KONZUKO

if you’re a woman, including transwoman, and the current year is between 2025 and 2032, you’re not allowed to read this because there is a non-zero chance i could marry you, and therefore you’re not allowed to know about any women i’ve ever interacted with because you’re the apple of my eye. Don’t be stubborn now.

if you’re a lad, you can read this one.

the easiest way to tell a person is confused is to look at all the people they spend their time with

as you do, ask yourself do they even like them?

recently, i attended a dinner party held by a very dear friend

what this friend dealt himself reminds me of my university days; you end up collating this group of “friends”, some who you would have never in your life tolerated if they weren’t all you had access to, largely because your values and ambitions are different, and you try to exist closely with them

it was as if he was filling the room with people for the sake of having more warm bodies present

there was little cohesion half the room looked bored, and they couldn’t diverge from small talk

when you look at the 13 people we had by the midpoint, and the 4 that remained by the endpoint, those 4 were the only real friends in the room people who wanted to connect genuinely, and who put effort into doing so

in this room, there was a girl whom i had a complex history

it was at a party a year ago, i was introduced to a table of people twins, looking boring, facial expressions, body language, it all suggested they’re one dimensional. a girl, looks young, conversation bland, uneventful. other girl, high, drugged up, detestable. which led me to just one kind of beautiful, but more importantly, she was gagging for a symposium, a roundtable, a friendly quarrel so i spoke to her as i usually do anticipating the kind of conversation she was used to we talked about art and things then gradually during our interaction a power dynamic ensued she positioned me in the position of a higher power and positioned herself as a victim and i took notice of this analysis she had done on me things she had locked onto in me and i enjoyed this beautiful push ’n’ pull we had both fallen into she’d dug so deep into this belief that i was antagonising her, looking down on her, that it was too delicious to not pursue

and everyone there was invested

it’s hard to explain what happened, especially since it was a year ago and especially since it was a normal conversation she was insecure about being an artist she was insecure about how she didn’t listen to ‘artsy’ music and i like to make saracastic jabs at things she brought up some feminism apparently i flirted with her Ryuk made a joke with her friend about Texas a state so boring that it has the highest per capita astronauts of any place on the planet being born there makes u want blow yourself out the stratosphere on behalf of her friend, she was offended and it takes a lot of effort to be more offended than a 20 year old white american girl this party was weird cos one 19 year old girl admitted to escorting for free drinks, she was profiting? and no one said anything my good friend loved every second of it and i love mental masturbation what a wonderful conversation!

perhaps the true dynamic between us was one of a drunken parent patiently listening to his daughter rambling, only stopping to poke holes in her reasoning. something she’d never experienced at all before

a parent knows much more than they let on; they know some things are not worth explaining to understand them, you have to experience ’em

and my mistake? perhaps i showed off a little too much with my child-rearing

at parties, i like to have fun. so, at the beginning, we created a plan. decided we’d create a man, a neuroscientist, a recent graduate of his PhD and how i was dressed, beautifully matched my character spectacles, turtleneck, boots, eloquent i confided in her my lust to hopefully one day enter the world of cinema to one day make a movie, and see my name on the silver screen She used this against me a means to ridicule me she was so smug - to finally get one over me this was enjoyable because within the confines of the game, i had lost one point and yet it didnt matter because i was at that point 5 years a movie director my good friend did a guffaw, a hearty intertained laugh our Ryuk, he watched over us

BUT! an hour of discussion came to an end i got her number from a friend did some research to make a joke it didn’t go down well with the combination of me playing this mental game, then tracking down her number, To her, the strength of emotion she felt, because i had done too much with my tongue, then taking her between my forefinger and my thumb, it felt nasty and cruel to her. But it was just a silly joke, that on any other day, everyone feels it okay

i could tell if she ever were to see me again, she would have a lot of a particular kind of hateful vim

now, i am partly to blame in this i will admit. Because i enjoy playing funny mental complex games where the topic of conversation is making observation on how we are talking, and commenting on the dynamic while shifting it And it’s happened to me before where she looks into my eyes, looking into the weird combination of my flat expression, and projects this demon of an impression i’ve had a friend’s girlfriend say she looked at me and she could feel me looking deeply through her, seeing through her.

i was just looking at her.

she ended the relationship with him over text and ebbed away

so, i do believe i have characteristics that the untrained mind can make a few too many leaps that leave them believing i’m a freak. controlling. manipulating. a domineering presence. plus i am an open person who doesn’t inhibit his sense to go a little bit further, and my social circle consists of people who are naturally accustom to enable my banter

leading to special conditions that wouldn’t happen with anyone normal

so, she has this hold over from more than a year ago and she’s a strong character, and tries to be. a strong feminist and sociopolitical activist
has a lot of belief, and regularly talks too much

now that we’d all enjoyed our dinner at this dinner party

there came a point where my friend brought up fascism why do all these people get weird if in referring to a black person you call them “black” to describe their physical characteristics? “oh, the guy over there, the black guy?” that within our liberal (left-butnot-really-left-letsbehonest) social sphere, a gay man has more privilege than he does. of course they disagreed and i could see every permutation of where next they would take this discussion but i backed him up because he’s right the irony that to be diverse now is to label everyone now guys who are treated like niggers in their own country because one parent is the wrong ethnicity come to london and are privileged because they are “white-passing” there’s a hierachy now of who’s privileged, who’s most deserving of respect, and who needs to be humbled and filled with regret because in university, the way heterosexual men are treated is deeply hostile amongst this under25 group so i went on my tirade, explaining how it is they’ve this BAME label - Black Asian Minorty Ethnic phonetically creative way to categorise us niggers how even as a black man, i’ve walked into a party, been verbally assualted by a canadian woman, who kept reiterating she has a PhD, so unlike anyone else at the party, she knows what she’s on about absolutely! then went onto to insist how deeply oppressed i am, how woeful my life is, how every interaction i am robbed of my agency She’s not wrong but not in the way she’d have ever dreamed. she initially wanted to talk about communism, and i was horny for this particular conversation but she waffled and yapped about this n that and her boyfriend, and my friend, all quickly wandered away

the baselevel hostility towards men in all modern interactions is heightened. when you’re gay, and feminine-coded, only then are you treated like a normal human. you gain “social capital”

and of course, the response to this is that it’s because it’s a safe space where they don’t have to be on-guard

and in a lot of ways, this is fine. it’s whatever; choose what makes you comfortable there’s always been certain difficulties you face as a woman, especially as a beautiful woman it’s a shame women couldn’t jump into the bodies of men for a day, and men into women but the way they conduct themselves is all or nothing. as soon as you’re identified as a man, you are no good. you’re not a part of the group. the hammer comes down on you. i am free to make these critiques because i’ve no fear, and i’m experienced, but most men would never admit this amongst the group because the hammer would come down so fast; they would be at worst shunned, and at best, scorned. and that is fascist.

somehow along the years, it became that to be a nigger is to be a man and it’s perfectly fine to avoid all men because they are all animalistic space invading niggers

boring nonpolitical interactions have become loaded with hostility the one girl who became my girlfriend, was one of the few who i spoke to and she didn’t respond with hostility - she didn’t channel the spirit of benito i loved that about her

the other way to be considered acceptible is if you very skillfully make it clear you have a girlfriend this was my most favourite thing about having a gf i became such a safe bet to girls “Oh, he has a girlfriend, i can trust him. He’s not a creeeep”

this is called “social proof”

well, this is exactly how i’d position myself if i wanted to exploit girls. ohhhhh, i looove my girlfriend. let me text her right now.

now that’s done, let me do what has to be done 😈

just be smart and unprincipled really quickly you’ll be tossing in quim inbetween beaver, puncturing fanny, rotating minge

once a metric becomes a target, it ceases to be a good metric because everyone will game it

girls are trained to evaluate character on superficial metrics

once i learnt how to filter my personality and coalesce it with dressing nicely it became far more degrading to know exactly how i’d done it - to these girls like me to see through every stupid thing she liked because i’d built it just to lure her to me all this effort for a girl i can’t stand to slurp on me?

girls would compliment constantly on my outfits unprovoked. harassment. they would stop me in the street, in tescos, as if they were entitled to my time - to me

i tried to run back to 2018 version of me square glasses, little care for fashion, dodgy computer nerd posture, and a lack of masculinity

