over and over. The grey walls around the room also seemed to pulsate every few seconds from my empty bottle of Guiness. I hadn’t drank seriously in over 2 years and even a simple bottle of beer was starting to take it’s toll. I was on the tail end of my, “worst vegetarian” phase and maybe the cutting out of red meat did make me a bit more sensitive – but maybe it’s just me. Awkward knifing skills, veggie burgers with bacon, warts and all.

I tossed the knife in my stupor once more and something clicked this time around. The celestial bodies painted on the walls conspire to go into alignment and the unthinkable happens. The knife landed straight on in my hand – blade facing away from me and fully unsheathed. The sheer moment of triumph. A confused smile beams across my face, “I did it” I say in unenthusiastic surprise at what just happened. To confirm my luck I quickly throw the blade in the air again.  A soft chink signifies the blade hits my leg and a loud ::clunk:: welcomes my blade into the art supply box once again.

This time though things would be different. My mind was open and conscious – my awareness heightened – I was in the zone. I had the inner will to succeed – I WANTED to control the knife. This was no longer a hobby as it quickly slid towards obsession. I would no longer accept failure. The burden of failures past have pushed me past the edge – there will be no more. Once you taste victory – the sweet nectar of God’s love and grace you can never go back. I picked up my knife and threw it again in the air as consistently as possible – my pure state of consciousness trying to quickly analyze every property of the knife as it runs through the air. I need to throw it lower, I need to flick it more to guarantee an open knife, I need to be more consistent – the ideas flooded my head and I quickly tried to assimilate them all. As the night drew to a close I found that by cutting out the stylish triple rotation of the knife and being more conservative I could get the blade to land in my hand with it’s edge facing the right way – consistently. I made note of everything I did which made this result happen and repeated only those things changing up the rest of my routine. And slowly but surely the knife started landing where it belonged – in my hand – blade away and ready to strike. Hyaaaaah! It didn’t look as pretty as a real butterfly opener but it was practical for a start. And I was nowhere near competent but at this point in time I had enough to get the results I wanted.

Looking back on it I find women much the same way as learning how to operate a butterfly knife. There are a series of principles and steps which can be followed consistently to put your best foot in the door. The execution though is where most of us stab ourselves in the foot. Even these rules aren’t set in stone however and one finds there are many ways to play the game…

In another place and time another few years before the above butterfly knife incident…

I opened the door and we were back at her place once again. “What a well lit place…” I thought to myself as I glanced around the familiar surroundings. A few unwashed dishes sat contently in the grey sink while we squished our way through the tight kitchen corridor. The living room ahead had all kinds of clothes and craft material and magazines and sofa cushions and whatever else have you scattered all over the place. The living room looked like a total mess – and I absolutely loved it. It looked home-y – in fact – it looked like the home I was raised in. When I was growing up I always thought mess was the natural order of things. I always considered it dishonest and showy when someone had to clean the house in order to make it “look good” to others. As if we were living a lie to impress someone else. Because of that I’ve always liked messy surroundings – I felt more comfortable in them – that the person behind the mess was a true human being and not some person holding up an artificial front in order to impress me and further a dark agenda. Until I got to know them neat freaks were kinda creepy in my opinion. Guilty until proven innocent. To me her messed up place was home – and in that time past I considered her home as well. She always tried to say, “Sorry about the mess…” as if it were some shameful thing to her that the home was in disarray. And maybe that’s closer to the truth than whatever fantasy I had about her running around my head. Maybe she was just boxed into being someone else in that timeframe due to the difficulties of life just how I was someone else back then compared to who I am now. Two false fronts probably don’t build truth. Two wrongs do not make a right.

She just started idling around the room as I helped myself to the nice cushy couch. I was going to relax a bit – we just went out for the night and now it was near 2:30 AM and it was finished. I remember sitting here in the exact same spot a couple hours ago before we went out. She was sitting across and to the left on the other couch on the room finishing off a jar of Vanilla frosting. Just vanilla frosting. I found that pretty absurd to just eat Vanilla frosting, and quirky, and totally her. I love Vanilla flavored stuff but frosting was never a big hit for me due to the sweetness. I could just watch her eat that frosting all day though. I could watch her eat it and get fat and lose her attractiveness and I’d still probably enjoy her company. It was little things like that which made her who she was in my eyes. The artsy clothing and erotic lingerie, the custom-made jewelry, the way she seemed to kinda bounce and float her way around the place. The little things that add up and put to birth the false ideas in my head that I would never meet someone like her ever again. And it would be little things like that which would make me all the more sadder at what I was about to do. I was about to ruin our friendship forever. I was about to put into motions the events that would cut the cord and have our lives spiral out of control back into the deep blackness of space and time.

