Sabbatical Day 295

So, it’s been a while. Let me check.. almost seven weeks since I’ve blogged. Why so long? A combination of laziness, disinterest, avoidance and business.

How is the grand sabbatical going? OK is the answer. I’m now on my third euro-jaunt and enjoying it. Not rip-roaring, snow-boarding, backpacking in asia level enjoying it; that’s not maintainable, but quietly moving through each day and week where my average mood level is acceptable to me.

I’m no longer depressed, and had been for a few months. I’d given up work and gone straight into a euro-jaunt to Eastern Europe hoping to bag a load of hotties and get busy righting my life’s core problem. My vibe control and daygame skill (if the two are seperate) were not ready for the brutality of post-soviet USSR. Jesus. After this another Euro jaunt with similar game weirdos and a collapse followed. My daygame sucked. I couldn’t get laid. I hated where I was living. I started binge eating. In the end I left and returned to my hometown to lick my wounds and level out my state.

I did, but probably stayed a little too long. I started experiencing some Long Dark Nights Of The Soul. What was I doing? Where was I going. I needed a next phase in my plan but to what? Where was I? What was happiness? Where could I live? Everywhere was broken?

Something good happened. I had the idea for a small, say hobby-level, online business and acted on it immediately. I had a magical two-week holiday to China sourcing goods and since then I’ve been chipping away at it, and have been rewarded already with the odd few days of my life entirely paid for by it. A sweet, sweet feeling. Suddenly I realize business is very real. It’s like getting your first kiss from daygame. The capering and squealing and rushing about suddenly stop as you realize: hang the fuck on… I can get laid from this. My business is like this. It’s almost trivial, but I see that with a small amount of work, a little bit of risk and a little bit of luck suddenly I can actually be travelling the world and living off it and yes, actually only doing 14 hours work a week.

Returning from China to the UK I knew I had to leave. I was going stir crazy. What was the matter with me? I felt I’d regressed to my pre-game self. I felt old, fat and past it. Old negative thoughts that used to haunt me pre-game came back. Female thoughts. “I’ve missed my window”. “I’ll never sleep with a hottie again”.

I decided my highest priority was not my business nor even having fun travelling, but getting back to the position I was in last year before my Downfall, where I felt I had options. I wanted girls. I wanted to get laid with hot young girls.

The options. Firstly, another daygame-centric euro-jaunt. Dangerous, I’d just had two terrible ones (plus a one with Tom Torero to France I forgot to mention) and I had zero belief in daygame. I literally thought that for me, daygame was undoable and that the success I’d had was entirely by luck. The other option was to head for South America for a few months and plug myself into some kind of scene there, probably doing intensive dancing lessons and socializing, in other words to try the ‘ecosystem’ model.

I decided to pick the former. I wanted to have one last crack at it myself, solo, without any wings messing my state up. If it didn’t produce the goods I’d head off to South America.

And here the sabbatical and the daygame merge. I’ve been here three weeks now. The first few weeks were ok but my state wobbled. I started to feel the blues again. I got ill, I couldn’t exercise or do any of the social activites I’d planned (dancing and BJJ). I did a load of daygame then experienced a tsunami of flaking like I’d never seen in London. “Something here is weird” I thought and decided to call it a day. Then a friend A said to me “why go back?”. What has Newcastle got that here hasn’t? He asked. Just stay. Settle down.

So I had a think and decided to stay. And then I just felt really peaceful. I developed a little routine. I started working on my business. And suddenly one of my leads turned into a Glengarry Lead. She turned up to the date a full point hotter than I remembered and dressed like Britney Spears. I took her on the date and enjoyed myself. I Think I Can Fuck This Girl I realized. I talked to A and he said “I can’t understand you and Nick doing these epic daygame sessions, it just makes me tired. I just nip out for an hour each lunchtime and talk to any nice girls I see”.

Could this work for me? The opposite of the work ethic I’d cultivated. I decided to try an experiment: one hour daygame maximum and five sets maximum, trying to get TWO numbers.

The results have been incredible. Slashing my volume down has done wonders and my calibration level has gone to 5th Dan Black Belt. The other day I had a set let and every fibre of my being screamed to open a young hot girl I saw. I found myself on my first idate with a 20 year old Russian model. She was really into me. The waitresses in my regular cafes fancy me. I talked to a hot little stripper-type in my local coffee bar and realized she was into me. And 20. And American. I did five sets yesterday, got one number and she turned up today for a date. She takes off her coat and I realize I’ve never wanted to sleep with a woman this much in about fifteen years. She’s about five foot high and built for sin. I discover she’s 18. She’s into me.

Before this turns into an i’mawesomeyournot post remember I haven’t actually FUCKED any of these girls yet, and perhaps I’ll fuck none of them, but I suddenly find myself in a position I’ve sought for a year now. I have options, I believe daygame works and I believe a single twist of the dice could find me fucking a hot 20 year old, surely as close to actual real time travel for a forty (soon) year old man as is ever possible. If not one of this crop, then another. It’s doable. And now it’s doable I realise how much the creeping chodeness coming back into my life due to my game problems had been bringing me down. Now I’m close to actual, hot, tight, fresh, high quality pussy then my hindbrain admits that this was what’d been important all along. I feel calmer.

I might blow out, but now I know again the system works. And I’ve made huge insights the last few weeks. I see the secret to it. I see how to do it! I see how Krauser does it! I see how Tom does it! And I know I can do it myself.

Wish me luck.

And I fail, I’m going to South America anyways.

5 responses to “Sabbatical Day 295”

  1. Great post, seems like you’re getting it. Cheers.

  2. I’m planning on doing a sabbatical in 2016. I’d really like to pick your brain about a bunch of things. Would you be interested in doing a skype session (voice) for a fee?

    1. Yeah, I’d consider. Leave a comment with your real name and email address. It’ll automatically go for approval and won’t display, then I’ll contact you from that.

  3. Good that things are on the up. Good luck with the business. I’d love to hear about what that is, but then if you post about it you’ll probably get 15 bastards from London doing the same thing.

  4. Your blog stands out for being refreshing in its honesty, so nobody is going to make accusations of dick sizing when things appear to be turning around for you and you post about it.

    I think I might be in the same city as you (been here a month). I’ve found the flake rate alarming too, although perhaps I haven’t got enough PUA experience to fairly compare it with to other places.

    At times I’ve never felt as old and ugly as I have on this trip, but still, I guess its about managing expecations – I’m several years older than you, so undeniably into middle-age, and yet if I plough through enough rejections and creep shamings, I know now that I can still get dates with hotties over two decades younger than myself.

    Also, perhaps I’m a beta male provider to the core, but I honestly quite enjoy the companionship of pretty girls young enough to be my daughters, even if I might rarely end up banging them. So as long as I can learn to manage rejection, then PUA is certainly worth it for me.

    I think I experienced a breakthrough the other day – I ran through about 5 rejections, either instant blowouts or a minute of talking to a girl with a disinterested ‘what are you talking to me for you old f***** weirdo?’ look on her face until she rushes off. Despite this, I managed to remain fairly philosophical and reminded myself that, as Krauser says, it’s all about flipping over stones until a yes girl appears. The next girl, a sweet natured local university student standed rooted to the spot after my approach, asked me questions, and was happy to give me her contact details. 5 mintues later, and the next girl is a gorgeous Russian student from Moscow visiting friends for a couple of days, smiles throughout and thinks it’s so sweet that a stranger is talking to her in the street, and lets me give her a big kiss on her cheek and promises to meet up with me next time she is in London.

    Anyway, keep up the good work fellow traveller – it’s blogs like this that keep me sane 🙂

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