WHY OH WHY BITCH??? CANT U SEE THE REAL MEEE?? LOVE ME FOR ME!! stop being a fucking pussy

did you know all my female friends are very beautiful and very reasonable people? but none of them could make friends with the average woman at my university because they refused to hate men more than they would hate any other woman

when you hate a whole group the only succcessful outcome is you disenfranchise the best of the group because they become extremely careful if all the social men become careful, all you are left with is the antisocial

someone somewhere is laughing

and this conversation is what makes me empathise with young men of my generation we were told growing up that everything a man does, everything we do, is evil the millenial generation learnt this as adults, and perhaps from their parents but the young women in this generation grew up with this as the default; they were programmed the same way we were, so i don’t blame young women if i were told, and i was, that everything a man does is evil. he’s porn brained, and he’s just waiting to rape you, i would believe it, and i would internalise it before i even so much as hold a boy’s hand

and if things go bad…

well… Everything they said about You was True!

even more pervasive, framing things from the perspective of the aggressor and the victim completely jettisons the ability for young women to have agency no young man can have a logical discussion with a young woman his age if before the conversation starts he needs to address his problems of being too sexual, rapey, having unrealistic standards for what she should look like, lacking empathy, and not understanding anything because he’s an immature manchild. we’ve created a hierachy where the newly adult young man must feel deep shame for existing, for causing all the ills of the world and the young woman should feel insecure and afraid of everything he could do to her, proactively accusing him and reminding him of his potential to ruin the world, screaming at him in order to prevent him from his bush animal rape instincts

i would have lots of conversations with girls and guys in the 20/21 year old age bracket in 2023 discussing what they felt the current state of life was socially between the girls and the boys i remember my girl and her friend going on about how all boys have problems with porn; they watch and their brains are filled with everything wrong they do this thing; they do that; interestingly, i could pinpoint the opinions of these girls by coinciding them with trending reddits and tiktoks

These particular two had never spoken candidly with guys; later, they were telling me how they truly didnt believe guys had emotions or feelings; they’d also never had boyfriends before.

my favourite meme is that girls are more mature than boys of the same peer group this meme has infected so many girls, that a lot of girls go into the world reeking of it. this belief is another variation of the hymen meme; it’s stupid shit there’s a strength and superiority in it, and perhaps it’s similar to us boys being confident with the caveat being, man isn’t told to be confident is to undermine a woman’s.

theres a set of compromises you must make to win in relationships with your lover - call it pushing hands. make the effort to do the stupid thing for the other person because it’s far from stupid to them.

You will inevitably see the other sex as weird if there’s never a chance to understand the functions and values and sensibilities ingrained in them to make them useful

for example, in an emergency situation, a lot of women panic and crumble. like the car crash i was in, where the car did a 360, and was tossed down the street, half reduced to rubble. in these cases, men respond quickly under huge stress to solve the problem, in the midst of a crying and screaming woman (my driver). similarly, some men don’t resolve problems they aren’t directly made aware of. in these cases, women prime themselves to seek out potentially hidden issues and expose them. these are cringey examples but only because they’re so common. now, somehow this common paradigm adults learn to deal with has turned into a nasty me versus you thing. most people are basic, so these broad assumptions around behaviour of the sexes are adequate. this forced push into the next century of “social progress” by people who now suffer because the rules of engagement are a complete free-for-all was stupid. only niche groups need more than what we already have, and most people just aren’t that niche.

let me clarify what i mean by these big words something i’ve grappled with a lot is the female sexuality, and then later, the male sexuality. perhaps from my perspective, as a man, it’s easier, to understand man, but for woman, because it’s rare to have candid conversation with women about sex, and even harder with one who intellectually analyses, but also knows themselves, it’s difficult.

i view sex as downstream of the entire social contract all human decision and power if you think of fiat currency, the great british pound, or the united states dollar, what gives sex power is that it’s

1. how we exist - it’s vital
2. a highly emotional biological experience; and it’s the most special impressive thing two humans can do

like currency, our social beliefs around sex are imaginary. they only exist because we all believe it. if we all stop believing in gbp today, gbp ceases to be a currency. but the biological component of sex is real and rooted in reality. and there always some kind of exchange at play, with many derivative financial instruments dependent on it.

this is why there was this idea that a woman’s freedom is wrapped up in her sexuality in how she uses sex and when men dictate who’s a whore for how they indulge in sex, and who’s a lady, the mentality was that if we separate everything, women can reclaim their sexuality, their bodies, and finally, their freedom

but this is flawed.

for one, women shame women, oftentimes more and because there is a culture of shame in sex for women and we, the cumulative group, will feel pity for women who, including accidentally, become whores more than they pity themselves, they intuit that they should really pity themselves more. what’s created is a combined “you should be free” but also “you poor stupid useless thing” and both the woman herself feels more cumulative mental anguish, as do we, the people perceiving her

Now, through all this, even when u eliminate everything social, judgement, shame, liberation, a person prefers to have sex, a highly emotional biological experience, with a person they feel deeply connected with. because there is trust.

fundamentally, it’s all about trust. trust creates connection. families are also built on trust. and trust takes time through human connection

theoretically, u can trust multiple partners but then that raises the question of procreation or in our modern times, trust that a person will use contraception, or that they will help raise the children

so, society orders itself around getting this combination right. men and old women, children, old men, and everything inbetween is affected by everything i’ve mentioned.

i believe we order around exclusive man and woman relationships (monogamy) because it works well for current social conditions. but how we practice our current version of monogamy is deeply flawed; there can be a better version. because for all sides it’s less about trust, more about ownership and debt, “owing me”. now, imagine a community, not just you two, but of many people, a multigenerational family, neighbours, of very high trust and connectivity, one where it isn’t about owing your partner your body, sex, children, a house, furniture, money to get your pussy waxed, more time and attention with them over other people, and so on. but about trusting them because you are both comfortable, you have a large close family to rear the children, you’re not lurching from breaking point to breaking point, so there isn’t a fear of missing out on other random external shit. still to this day, the most bizarre and unusual interaction i have is when i eat with someone and i’m expected to pay for myself, and they for themselves. because the fluidity of sharing, with a huge reduction of built-in selfishness, would make all of these things work.

i have concerns how this works on a globalised scale, however. and perhaps that is the problem. that the fix starts locally.

so, thats also why casual sex can never work because there is no trust, and never enough intimacy. too primal; and we’re borne of too many axons, synapses, too much multicellularity

more stories

it was my friend’s birthday, and i was having a conversation with his friend at our pizza party like most girls, the friend was insecure about her body. but she was also conveniently trying to become a model she talked about keeping her weight down and her struggles. i knew where she was going with this; i also knew all her problems, that biologically she would never be able to slim down her face, that the fat in her body was going to all the wrong places. but i could tell she enjoyed the conversation, to discuss her particular situation so i told her that i’m a slim guy and often don’t eat, and it’s quite easy for me. i asked “what do you think-”

“NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOUUUUUU”

my friend’s girlfriend shouted SCREAMING, A VOLUME TERRIFIC

SHE YELPED A MOST VIOLENT ORGASM, SPAYING HER STICKY FISHY JUICES ALL OVER US THIS RABID DOG, SHE’D SMELT THE TASTIEST OILY-HOT SMOKED FLESH, LASHING OUT AAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAHHHHHHHHHH HER CLITORIS WET

LUNGING FORWARD INTO A RUN HER CLOTHES DEROBED, HER BUSHY PUSSY ITCHING HER THIGHS IN SHE PRESSED ME DOWN ONTO THE TABLE GRIPPING EITHER TOENAIL BESIDE ME EARS GLOBULES OF JUICES DRIP FROM HER HOLE SMASHING MY HEAD DOWN SMACK INTO THE FROSTED GLASS ITS RIDGES DISLOCATING MY NECK IM FIXED IN PLACE GRINDING HER FLAPS ALL OVER MY FACE HUUURRGGGH HUUURGHHHH SHE GRUNTS SHE PICKS UP THE PACE GLIDING ACROSS OF MY FACE THE STENCH OF HER CUNT EXFOLIATING MICROBEADS SANDING DOWN MY TASTE

A MAN A MANN??????? A MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU DON’T GET IT YOU’VE NO SELF-AWARENESSSSS

i’ve hundreds of stories where something benign turns into something constipating because the girl in the conversation couldn’t reasonably have a normal conversation this memory is prominent in my mind because she really tested me i truly don’t think i’d been screamed at like that in about… a year yet i didn’t say anything. none of us did. and that’s a big regret, not teaching that person how to socialise with respect

it’s one of those things we’re not allowed to say out loud i’ve had conversations with guys where we’re really sitting there wondering are we sexist for wondering if a rational woman exists? there’s a fear of getting called an incel, misogynist, all these many shaming terms and for a long time, all the older guys used to say to me “women don’t know how to control their emotions” and i was taught this cannot be; that this is misogyny

and so here we are what do we believe?

does irrational behaviour exist or is it just behaviour without its context?