I would do it all intentionally – As I partook in the rise of my consciousness I would conspire against myself and my own best wishes in my fall. I’d send a message to the very energies that hold our reality together that I would not settle for 2nd place. I would not set a precedent and be the guy who’d accept “whatever fell into his lap”. Sometime after tonight’s events I would remember telling her a few times succintly when our friendship was falling apart that I had never intended to marry her and I never intended to have children until I accomplished all of my personal goals first. Thus I was totally perpendicular to all her goals of having a great husband and bearing a whole mess of children. A shame too as I looked around at the place. “She would make a great mother…” struck me as a passing thought – a very bizzare one for someone who doesn’t want the responsibilty of having to deal with a burden larger than one’s self. Maybe subconsciously I did want to be a father but I was still too scared to take on the monumental task. Ironically most women will know that truth far long before the men do. Sometimes the judgement is made mere seconds after meeting you – a judgement that at first glance seems unfair but by the forge of evolution has shown to be justified. Moving forward though I wanted to live as the man I knew I was inside and not the traumatized child that life had cornered me into. I wanted to know I lived to the highest ideal of manhood and to embrace the truth of the gender I have incarnated in to this world. I wanted a chance at the goal – however long of a shot it was. But she would let me have none of it – and I knew this from the very beginning ever since I started becoming attracted to her.

I had read every book and every article and every stray .pdf regarding women and evolutionary psychology and seduction articles et al… A mere few weeks after becoming attracted to her I already knew she didn’t like me. I already knew the signals to watch out for and I was getting all the ones which segregated me clearly into, “friend”. I also knew the signals which put me clearly into the realm of the unworthy to consider as mate. I knew in my heart I was not ready to be the man I was destined to be. I knew and engineered what would happen all along and somehow I let myself get caught up in it. No matter how much you know about something – no matter how much brain knowledge you build up – things always hit you much harder when they play out in reality than which they did when they played out in your mind. I wonder if the deployers of nuclear weapons or writer’s of football plays ever experience the same thing when they see their best laid plans go awry. I wonder how much psychological training can prepare you to see a nuclear blast instantly destroy hundreds of thousands of lives in a sheer flash. Did it feel different than it did in training? Did you feel like throwing up before the fact? You can simulate life in computers to an exact degree but it never even has an iota of the feeling you get when the wind gets knocked out of you as it does in real life.

So as it goes something swept over me and I told her to sit down on the couch next to me. I’m not a domineering person like that at all. In reflection on the event though I found a certain kind of joy in it. For the first time in my life I was honest with myself and what I wanted and it was a beautiful thing. The first time I didn’t have to make an excuse for myself to get what I wanted because I had built up a false belief in my mind that I was not worthy of anything. (I had major self worth issues back then; click here for more details on that – links to one of the very first posts on my older blog and my state of mind around this period) It happened as if there was some secret force in our hearts that knows what to say and when to say it – but it only speaks up when it really matters. It saves itself for the times it knows that it will change our destinies forever. To my surprise she went ahead and sat down next to me. I would never have had the guts to say it just months prior. And I held her in my arms, and I told her how I felt about her, and I ruined the moment of us as friends for the rest of eternity. And looking back this was truly the way things were meant to be. I can’t imagine how horrible of a person I’d be now if she let herself continue on in a relationship with me. I was saddened to know that after this day I would never turn back but at the same time I was relieved and happy on some level I could not fathom deep inside. I did not know why back then but now I understand – it would be the very last time in my life that I’d be the person I hated. It was the dawn of a higher self – one who would leave one path to go on another conquering the fears I’ve harbored for the longest time and living in truth and harmony with the world. To conquer my own limiting beliefs and open up the floodgates to true possibilities. And to her credit she was one of the very few people in my life who has been successful in changing me. A feat to this day I still can’t credit to the controller at the helm – me. It takes a very special person to drill through the armor called the ego and the intoxicating darkness we shroud around ourselves to hide and shield our most vulnerable selves. A very special person to pierce all that and stab right into the heart where all men feel. The heart center where our souls govern. The only place you can get someone to change who they are. She always thought she was special – be careful what you wish for.

