A Brief One

Fuck off.

Existential Woes and Nostalgic Throes

 For some reason, the intro to Boys of Summer gets me going. It feels me with a sense of nostalgia for my younger days. It's amazing how Don Henley managed to capture the exact feeling of nostalgia on record. That song reminds me of being a young kid browsing the aisles of the local Value Village. They'd always play 97.1 The River on the radio, and that song was on constant rotation. . That song puts me in a mood. It makes me introspect deeply.

Am I the person that I want to be?

That's the question that echoes in my head. Am I making decisions that will build the life I want to lead? Am I moving too fastly? I've been accused of being an arrogant, pompous fool, so I don't know. And I don't care.

I want more, but at the same time, I don't want much. I just want to be somewhere where I can be myself. And who I am is constantly changing. I have struggles with my own mind. I don't have money all the time and sometimes my plans fall to the wayside. But all of that doesn't mean shit to me. 

And it doesn't help that the homeless dudes and drifters probably just wanted to be themselves as well. That's not my aim. A life of comfort is impossible, but a life of senseless struggle is foolish. I just want to build my body, make money, and work on technology. And of course, save up for the future. Build a massive library, and have a functional workshop. That's all.

Sometimes I question whether my ambitions are delusional. But then again. It's not like I've never achieved anything great. I just have to always remind myself of my accomplishments.

Who am I?

We all ask ourselves these questions. We all struggle with these hesitations and anxieties. But it's those of us that keep pushing ourselves forward and searching for the answers that wind up finding a purpose in the journey.

Or maybe I'm just a pretentious charlatan rambling... 

Accumulating Injuries For the Upcoming Centruries

The struggle to be genuine is very, very, very, real. 

I already said that employers be creeping. But honestly. 

It's not like I'm up to my neck in offers or some shit, anyway.

I ain't got shit to say. It's late in the fucking day. I went to church (despite what my colorful language would imply). I washed my clothes. I'm redownloading my OS since the repair shop at my college wiped my drive. 

My arms and legs have finally started hurting. Last Sunday I glided down like twenty feet (I improperly descended down an indoor rock wall) and slammed into a window and bruised my elbow and ankles. Friday I bench-pressed, did burpees, and did all kinds of workouts I'd never done before. Saturday I went jogging in 30-degree weather.  My body is very happy that it's young. Because if I was old, I'd be in the damn morgue, right now. (I realize that it sounds like I'm complaining when I mention these things. I fucking love this shit, and wouldn't live my life any other way. Ever since I heard someone say that youth is wasted on the young, I have been trying to do everything possible to never have to agree with that sentiment.)

I wasn't fucking joking when I said I was trying to prepare for Muay Thai. I'm not trying to go in the gym and throw up and break my damn legs, however. The only issue now is that all this exercising has rubbed off on my wallet because now it's gotten really, really skinny, too. But that'll resolve itself very quickly. You'll know that I'm out here making money if these posts stop. 

 

Brain Trickery and Gym Misery

 Jack Harlow has some bangers.

Atomic Habits has gotten me falling in love with the idea of positive habit reinforcement. It's the idea that when you're taking up a new habit (like jogging, or reading these blog posts every day) you pair it up with an immediate reward (like watching a quick YouTube video, or texting your girlfriend.) And the idea is that after a while you'll come to associate the new habit with the reward, and you'll do it automatically.

There's a little bit more to it, but I'm not about to go in-depth about neuroscience and evolution.

That gym was fucking awesome. Going into that shit telling myself that I wasn't going to quit, might've helped me out. There was a point where it felt like my arms were about to give up on me.

But I thought of the dead people that I love and miss. They don't get the opportunity to exercise and build their bodies because they're six feet under the ground. Their stories are over. And honestly, it gives me the motivation to keep writing my own story. Hell, two of them would've gone further than I ever could. But their lives got ended early and their stories got cut short. It can happen to any one of us.

I'm being intentionally vague. But I was surprised when I dug deep, that's what I found. And I damn sure didn't give up. 

Narcissistic Claims and Growing Pains

It's getting difficult to make these post titles both rhyme and be relevant to the post topic.