Ryuk told me that self-esteem issues are like psychosis an infection that you can’t get rid of; it infects everything and i believe in life we always wrongly try to make it out like struggle is equal like something is happening to someone, so let’s look to everyone else because they definitely have an equal situation what if for the girls, that one overriding thing is self-esteem everyone component of society wants a piece of these girls. like sports gambling for men, there’s entire departments of pyschological study dedicated to manipulate these girls. i’m dead serious when i say i don’t know a girl that is mentally alright. and if they’re getting to them, in what ways are they getting to me?

when i started having self-esteem issues for the first time in my life, my dick stopped working. literal erectile dysfunction. i started having panic attacks everyday. i couldn’t eat. i would rapidly lose control of my emotions i’d never viewed myself as lesser; it was breaking me to have people tear into me. technically, no one person was doing anything to me; they all had plausible deniability. but cumulatively, the conflict of their demands and opinions that went directly against my instincts. u know those affirmation bracelets the girls get? the mantras the girls state. you’re strong. you’re brave. you’re smart. you’re beautiful. you are a queen. i was doing versions of this shit.

what the fuck?

bitch.

if the girls are lurching from coping mechanism to coping mechanism, struggling to understand why they’re constantly in pyschosis, sold something, marketed another, avoiding one thing, ingesting another, isn’t that just the loud half of civilisation screaming while the the boys are just boiling in silence?

2 sides all experiencing the same story

one of the things i liked about my girlfriend was she was the average of the median 20 year old girl. this was good because she knew how to act “right”, which was good because i’ve always been labelled the weird one. how to small talk for 2 hours, how to impress the parents being so polite, sitting upright, rarely touching a nerve because she served mean social consensus. she’d minimised her loss function against social norms

now, all of this is to say that in one conversation in the car we had a discussion about the american who drank 7 pints and tried to start a fight with us (me and my boy) as i mansplained to her the nature of violence in male environments, the constant presence of violent potential that’s only suppressed by the mutual understanding amongst men that, even given a smaller opponent, engaging in random violent combat will lead to mutual destruction. that i’ve been in situations with her where violent intent from another man put me on the defensive, heart beating, fists clenched, where he’d just about reached my limit, yet she didn’t realise. that many men routinely encounter these situations, particularly while with the girls they care about, because men want to protect what they care about the most she didn’t get this, which annoyed me, but it wasn’t surprising, since this is common this is the same girl who thought because i was at my skinniest she could outwrestle me and got so turned on when i pressed her against the bed that the expression she made is imprinted in my brain and ever since then, as i pursued more mass gain, she would insist that im already strong enough

well, as i was explaining this about men, she stopped me to remind me that with the amount of passion i was talking about this experience, a woman could assume that i think my experiences as a man are more difficult than hers, and that of womens'

??

she went on to recount her experiences in the club, with friends on nights out. interesting. i talk to women, so i knew all this. but this wasn’t special of her to say; this is something the median western girl in and around her age would say. in fact, all my friend’s reiterated the same experience of their girlfriend’s dismissing the seriousness of their life experiences

a drunk guy, who had 5 weight classes on me, his wrists the size of my thighs, while i was in my matching green swedish pajamas and crocs, made his way across the bar, accused me of trying to start a fight, and was one swing from crippling me
and what happened was both not that important, or serious, or worth talking about passionately

i realised that the default logic is that a man’s experience simply doesn’t matter. not that it’s overlooked.

it doesn’t matter.

when my boy was on holiday with his girl, and two guys threatened them, he had to get violent. when that guy gave that look and approached my girl when she was shopping without a care in the world, and asked me that specific question, i was this close to squeezing all life out of him and through his neck. but since it’s us, these things don’t quite matter. now there’s another conversation to be had about the amnesia behind the existence of violence that living in a civilised world has afforded us. that theres so much focus on sexual violence, that we’ve all forgotten the brutality of men rupturing the cavities of other men’s bodies. but anyway.

every conversation we had where she went in trying to educate me really irritated me not because i hate being told what i already know, but because she was so insistent that i didn’t know. that with anyone else i know, they would assume someone of my character had explored these topics. It wasn’t that i’d spent the entire second half of my teen years as a fervent feminist; that i knew more feminist literature than most women. i studied the problems women face so deeply because it mattered to the world so much at that time as teen konzuko was growing up. That i would assault women with questions about their interactions with men, and have real conversations as an ally, because i saw them despair over the men who could fix men by holding each other accountable yet wouldn’t, and i wanted to be a part of making the world a better place. i wanted to be a good man because it is my duty. no, it was mostly that by default i was just like every other ignorant evil man she’d ever dealt with who hadn’t a clue, and there was no hint in her mind to give me the benefit of the doubt. i guess to her i was just another guy but this guy occasionally kissed her on the lips.

everything we see online and everything we read is a psyop

you know, my final year of film i was learning chinese because im interested in culture i struggle to understand and one thing i loved to do was speak to people on my course who i’d never got to speak to i’d done it with lots of people. people who didn’t have any strong feeling towards me, who were sitting around, bored, i’d strike up a conversation And in every case, we’d end up spending an hour chatting away about life and things, and they really enjoyed the conversation, and would think so much more positively of me, when before they either didn’t think of me at all, or, which was semi-common on my course, thought of me as a retard. this one girl, a really skilled cinematographer who’d i’d tried to work with since my 1st year, but it didn’t happen, and i could sense it wasn’t because of how i spoke to her, or because of my own specific abilities. it was something else - i just couldn’t know without asking. So, in this conversation i asked. “why have we never worked together before?”

and she says

“Because I don’t work with men”

She doesn’t work with male directors.

this shocked me it didn’t but it did. because this is the social climate. a chinese female student cinematographer in london doesn’t work with men, but going by the rhetoric, 99% of men in the film industry are white old men, so will she ever work on movies?

i questioned.

but this isn’t the point. all of a sudden, that first time i spoke to that girl on my course to compliment her work, and the weird look she gave, this look to psyche me out, i finally understand that she was trying to figure out which variation of evil man i was.

there was the time i’d believed so much so that women were victims in every public situation, that i was so confused that my female friend responded so normally to my inquiry into whether she wanted me to accompany her to on the train because of the potential for guys harassing her in the street.

No, guys didn’t just try to speak to her, or “harass her”. She was so happy and unbothered, I was so surprised. But guys was all our other friend would ever talk about, how much she so very hated men, how they were all so rotten, that i used this, in accumulation with everything i learned up to this point, as the guiding principle for dealing with all women. In that literal moment i realised i’d succumb to a deeply embedded psyop Choosing for everything to be a source of anxiety, a reason to always be angry at this society because of men.

Delicately reinsterting a single threaded silk piece back into a spider could you do it?

there’s 100 questions u can have for the bizarreness of this.

this whole interaction made me see another perspective to why a lot of guys feel some kind of way about girls who say they’re lonely. they insist those girls could have access to 100 guys but they just don’t choose. and of course, the girls say how it’s not about the number of guys, but the quality

but what i see now is a situation, and i’ve seen this with my attractive female friends, who as long as they’re breathing, end up with some guy eventually Perhaps they’re having to employ a lot of mental to filter them down, perhaps not. and tbh all my friends are attractive. But what i see is guys who are demonised, and it takes significant courage to face the hammer again and again and again. To step into a social situation always starting from behind, knowing you’ll have to prove you’re not the rapist they think you are every. single. time. And the weight of shame kicks in because this is a silent judgement. You can’t say anything about it because they’re using shame against you. You’re shamed for being in their space and shamed if you try to complain. It’s a phenomenally effective chainreaction of pyschological tools in action.

