It’s Approachathon day seven, or T-8 (I extended by one day). I’m 108 sets towards my goal of 200 by the end of next Monday. It’s tough, but there again daygame is tough. Tough as hell. Can anyone but the hardcore euro-jaunt daygamer really understand what intermediate and above daygamers go through? Nightgame’s difficult in a different way and online game’s simply the ability to accept girl’s far below your quality threshold continually rejecting you. The discomfort daygame causes is unique.
I’m not talking about approach-monkeying: running up and down a street, perhaps on a bootcamp, drunk with adrenaline and state and giving camp compliments to dozens of girls. I’m talking about rocking up in a foreign city and going out day after day, solo, trudging the streets and trying to do in a few weeks what local guys invest ten years to do once: fuck a couple of young euro-hotties. ‘Why would you put yourself through that?’ ask the armchair critics. The answer is simple: because I want to fuck hot young women, specifically girls around fifteen years younger than me and a seven or above, preferabbly an 8, plus charming and feminine to boot. I’m leaning into my edge.
Today I did fourteen sets. I started at four in the roasting heat and with a thirty minute break I was done by seven-thirty. A crappy day: a solid facebook and two blinding sets with hot girls but one of whom had to jump on the bus and the other’s friend turned up. Damn! Walking round I realized that I’ve been on the wrong track with my daygame for the last three hundred sets at least. Based off something Nick said the other day I realised my whole problem is that I’ve been dissolving tension. I don’t want to get too spiritual mumbo-jumbo talk with you but what I realised I need to do is for each set I intend to do reach inside and grasp that fluttering flame of intent. I need to embrace and accept the discomfort of what I’m doing and I need to fully convey, not dissipate, my intent in my open and make it sparkle through my eyes. It’ll take me months to master a physical action which takes literally two seconds to complete.
This process of embracing intent, of brassing it up repeatedly, of dealing with various, sometimes unpleasant, reactions, of hundreds of mini ego-deaths, of walking the streets and endlessly mentally refining and fine tuning a dozen mental knobs on your psychological graphic equalizer, all while (often) solo and in a foreign country…. this is daygame!
And it’s very hard. Repeatedly doing this day after day, as I’m doing, is a consuming process. Your life starts to warp around it. You start sleeping in. You stay up late. You eat more junk food. Why? All little mechanisms your hindbrain uses to try and smoothe out your moods. Don’t fight them… go with it.
And I’m impatient. I want results for all my hard work. I want lays! And as you do daygame you creep up relativity mountain and what once seemed magical becomes commonplace. I’m not content, yet tonight I had a date with a 26 year old gorgeous HB8 local girl who would have been the girl of my dreams when I was that age. On Saturday I had another date with a model-stunning high 8 20-year old computer programming student (female). I have a date tomorrow with a big-titted MILF. I’m messaging a 22 year old ballerina on facebook. All things that would’ve seemed outrageous a few years ago. How things change…
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