We all have our reasons for getting into the game…

A few months afterwards…

Later on that year I think I finally started to unearth the philosopher’s stone – the ability to transmute past failures into success. Women were interacting with me in a different way. They seemed friendlier – or more accurately – more interested in who I was. All because of the principles I’ve applied in “The Game…”. In fact it was a very zen thing in actuality. It was not what I did, but WHAT I DID NOT DO that garnered me success. Most people put out the wrong signals and thus disqualify themselves. The secret was not generating the right ones – but just avoiding all the wrong ones all along. Women wanted to be treated like real people for example. Most men treat people differently depending on their gender and by putting her on a pedastal and trying to gain her favor you make an unrealistic image of her with unattainable expectations. Women are weird too. Women have problems too. They are not some magic elixir who will absolve you of all your insecurities and voids with their approval. They are people with their own will and their own karmas in which you’ll have to partake in if you decide to get in a relationship with them. What’s funny is that most men will not condone using women – but by their beliefs about women being able to fill a void in their lives they are in fact using them unconsciously. Women have voids to fill too – trying to fill up your own with theirs only makes a larger void. We all know the stereotypical ‘mutual use’ relationship where each person is just using the other to prop up their own self image. Do they seem happy to you – or does it look like a toothpick house that is just waiting to crumble? A Jenga in it’s own regard…

Like a wild bird who would only eat the choicest bits of a pile of leftover food before flying off I had extracted only the juiciest bits I needed from the game. The golden principle in my twisted interpretation of thousands of articles and stories consisted of the following. Women are attracted to the most evolved man. Evolved in the purest spiritual sense – the man who takes the highest road – the man who’s found out the truth about the world – the man who does everything for all the right reasons. Thus I found the missing link between seduction, spirituality, and the self development arenas. Each one of them always hints at being connected to the other and this was it. It wasn’t about being smooth or having the right lines /material posessions etc… It was just being a better man than everyone else. Women just wanted men to be their better selves all along. Everything tied in to just becoming a better person. This was the key component for not just women too  but for life in general. The more evolved someone got the closer to God they became . The closer to God they became the closer they got to being able to create what they want with their lives. Thus women were just the promotional offer into becoming a better person – the game a grand illusion to trick us into being our better selves. I knew the truth about the game now. And now I can turn off the console and say Game Over. Game set and match!

These short stories and insights are a small tribute to Neil Strauss’ revolutionary book, The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists. Though I am disappointed that I cannot write in the magical style of this great work that rivals every book known to man I wanted to put these out there as a small taste of what awaits you in Vegas. The game awaits you in Vegas. Men and women dressed up and peacocking at 10 AM when most of us are just tumbling out of our beds on a weekend.

Vegas is a fantasy world where everyone is engaging in the game. Everyone wants to be someone they are not – that is the premise of the game. Like the way we look at magazines to see ultra slim women and muscle bound men posing on every other page we leave reality at the door and only put forth our wildest and most ambitious fantasies in Vegas. In that sense everything in Vegas is grand because everything conveys the highest pinnacle of human aspiration. Reality and truth, important as they are, only serve to hold us back in this land of pure fantasy delights. It is the heaven on earth – a world universes away from earth on the same planet. Like it’s twin sisters Hollywood and Dubai it stands as a modern Tower of Babel in a world falling apart. It stands alone as the large, “f*ck you world!!!” all alone in the desert. In a world where most everyone believes there is no god, no rest, and only suffering we create a city that sets a precedent in itself. We tell whatever energetic forces that be that we will get what we want and nothing is going to come between us and our desires. Nevermind the forces of truth and time – Vegas is grounded solidly in the now – a temporal distortion where only the present matters – just as it should.

It is something that goes beyond words if you can feel the energy behind the place. It is the ultimate representation of the human will. Kind of like a burning man that does not burn quite as hot. It is a sort of entitlement that we deserve luxuries in the middle of the desert. The older generations say, “today’s youth think everything should be handed to them…”  To that I say yes, not because we are assholes, but because we know that deep down in our hearts we deserve more than what our ancestors have given us. Deep down we know each of us is worth more than all of the values of all the realms seen and unseen. Unlike our past selves we have an inner knowing that the world was meant as a gift for us to enjoy life – not a place to toil and suffer endlessly for some dark sinister force. We now know the truth about this world – that the only hell that exists is the one you create in your own mind. Welcome to Vegas – the land which is what you make it.


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