And then they look to the other side, and they see girls who just have to filter. they just have to wait and they just have to pick. because some guy will come along.

that hurts. especially when no one recognises your problems, and the zeitgeist is built to listen to women but the agreement to do so stipulates that you must ignore men. But why not hear both?

i want you to imagine this imagine not liking someone because most people don’t like them imagine not listening to a song because most people don’t like that song imagine dressing a certain way because it’s how most people dress

most people are like this it’s just how they operate they were born into the right culture and religion just by existing they embody all the morally right decisions

they perhaps are an english speaker, studied at a university, maybe even christian who only ever attends mass at christmas, and an enjoyer of democracy

they don’t have to think much in terms of morality everything they’ve ever done is considered the normal thing it’s the foundation of the base psychology

now imagine i come into the picture always curious always asking questions always looking for answers

i always have strong opinions i demand you give me an answer that logically explains how you operate and i refuse to let you off until you do

now to someone who’s never had to think about why they do things, this is mental terrorism because up until this point, as long as they liked what everyone else liked, dressed like everyone else dresses, and hated the public figure everyone else hates, life was fine

in fact, millions of people share the same opinion as them, so how could they possibly be wrong? who even am i? this guy? in fact, it’s me who’s wrong. how many people even listen to me? why am i so opininated, and always have something to say? you know what kind of people always have opinions? not good ones. and i think everyone else would agree

i ask why do you like the colour red? u say “i don’t know. i just like it i guess” i close the door i press u against the bed why do you like the colour red? “erm.. i don’t know. i don’t know” i press my chin against your neck i breathe gently into the soft pinnas of your ear but why do you like the colour red? “please.. i just like it. please stop” if it’s your favourite colour, then you should know for what reason

what’s so hard about answering a simple question?

so, the dinner got to the point where it was just 6 of us we were taught mahjong by our illustrious 老师 teacher and i was by far the drunkest person in the room pouring this andong soju again and again no one else is having any it was not mixing well in my stomach it’s bubbling inside my stomach it’s curdling and expanding in my stomach

“i remember you. Are You going to Apologise to Me?”

out of nowhere this is not an accurate reproduction of what she said because why the fuck would i remember exactly? like her, i remember the emotion of what was said more accurately

but she gets into it out of nowhere Assaulting me

“how could you have said such a hateful, evil, horrendous, rude, thing to me? You can never do that to a person. Who do you think you are?” and on and on

she was finally confronting the man who’d tied her up, preyed on her, locked her in the warm basement of his Mancave, fingered and tormented her bumhole for years. She was finally facing her Rapist!! me!

but im not in the mood to revist this silly game we played 1 year ago and everyone is uncomfortable everyone is sooo uncomfortable no one moves no one says anything

her boyfriend is baffled because he wasnt with her 1 year ago when in that conversation i was reassuring her how fine it is to use dating apps because i’ve used it and it doesn’t make u lesser, even if it feels desperate to advertise you’re looking for love (my friends got me to use it when i was drunk - but dont use dating apps; they’re designed to not work for you) she didnt like that because of the dynamic created between us at the time; i was “obviously” saying these kind words underhandedly

in this room, my friends all positioned their heads downwards they wanted to escape the anxiety in the room had really escalated she talked and i responded

my stomach really started to jumble

in her head, her justification for this would be that she needs to air things out in the open, and that a good way to do it, is in public. but what she was really employing is Shame

this foundational tool that all women are socialised to use And which they most effectively use on each other in factually

if you say what someone did to you was heinous, evil, hateful, and perhaps if things aren’t working, you breakdown and cry you can win the emotional sympathy of everyone in the room the genius of shame is in locking your enemy in He either has to capitulate, for fear of being considered deviant, or fight back and that prolongs the pain it becomes a circular, neverending, replenishing, unyielding altercation
and i know this and she does too and this is the problem because i apologised for the deep misunderstanding a year ago when it happened after my friend told me she felt some kind of way about my joke missing the helipad but doing this at this moment is because she feels she can sway the room using these people against but the problem is that all these people in the room know my character and if something really hurts someone, i don’t want to play a game, i want to help them ease their mind but im forced to play the game because refusing to play means losing; it literally means admitting you’re wrong in emotional terms

i hate when a woman shifts the playing field from trying to solve a problem to trying to dominate the person

so, i had to insist, and recount for everyone what happened, the misunderstanding, how i didnt mean to attack her. after that night of her waffling to me about art and things, i chatgpt’d a culturally appropriate joke - i actually think it was a food first that i mentioned to know the top foods of her country in her language.

meanwhile, my stomarch is curdling, head whooshing, the malaise of the alcohol in my stomach and this young woman screeching is making me conflate every negative emotion

it was quite enjoyable how quickly she could obliterate all the happiness in the room. turning it to a rape trial courtroom. my Lord.

i had to do this grand stand and i like breaking the wall. i like telling someone who’s treating me specifically that i enjoy the thrill of how they’re treating me. i draw attention to all the attention i receive and ask if it’s necessary. a lot of strong feelings swirling in the room. look at what we’ve done, the two of us, we are a couple of magicians!

and after, desperate, i got up and got some water from the kitchen, and she followed me to get an apology privately. because she felt she did too much. but as u should know best, i’ve had much worse. i explained the same thing again. i could tell at the time she thought i was weird. this is normal, a running theme with people and me. i couldnt really keep eye contact because i wanted to fart so bad. what stuck with me when i was in the kitchen being pressured to apologise to the young child was how she said herself, finishing my sentence for me, that at that party it was because she was “reading too deep into what i was saying” and i think she felt reassured partly because in this moment she’d seen my weakened power level. a man broken by women? i was the big strong dominating figure who now looked significantly weaker.

or perhaps she could see the true me?

when she eventually left, letting everyone know that “we’re gonna headoff”, as the puppy boyfriend followed her along. she had a strong grip on that one but also, i’ve kinda been there attending your girl’s… thing she reiterated that “really, i accept your apology” and i said “thats good, so we can get back to it” she said “no.. seriously” so i clarified what i meant was “get back to the jokes and the banter”

u see how another misunderstanding was in the making?

i just think this girl really really can’t read me and that made her fill in all the gaps for who she wanted me to be which i believe has been a really difficult thing for girls under 25 with normal pattern recognition because as soon as i started hanging out with women 25 to 60, or even women whose native culture and language was as far away from english as possible, i quickly became something normal, not weird, and absolutely not something to be feared

i have lots of stories

a friend of a friend helps us on a project first time i meet her, and shes yapping about her exboyfriend we all end up at a wrap party to celebrate the end of our project 9 people, 6 of them girls i must have been talking shes enjoying the conversation but u know how these normies are they always ask for an instagram
she hands me her phone, i enter mine then i scroll through her profile in front of her i do this to a lot of people

i say “WAOW” because she has a lot of “sexy” photos so much skin, topless, bum, thighs, thirst traps, the most lewd instagram profile of any girl i’d ever met And so so many posts it’s weird because she’s not a sexworker shes not getting paid off of this she just an average girl, a graphic designer She heads to the toilet when she comes back, i joke “i wish you’d left me your phone to browse” the next day her friend tells me “you made her feel SO uncomfortable” and i feel bad i wanted to apologise but she wasnt there i also questioned, now that im a sexual harasser, should i even be in contact with her? do you want to know why i made that comment to her? because when u see a profile like that, ur looking into the window of someone so devoid of self-esteem that u start to feel bad. it’s a person so desperate to feel beautiful; it’s glaring. empowering too, for her im sure weeks later, in the club i walk in with the boys she’s standing there she looks at me like back at the party i’d grabbed her by the pussy

the single most understudied thing in science is how the male biology is designed for females. built to specification to achieve a goal; change it so slightly and the whole world changes. if u think of ecosystems, for example in the california coast sea otters feed on sea urchins which would otherwise overgraze on kelp. otters were hunted nearly to extinction in late 18th century for their fur: sea urchin populations exploded due to lack of predation. this led to massive die-offs of kelp forests due to overgrazing. The loss of kelp forests disrupted ecosystems fish populations declined due to loss of habitat; abalone populations crashed due to lack of protective kelp canopy; shorebirds lost nesting sites. i tried to tell a friend that when her younger brother grows up, he needs to learn to handle the overwhelming desire for women. one day you wake up and you get insatiably hungry for apples 60 times a day, everyday, for the rest of your life. when it happens, you have to ignore it, wait it out. you cant have the apples. youre not allowed the apples. you cant touch the apples. not yet. you have to ask for an apple. DONT STARE AT THE APPLES. like shit, i was 4 guys in the room, and a girl, and i had to mentally stop myself from gazing at her. and the more beautiful she is, the more i want to talk to her. yet at the same time, i’ve been so down in the dumps that i had no sexual attraction to any woman, which for a man, to not be able to have that is like you’ve turned something off inside you that’s always been on. we’ve been biologically built to have this drive for women like it’s as if without it, i would be broken.

then the female sexuality is radically different, and every social mechanism to facilitate romantic relationships also conflicts with this.

what did the father and the son and the holy spirit mean by this?

when i first joined a mixed school, there was a girl who’d sit next to me in business studies. classical hood beautiful. And there was a boy that would lean over. he would tease her with this mischevious look on his face. this guy likes her, i would think. She’s the apple of his eye. And it was so obvious to me that he liked her. I remember not wanting to be that guy. not wanting them to know. thats embarassing; thats weird. now, she wasn’t my apple; she was more of a plum but she was the most beautiful girl in class; every guy would be happy to be with her but with her, with all the girls, i would try my hardest to never be that kind of guy. And this characterises my whole period entering adult hood from boy to man believing any kind of interaction with a girl where she thought i was romantically interested was something i had to avoid i was scared of them; and they were scared of me. well, not yet, but eventually they would be.