Ya boy is about to hit a gym program. I'm leaning on the fact that it's going to go well, because I'm me, and people love me. 

(You can call me a narcissist, but hey, the evidence doesn't lie. You're here reading this.)

And after that I guess I'll grab some food from the college's cafeteria and go back home and prepare for tomorrow.

Tomorrow night is fight night. The only thing that happens on fight night is that I watch fights. No one can call me, write me, talk to me, or text me past 7:00 P.M. on fight night, cause I'm watching fighting.

Fight night is ALWAYS the best night of the week.

I don't care if I go on a date with Jennifer Lopez and Kate Upton on Monday night. If Saturday night is fight night, it's going to be the best night of the week. I don't care if I win the Nobel Peace Prize on Thursday night. I don't care if I buy a Lamborghini on Tuesday night. I don't care if some long, lost relative gifts me a billion dollars on Wednesday night. If Saturday night is fight night, then it's the best night of the week. 

Period.

Anyways, ciao!

Book Note Links and PUA Hijinks

Just got done taking notes on Atomic Habits. As you can see, I've sort of established a pattern of doing that, before I post here.

Since I can obviously see my stats page, I can tell that posting the link to this blog in my Instagram bio has helped with the traffic. So as a bit of an experiment, I'd like to link my notes to the shit I'm reading every day.

Atomic Habits

Dating Essentials For Men

Although I feel the need to explain why I'm reading a dating book since I honestly don't care about dating. I've mentioned repeatedly that I spent most of last year reading No More Mr. Nice Guy, and it changed my life. No More Mr. Nice Guy is by the same author (Dr. Rober Glover) as this dating book. So it just felt like a natural progression reading it. 

But let's get one thing straight. 

I think PUA is the most cringe-worthy thing in the fucking world. As a teen, I absolutely vowed never to read, listen to, or even watch people talk about pick-up artistry. It's abject fucking nonsense at best, and it's misleading, pseudo-intellectual snake oil at worst. There are lots of young dudes out here spitting horrible pick-up lines to random women when they should be spitting their life stories to a fucking therapist, instead. 

I think it's telling, that the guy who wrote the most popular book on the topic of PUA, won't even do an interview about it, and has disowned the book repeatedly. 

The reason I hate PUA so much is because 17-year-old Joe got misled as well. I used to hang out on the Red Pill subreddit, every day. Granted it only took me like three months to realize that shit was stupid and contradictory. And honestly, you can't always throw the baby out with the bathwater.

If it wasn't for the Red Pill community on Reddit, I wouldn't have read half of the shit I've read or have made the strides in personal development that I made. I only started meditating because The Red Pill told me to. I shaved myself bald at 18 because the Red Pill told me to. I started reading about psychology and body language because the Red Pill told me to.

That said half of the shit I read on that forum was absolute, offensive, bollocks . Half of those dudes were either legitimately sociopathic or lying like hell for clout. (People would legit post shit like "I Slept With My Wife's Mom And She Found Out and I Don't Care, HAHAHA" I'm an Alpha.)  But it provided me with the clarity to steer clear of morons talking about "Alpha, and beta males" and "blue pill and red pill lifestyles."

(And before you go getting any ideas, this all happened when I was 17- 18; I'm not some repentant MRA dissing his old friends.) 

God, that was long-winded. 

But yeah, I'm not reading some fucking pick-up book, and I resent that notion. 

PUA is for fucking losers. 

Keeping it Brief, And Getting Good Sleep

I'm chilling. I just got done reading Atomic Habits. 

I'm heavily thinking about maintaining my momentum for this upcoming semester and training my young, loud, obnoxious dormmate not to scream and stomp late into the night. Because it heavily affects my sleeping patterns. I kinda let that issue fall by the wayside over the past few months, but it's priority number one because my sleep is something that is important.

I don't know what must be done to resolve it, but it will be done. I'm aiming to befriend the kid, work out with him, and just have a conversation about it.

It may surprise you that I haven't tried this, but sometimes I'm more of an asshole than I like to admit. And also not getting sleep, makes you a bit irritable and irrational.

Anyways, ciao.