this reminds me of the girl who the boys just wouldn’t go for her so she became bisexual - it was pretty sad. nice girl too. and the fervent lesbian who suddenly started dating boys. respect to him; irresistable fella

for some actual sexual harassment let me tell u about a guy

i didnt know him that well but amongst my group of friends they didn’t like him anymore yet no one would tell me why when i probed, it was because he did something to one of the girls now i her and i knew him but they all knew each other longer than me and amongst the group, it was rumours that were going around, swirling They didnt like him and everyday the rumours about him kept growing the insinuations kept insinuating But no one confronted him to solve the problem. so i asked one of my friends at the time why not? he insisted on leaving it all alone but he’s stupid so i spoke with her then i spoke with him he told me his side of the story and with his side, and what she told me i learnt that what everyone acted like had happened had not then i let her know i spoke to him so he could understand how she felt she appreciated that and said “no one has ever done that for me” it was very taxing to deal with these two people in conflict sensitively. everyone was emotional, including me. what i realised was i needed to cater specifically to each one’s perspective. i had to make them feel heard. and really only they could choose what they wanted the conclusion of this to be i acted as conduit to explain how she felt to him and how he felt to her and she felt sorry because a misunderstanding got out of hand at a party so in the end, they both forgave each other and even started behaving cordially, even though things were never the same now ironically, i dont like him for other reasons and she despises me for playing around with a particular girl’s feeling this means, for the time where i listened to all parties, when it came to me, she refused to even hear my side, immediately accepting the narrative against me. could a conversation have been had? yes. was i accused of ghosting when i was the one who was blocked? yes. our very existence is one big misunderstanding, so it’s a wonder why the kids love straightforward negative narratives of the menacing mastermind scheming to abuse them.

the much more boring truth of whiny girls who dump their whole history of issues onto you, so you know early on that dealing with them will be barely tolerable, and even if you tolerate them, the whole time with them will be spent having your ideas trivialised
and theirs… well… they have none.

young girls don’t realise this but however much pressure there is to succeed as a woman, it’s at least twice that for any man. and young guys today are under incredible pressure. if i want someone to tell me i can’t succeed, there’s a billion ready to be that person. so why would i choose for that kind of person to be the one that i lay down next to?

you can be a retard but don’t think i’m one too. but i am a retard because i went on to pick a girl exactly like this.

d’you remember the consent era? all that yapping about consent when the single biggest thing that needed to be solved was alcohol. i got so drunk one time, i tried to lift a girls hand to kiss it - i thought i was being gentlemanly, mi lady. like what the fuck? this was the moment i knew oh.. thats what having drunken regret gets you. finally i understood how people end up doing stupid things we were two steps removed from the guy who’s passed out on the sofa and the girl who thinks it’s funny to have sex with him. Or the submissive girl who uses hints and remarks like “im not sure” and “maybe” to the guy who only hears that he just needs to try harder to make her feel comfortable. the drunk brain has no business involving itself in any romantic or sexual activity. my gen drinks less these days, but since people will always drink, maybe it’d actually be better to drink earlier but in normal amounts, so the children don’t get to university and neck it like horses for the first time at 18 . then disincentivise drinking to be sociable, drinking to have fun, drinking to relax. how can u be shit to hangout with if you’re not drunk? drinking isn’t all that.

one girl was interested in me from the moment she met me. i couldn’t tell what her intention was but i could kind of feel what the situation was and im friendly, and we talked openly, mostly amongst friends now, this situation was different because i didn’t intentionally wind her up but the day she came to see me, and another female friend arrived just after, it presented a situation where what she thought the implication of us was, was no more. i was a two-timing, womanising, justliketherestofthem.jpg

the next time she saw me, she despised me. But we worked on the same movie. i tried to carefully understand what had gone wrong i would think on it - from every perspective but hers but she was skillful in avoiding me, making me feel bad and confused, stringing me along. because what feelings she had for me were implied, not explicit, she felt in this same way she should elicit my punishment. but i prefer to be direct i even outright apologised but then she violently accused me of leering at all the other girls, and stormed off bitterly. a reaction like that? she must have seen a future with me. but at that time, romantic attention from a girl confused me i hadn’t even so held this girl’s hand. but that day i called my friend. i was scared. creep. leers at girls. one false rumour is game over. she was hurt; how far would she go? cancelled on campus. i’d never even kissed a girl. because the hate she had for me, i could see it in her eyes. and in the redness of her skin when she jeered me because i had something and i wasn’t scared but she was expecting this fierce virgin boy to be much more than i was i was this outlier; you couldn’t tell where i’d been or who i’d done by the end, indirectly, almost out of earshot, among friends, she admitted, “you just say things” this was her moment of resignation, a glimpse at all her frustrations but when i said she had the most incredible laugh i’d ever heard, i had meant it. even now, i still hear it. scorn is something there was a pattern emerging from all these women

don’t give her any credit, though she liked me because i didnt treat her like a fuckhole but as soon as she got rejected, she responded very badly when i was in her situation, i behaved normally and if u think i couldn’t already smell this behaviour on her, u should know me much better

my stomach had stopped curdling, and once she and her hubby had left, my friends were actually annoyed that she brought this whole thing up and made a huge uncomfortable moment, which suprised me because i guess im so used to bad faith encounters where the person who “wins” is the one who appealed to the emotion of the group the best and accusing a man of something is a very good way to accomplish that

this conversation made me realise why my friend was with his girlfriend she engaged properly with everything and had compassion and could make extrapolations he’d told me all this already but i really understood why he was with her on this day she was clearly one of his biggest supporters we talked about what happened and even my ability to dig deep into people a lot of people let me in. and for instance, i’ve had two women cry and despise me after we talked about children women i had just met the same day we talked about how i project my questions for the world onto people, which i do, and in many cases i will ask questions that connect with people like questions of having children and starting a family. and if a woman is 37 and her man 43, and hes a dj, if we talk about having children, it will lead to her not liking me because im revealing truths to a person that they’ve tried to hideaway. im not doing this on purpose; i’m actually more interested in myself, so i ask these questions but more and more i see the more uninhibited you are, that sooner or later you’ll stumble upon something that hurts somebody the truth in this case was that shes getting old and her man doesnt want children, but she really really does so, what does she do?

is this a difficult rhetorical?

it speaks for itself when a franco-algerian woman with strong family values gets in a relationship with a franco-japanese man and the liberal french condition attempts to drown out all sense of biological yearning to procreate, and to be human, leaving the woman in a state of deep confusion and the man miserable trying to make a flailing career viable

these are people older than me but not by much but u can see the pathology we deal with now through them it can be traced back all the way through to men and women long gone

a rule of thumb me and my friends wound up inventing in art school was that the artsy people in art school don’t actually make art they do everything else but art if u wanted a real art girlfriend, you’d scout any other university, and they’d dress normal, and do normal things, but when they had art hobbies, they truly wanted to do them

i call it ’to defemme' they’d never articulate it the way i do but after she’s been through something big, a girl will change her hair, dye it, completely cut it this wouldn’t be by accident girls intuit very acutely how people interact with them based on their beauty and a girl gets treated very differently when her hair is short it’s like becoming lesbian the kinds of male attention u receive shifts dramatically it’s a signal that works effectively and i’ve seen so many girls use it but usually never consciously but their psyche goads them into it
the truth is like with anything, your appearance dictates everything it’s unfortunate that as a young girl u realise this, kind of learning how to wield it, but as u get older, what the rules are become hard to see like boys, girls have to walk a fine line there’s a line between sophistication and a whore and u can receive a lot of attention while being a whore. which is what the new generation of girls have converged to seemingly by accident. dress like whores, act like whores, incentivised socially to be a whore, but genuinely don’t know they’re being perceived as whores. so you can derive your self-esteem through the wrong kinds of attention, and u can get older, and u can whisper to yourself that it’s okay, you’re in control, and people at least notice you. ur friends will never tell u to stop what you’re doing because they’re there to “support you” but why do things never work out for you?

when i first met my girl, her hair was short in fact, at that time, it was because i was looking for a girl with something resembling something logical, something more masculine, that the short hair worked on me at this point, i was tired of brainless girls i literally thought she was lesbian she presented so masculine

the truth is you can be inbetween you can be smart, you can be sexy, you can be sophisticated, you can be feminine

but it says a lot about our world of such complexity that u need to be a master of body language, fashion, perception and if you’re not, u get “outcompeted”, or worse, punished for playing to lose we are completely lawless there are boxes but you’re told to climb out of them GET back in! but you don’t want to be in them

no man ever told me that there was a specific level of playfulness but also a level of directness that i would have to use to flirt. i stumbled my way into it

if you’re smart, you can bruteforce it if you’re dumb, your punishment is being left to your devices Your own choices

no one will say anything

it’s quite funy that the family is meant to protect you the group that shields you from confusion but instead, we all accept that each person gets snatched by a foreign external family

oftentimes i’m biased when it comes to these things. artschool felt like every girl either hated herself, hated men, or hated the world Ruthless anxiety everywhere you’d look But there were normal ones i’ve chosen not to mention it’s just that after brexit, and the fees tripled, and the poors were locked out, so many girls whose daddies only provided them lumps sums and never a means to figure themselves out, would drag their 18 year old selves to parties, then to a new boy, both of them completely clueless, and every mistake would happen. and so many who eventually arrived in front me, looked to me to fix them.

including all the guys guys who’d insist you fuck as much as you can but they themselves were only fucking as a way to cope with the past
traumatised people ridiculing you because you didn’t fuck your life

let me look at you. who did this to you? how did you get here? what did they do to the person who put you here?

100 different ways they’ve tried to tell us that sex isnt that important, to give it some lightness, add some fluffiness to it for 99% of people, it’s the most intimate act you can do for 99% of people, it’s most incredible when you do it with someone who genuinely loves you it’s a psyop if anyone tells you this is not true and i don’t like looking to my elders to seek the truth they’re just as jaded as either me or you

i can see into the future and the past

i can see this topic everywhere it’s pervasive it lingers in my mind every person i know is in some form of a unstable or no relationship And everyday, “social” platforms bombard me with psyops to make this a worse reality

have i been thrust into the woes of gender studies? men and women at each other’s throats is a symptom of a sick society

there used to be small misunderstandings that would compound and snowball into big things my girlfriend would look deeply into one thing i did from the perspective of me trying to do something purposely underhanded she’d sit on multiple instances of this for months go to her friends; have discussions; receive worthless insights; she’d never go to me to discuss me then one day, she’d be with me, she’d explode at me blame me for everything i’d try to get to the bottom of it what happened the first time. what did i do? i have a good memory, so i eventually knew. i would work with her to uncover and understand it together. i would literally piece it together, prying it from from her. she wouldn’t let go. it was a misunderstanding. she wouldnt let go! how could i do that? it’s so obvious that this is how the world works! that this is how everyone operates, but you don’t! it’s just so obvious! how could i do that to her. i did not care about her! by the end, when we broke up, i insisted we both write long diary entries on what we felt happened she read hers to me but because i knew her she wouldnt properly understand it if i read it to her so i let her read mine

the truth is i could read her from the change in her breaths through the phone i could read her from the twitches of her brows in person but as soon as i stopped trying to read, i couldn’t see. and when i stopped seeing, what we were ceased to be

over burgers, she made me tell her my whole life story why i didn’t have parents how they had lost everything i had my best christmas in more than 10 years with her family but she never understood what all these things meant to me. that time was stressful because i had little money but i was adamant that i get a gift for everyone in her family so i spent hours everyday trawling online for the perfect, cheap, but meaningful gifts, bought wrapping paper for the first time in my life, wrapped the presents, fucked up, wrapped them again, and labelled them, paying strict attention to my handwriting - i didnt want it to feel sloppy i wanted to do matching pyjamas but she insisted it was cringey when i met her parents, her dad reminded me of me; stressed, supporting a big family, and the wine he drank with meals was reminiscent of the lonely nights i drank in front of the screen her mum was like my mum; she put so much stress on herself to ensure she was disciplined. she was adamant that she raise the best children. the toll that a non-linear life had taken on them was clear.

u know money was always a big anxiety for me it was because of money i didnt care that i’d never had a girlfriend i had seen my father and my mother. outings we had planned a week in advance would put pressure on me because i couldn’t stand the thought of asking my girl to split the bill with me it felt so wrong but there were situations where i was forced to

on our short trip, i didnt offer to pay for some things. my friend knew, so he paid on behalf of me because it would paralyse my banking, and worse, having to admit to her so she could cover it… i’d hoped she’d understood after i’d told her everything. but she didn’t. it caused a misunderstanding and she accused me of simply not caring. not having enough money for her paralysed my ego; it was the only thing that could embarass me. i apologised to her, then paid her back all the money

in the 5 years before this, i’d made a plan for my life. everything i needed to do to succeed. all the money i needed so save how much i would need to earn and i had nearly done it all. my big mistake was i never thought i would care this much for a girl

this was when i finally understood what culture means even after telling her everything, she couldn’t understand that she didnt have billions but her family could buy mine that getting a normal job wouldn’t solve my problems i would just be a wageslave lurching from 50 hour week to 60 hour work week. it had to be a homerun. but she didnt believe baseball was a game i could play the people back then would always look down on me for believing i could do anything everything was my fault because there was something i wasn’t doing right; i was egotistical and naive like they were growing up as if my parents were sending me to artschool so i could spend 4 years smoking weed. what i needed was to follow “the rules”. there was no uncle pulling a favour, no daddy wiring me money no helping figure in the industry but when i ran into issues, and it stressed me because all the people i started with had abandoned me, i just needed to shut up and deal with it at that time, i talked and talked about it with people i sent 200 job applications, applied to grants and art institutions. of course i know im the man, the one whose decisions dictate the future of my children, of my family; it’s all dependent on me. in the end i realised two things im a poor unconnected young man, so everything is on me to succeed and a relationship with someone from a different culture, a different class, could never succeed because they could never understand what it was like to be me and being smart and hardworking is no substitution for having wealth and living comfortably we were told a lie that we can all live globally and care for each other no. you only understand people who live like you and im a poor, and shes somewhere over there - above me

at one time, just before new years, we all sat together and had a discussion me, her, three girls, and a guy they asked me how did you meet? i inhaled, ready to tell my tale of how on a mundane day at an art exhibition i saw the most beautiful girl a girl so unlike any i’d ever seen, i started calculating every single excuse i had to speak to her when i told this story, all the girls moaned, decrying how as a man it was purely a girl’s beauty that guided me to choose her

what i didn’t get to say was how of all the many thousands of girls i’d evaluated, all the many beautiful girls i’d encountered, all of the girlish intellects i’d sundered, she was the only one who in conversation, from the way she spoke of the world to how she stopped to think and to stumble was how i knew she was the one i absolutely could not fumble

but she was right. in many ways, her beauty first, and then her “good enough” accompanying characteristics overwhelmed my ability to make a good judgement on her - something that hasn’t easily happened to me before. from the 1st day i met her, she was low on self-esteem. and not knowing who you are as a person means you look to everyone and everything else to fix your problems.
this was, above all, the killer combination.

you need to see yourself win to gain self-esteem but that isn’t something i’ve ever been able to teach.

that first time i met her we spent the entire night talking we only stopped so she could leave

in the beginning, she was the only one to ever read my 53 page dissertation on llms and moviemaking by the end, she’d regularly tune out my parts of the conversation she thought i was too self-obsessed to notice but to me it was too obvious; what point was there in addressing this? i talked about everything; she struggled to have any opinion

i spent all of undergrad both confused by and trying to avoid a specific type of girl Then, like a retard, it was that specific kind of girl i gave my heart to

there was a time where i became incensed at her response to what i was saying this was the worst month, where nothing could ever be the same i told her a person i love had changed because of severe mental health she insisted that wasn’t the case at the time, i knew from the limits of her perspective how she arrived here but i also knew my perspective and it was i who knew the person, not her why would she believe she knew better? what i believed was if i gave her all the information i could evolve her to understand my conclusions but she was like gpt4-16k even if i gave her the new data points, she’d always eventually revert back to the average of her training dataset she couldnt take on new information without already being trained on it

i shouldn’t have but i told her she was predictable i knew everything she was going to say but what i didnt say was how i resented all the pain i was being put through by the men in her life for a girl who was hurting me i’d not yet met her father but had evaluated who he was and how he thought contextually. i knew how smart he was; i would tell her he was like me she would feed me conversations from her mum where they’d discuss me how the father hoped i didnt think meeting him was him accepting me how the mother was going to judge every gift i gave her she wasnt doing it to intentionally hurt me but i ended up internalising all the pschoanalyses they were doing because i knew if it were my daughter i’d do it too like the pressure for her to do something with her life, the pressure on me was implied they never tell you this in the neoliberal world but the sanctity of marriage for a father and his daughter is literally the father transferring responsibility of her to the husband. can u look after my daughter, boy? can u raise a family like i did, boy? im smart enough to know the predicted outcomes of a 20-something artist black boy from a broken family and i would extrapolate all the permutations of the arrangement too it just felt wrong to be under all this pressure, because if they were in my position, they’d share all my opinions

parents dont know who they raise my mum doesnt know me but it’s not their responsibility to past a certain point yet it is theirs to haggle for the best possible deal

The mum, the mum, I couldn’t help but recognise the girl I was dating in her. She was this person milling about, following a script. She always looked anxious and even if we were to have a conversation, I knew deep down it would be like talking to my girl 20 years later.

It was a time the mum gave me advice on my movies. She’d been gossiping with the uncle, her brother, about me.

He was exchanging details and observations that he’d seen in me. And she asked me, what kind of movies do you want to make? And I thought, oh, we’re going to have this discussion about cinema and, no. She wanted to lecture me on how I needed to join a company, how I needed to work for someone, to get anywhere, to get somewhere.

In the same vein, she lamented how the older generation, like her and older, hadn’t left us with much of anything. How much harder it was for us. And she could see the struggles that we were all going through.

And I thought on this, but couldn’t she see the two contradictions? She was telling me how I should live my life from the perspective of an old person in a world that was rapidly changing. Yet lamenting all the difficulties of my life. After that, I didn’t want to properly, truly open up to her.

Which is something I regret now, because we would have had much deeper, more meaningful conversations. It just felt weird that she’d use information from him against me. And when she used it in that way, it was obvious where she’d gotten that information from.

there was a weird dynamic in this family because the daughter could only view herself as under the tutelage of mummy and daddy buts shes an adult, and im the boyfriend, not another one of the kids i have to be the man that makes hard decisions, and the parents expect me to be him so i recognised this contradiction before this, i had a long conversation about at what point she believed a parent sees their child as an adult in the car ride i said when a mother finally sees her daughter raise a child, seeing that even without her, a new life can go on

she simply believed never

what i’m saying is she was the baby and she wanted me to interact with her parents like the baby but the parents were evaluating me as the man and wanted me to interact with them as a man but theres missing context to this part which im not sure how to reconcile to you it’s out there somewhere but fuck you - just remember.
Seeing the family that time, she didn’t want me to be there it was after our huge misunderstanding, and i knew we would never be compatible and assumed she wouldnt want to invite me anymore because i too wouldnt if i were in her position i verified this was true because i accidentally saw in her whatsapp notes her trying to find the write words to tell me how she felt lesser being with me. she was trying to find the order of her thoughts so her words would come out perfectly when she’d confront me. a child preparing their presentation for their teacher. anecdotes. reddit threads. is my boyfriend a narcissist?

if u want to cut to the truth we’re both victims of modern life theres a person i have to be, and one for she that are at odds with who we are naturally and everything i ever complain about EVER are just symptoms of this

im gonna say though the effect of being treated without nuance for so long treated like a narcissist when u have the capacity to treat people like one would, there are times u get frustrated

all of creation is one big misunderstanding

in fairness to her family, this was the first time a serious boyfriend contender had ever been in their presence. and im the reason the scenario even happened their little girl was growing up. oh fuck.

overtime, our disagreements would go one way she’s upset, i figure it out, but she has to stay upset it wasn’t about fixing the problem; it was about her feeling validated she couldn’t have it fixed, an apology, and just move on there had to be some self-flagellation someone had to be wrong; it couldn’t be victimless so i would simply apologise, validate her, so we could move on but now it’s another thing i did wrong that i could see in her was resentment she was accumulating, never letting go. every small infraction was another reason not to trust me not to hear what i say. eventually, i would only ever say new things by saying they were what someone else told me because if it came from me she would give it no weight - i was just me talking, but if a friend said it, it had truth.

having this model of her reasoning in my head, and the model of her perception of my way of thinking, and how i was truly thinking constantly syncing and evaluating them, it would drain me. one argument, or discussion, so overloaded my brain juggling all the predicted permutations of her reasoning, so i could explain in a way she would understand, not get angry, and not resent me, that wouldn’t have longterm negative implications, yet which would solve the problem today without her later turning around and insisting i’m the problem because i like to debate, led me to start mumbling random words midsentence and she asked me “what are you even saying?” and i didnt even know and i just stopped.

you know, just like me, how hard it is to see the future, to account for every variable, and still be powerless to change it

Yes. i, more than anything, wanted this to work. i was the monkey man in the zoo. if i didnt do the tricks she was accustom to, it was abuse. she said to me “i’m putting my everything into this” the implication of this was that whatever went wrong was my doing, my maliciousness. she was just sitting in the passenger seat. i tried every time to make it the most romantic iconic thing she’d ever experienced. i told her one time how remarkable it was that we got together. there were 5 big decisions i made when i was conflicted that with just 1 different choice would have prevented us from ever reaching the first date. she didnt get what i was trying to say. but after those months of long distance right at the beginning of the relationship, hours of calls everyday, the time i had to convince her to speak on the phone, staying up til 7 every morning talking to her because she was lonely in a different timezone, she would always be the first to end the phone call, times where i’d shift a lul in conversation into something so much more deep and entertaining, where we had 1 day to see each other, before i left for more than a month, so i booked the most expensive hotel i’d ever booked in my life because i wanted it to be perfect, but i also wanted it to be as close to the airport as possible so we could spend as much time together as possible, and so i planned the whole day, spent a week searching for hours everyday for what to do, rejected by airbnbs, hotels, paid for her late checkout so she could sleep longer, just so we could walk along hyde park for her to tell me she didnt think the relationship was real because we hadnt spent enough time together.

when i told her i’d booked the hotel because her staying at my home would eat hours out of our time that day. “wait.. you didnt think we’d..” this was outside the pizza place where, unbeknownst to me was when my anxiety disorder started forming, because i couldnt eat at all that time. so i just watched her. i didnt book a hotel to have sex with her, but even if i wanted to, that wouldn’t be a crime, that would be human. the pain in my chest when she accused me. the one girl i’d chosen had in one go accused me of the one thing i’d tried to avoid my whole life. WHAT, u creep?! u thought i would fuck you? because when u say something halfway, then stop, then try to pass it off. this was a thing she’d go on to do a lot. and it was like my autistic sensibilities in those moments would disappear and my english sensibilities to keep calm and move on would engage. it was me freezing up as i was being emotionally raped. why wouldn’t you fight back or do something? well, i just froze. i didnt know what to do.

be me, a casualty of modern ideology

when we were both back in the country again, we never again had the phone calls we enjoyed back then. i realised i was just convenient at that time because she was lonely kek

it’s very weird actually; ive spoken with many but still not gotten to the bottom of this. this girl was in no position for a boyfriend, wouldnt schedule her time for it. couldnt. wouldnt message, and would prioritise every other pointless activity over me. holy shit this makes me sound like a loser faggot. but when i told her this, she couldnt acknowledge it. and this happened right when we got back from our trips, so at the beginning, not when we hated each other.

when i used all my brain power to come up with an analogy to explain this to her, she concluded that i didnt want her to hangout with her friends. i explicitly stated this was not the case.

she started hiding from me when she would go out with them.

in my mind, i knew her friends. she would not be friends with them after she graduated it. that isnt even specific to her; it’s a classic girl thing. but we also had deep talks about them and i could see the lack of connection. so in my mind, even if she cancelled all her activities with them for the next 6 months, and just did things with me, it wouldnt matter, because you invest so much emotion into a partner, u may as well live your best life with them. that didnt happen and on her birthday, one month before it ended, she confided in me on the dancefloor of that bar, “i keep putting everything first before you. you always come last” i just agreed. no amount of conversation would fix this. i’d tried and it ruined the relationship more than i’ve mentioned but it hurts to keep digging up these memories so you can have something to read. if she knew herself at all, all this questioning by me would have been unnecessary.

she was one of those people and i know a lot of girls like this who could not sit still a feature of hers i valued was that she didnt do social media

yet. she. did. she could never sit still she would become irate if i wanted to just chill with her for 30 minutes relaxing she lurched from activity to activity skiing to dancing these are physical activities, right? i live in a perpetual state of anxiety. these social paradigms will temporarily distract my mind! the bourgeois way of being completely out of touch with yourself, hating your existence, constantly running away, either abroad or to some ritual to make you feel whole

i have to emphasise. she always had to be doing something. i realise now how anxious a person she is routine was her alcohol stillness was when it ran dry

she’s not special in this, though we know normal people don’t look into themselves everything is confusion; everything a surprise

she almost did ayahuasca by the way lmaooo

you’re thinking right now how predictable this all is how my tale reads like one of those sad poor bitches in the instagram comments, or a reddit post, or any stupid love song.

we walked through a canal in the king’s cross area angel/king’s cross area and she was talking about falsetto and the way christmas songs had a sexual nature a mariah carey “santaaa Baby” and they would do their voice in that horny way as they would sing she was criticising those songs over the more neutral ones she heard as a child I disagreed. I felt love songs had a place even at christmas; it’s how children are created after all - as long as we’re not fucking the children or having sex in front of them. I brought up earth angel earth angel is a song i had to remove from my spotify liked songs because the entire first half reminds me of this moment of the relationship. the seconds half of the song, where it really drives and has the emotion is beautiful. I played it for her.

i believe this frustrated her it felt to her like i was combating her i would always give her the space to talk but she was a submissive person and how i was to her felt like being overpowered she was never good thinking on the spot, even if she had the floor in these moments she felt like she had no voice no matter what i did and this wasn’t the relationship cliche of the guy who just wants to fix problems and the girl who just wants to talk about them. no.

i love talking, i love wafflin, but i love listening to people waffle

as we continued walking along the canal, we saw those boats i remembered a friend who rented one with a friend and i was told the costs included which was madly expensive for this lifestyle which is meant to be nomadic. but in truth, people like my friend living there was just because it was cheaper. he and his boyfriend combined their student loans to stay there because it was more cost-effective than a flat i made an observation how wrong it was to charge them like this and she switched

to her, it was a “here he goes again” moment always digging deep and finding a way to take things personally and this hurt me because i knew this was the new stage she was at, of her trying to figure out what was wrong in me, why i was like this - this new stage of analysis - her butchered analysis of why i think this way and how it hurts me, and how i need to just let go

i’m a person who sees we live in a broken world and i’ve known this since 12 years old because i saw my parents cry in the kitchen because we were being kicked out the house she was a person who grew up skiing, who grew up going to the best schools (in fairness, we both did), and who grew up siloed away from the pain of a financial economy, so of course she’s not going to think like me. incredible how we got together. i wanted to say all this to her but i couldn’t i realised i just couldn’t based on everything that was said before that didn’t go in - it just hurt her.

so i just had to listen to her, and i’ve had people do these analyses on me when i already know myself. i listen, and it’s kind of plausible i can see how they got here. if i was a stupider person i’d be like oh shit you figured me all out but then this isn’t it, there’s nothing actually very complex about me i remember another girl said this to me, you know, konzuko, you’re not very complex, I know what you want this girl who was trying so hard to figure me out there’s nothing really much to figure out all of my motivations and ambitions are all very obvious you just need to want to know the backstory, and no one ever really wanted to know and the thing about my girlfriend is that while i knew that this world we live in has so many problems that I’m fighting to change, desperately, she was suffering from the problems of this world too and every day it would eat at her, and I could see it but she just didn’t recognise it so it was one of those I know all of these truths about you but I can’t get you to see them, so I just have to allow you to be you.

There’s this thing where a person can assume control over the flow and the emotions, the ebb and flow of a group by being a passive actor in her case, because she was this ditzy, klutzy girl who just never knew what she wanted, never had the answers, could never explain herself she would be upset or she would be stressed or there was something she wanted to say and the burden of responsibility was on me to figure it out And because I am smart enough to figure it out in 100% of cases, i did this and because I was so good. i am so good at reading people this became a very normal way for us to operate, very natural from the outside looking in, this is not natural at all But it became very natural. and so it created a very dodgy dynamic where her influence on the relationship and on me was quite nebulous because if I have to figure out everything that’s wrong it’s basically me who’s always wrong and she can always shift and change and say “no, you’re not getting it right - that’s not right” and I’d have to figure out okay what’s wrong? what is the reason? because I know she can’t figure it out because she’s too incapable of figuring out herself and explaining to me directly what the problem is

writing this all out, i can see how she would go to her friends and they’d say our relationship was becoming toxic she said this to me and from her side, it looked like someone controlling everything from my side, it was someone desperately trying to reach harmony

This is something that happens a lot in hierarchies with women where it’s consensus-based - how decisions are made. but in reality there’s a particular person who’s in control and who exerts this hidden nebulous pressure on everyone else. and in operating this way they don’t have to be accountable or take true responsiblity. they have plausible deniability.

in this case there was one instance where she had an important package and this package was really important. she couldn’t have it delivered to her place I don’t know why because she had flatmates but she couldn’t, and she was asking me to take it now if you know about my home situation, it’s a very dodgy very deeply dodgy I don’t want to write all about it, but i made a song about it and she knew about it and I explained it before but shes so incapable with information this was also my first experience realising the modern world is too complex for the majority of people.

at the time, when she asked me if i could accept a package being delivered to my address, i thought on it now in the actual conversation how this came out was I did an errrrrrr, and I thought on the 15 things that my braindead flatmates would do if the parcel came to mine, then I said to her if there’s really no one else then I can do it - I can do it for you and I didn’t want to go into all the details of why i was hesitating, you’ve got remember the year this was all happening was the most fucking stressful year of my life and i’d told her all about my home life already - the issue is she simply couldnt comprehend it so there was all kinds of things going on, and this actual package, it didn’t come that month it didn’t come the next month it kept being delayed when it eventually came it was a while later so she sent me a photo of a tracking number theres no copy/paste screen ai and its a 12 digit tracking number. she didnt make it easy for me at all. i would have send her the link, the number pasted in chat, done everything so it’s one click. thats what i remember thinking as i was toiling over my pc looking for jobs as i receieved this message about some delivery.

what i thought would happen was i’ll get a knock at the door if i miss it, they usually leave a slip if it doesn’t quite get delivered so i kept checking everyday at the door there was no slip wtf i didnt check the tracking number i admit but maann it’s a package it comes; we know it it’s simple now that didn’t happen it came. but no one opened the door. and the person who sent the package to her was like oh it’s been sent back - they’re going to try one more time if you don’t pick it up this time properly, it’s going to get sent back to its country of origin so she gets on me that day she finds out it’s valentines day and before this all happened she was conflicted on whether to hangout with me or her friend i convince her to choose me she decides on yes - but only for a few hours

she was incensed, completely irate, about the package it’s like oh you don’t care - you don’t care about me you don’t care about my feelings she pinpoints that even with this package it’s like I can’t trust you to do things for me because you don’t even want to do them

there was more hidden in her words there so i wanted to know what does she mean?

I wasn’t keeping track of the tracking number I expected if it came i’d be notified by the right parties what happened in fact was my flatmate rejected the fucking parcel because it didn’t have my name on it or any of the names they rejected it and they didn’t tell me it was so fucking brain dead but this was the thing that I was talking about like this kind of thing’s never even happened before and the reason why they rejected it is because they were scared that someone was doing fraud i couldn’t have even predicted this outcome myself and it’s just this time there was too much on my mind I wasn’t thinking about this potential possibility but it’s like she she didn’t get the level of crippling stress remember this was the time, a total dysfunction in my brain that I was under and she didnt understand erectile dysfunction stress i couldnt eat food properly losing weight but chugging along; i’m fine i didnt realise that men can be under so much stress to even not get hard then u couldnt go to your girl to destress because it would intensify the stress worse still, i couldnt sleep when she was in the bed i could sleep perfectly just me but not with her some days i would sleep, my body would realise, then i’d jolt awake the vast majority of the time with her i never slept if she was there she liked having me there when she’d wake up; i was comforting to a girl waking up everyday to do things she’d never truly want to do most of our local relationship was: we meet for a few hours, she falls asleep, i cant sleep, she wakes up and leaves the stability of everything was grounded on how much i could hold on my shoulders coincidently, a friend with a new girlfriend, and a hard job, was going through the exact same thing. his cock and his sleep and his brain but he still has the girlfriend

she says even when I told you back then you you didn’t even want to do it I was confused I was like oh what do you mean what do you mean let me let’s backtrack here let’s “UNPACK” this and then I started to remember the incident and everything and I was like oh no hold on

she pointed out that when someone says errrrrrr they dont want to do something I said I say errrrrr whenever i think because it’s a thing that I do to everyone when i’m thinking of something for a long time that’s my loading icon for me to indicate to the person in conversation I’m thinking deeply on it there’s all these other things and reasons in my head i’m factoring in
i was factoring in that flatmates, the household itself, people opening the package, if it actually comes in the end because they’re just not reliable people, if it was 100% necessary for u to have it come to my house because this isn’t going to be that safe if it comes here

i said it doesn’t mean what she thinks it means for me from what she said, when everyone else does it, they errrrr because it means they just don’t want to do that thing

well, no, I’m not everyone else I’m me this is just what I do and I’m telling you right now i did this because i was thinking and if it was because I just didn’t want to do it because I just didn’t care i wouldn’t do the errrrrr because that would be stupid to mess with you rather than just say i don’t want to do it.

she kept insisting “no everyone does it that way” “that’s how everyone does it” “if you do it like that everyone that’s what everyone does when they just don’t want to do something”

I tell her I didn’t know what i did was how you were going to perceive it and then hold on to the feeling that I don’t care for months and then now drop it on me with all this accumulation of hate u have the wrong idea what you should have done is at that time when we were talking, you should have said “if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to do it” because if you at least said it like that then I would have been like “well, no, these are the reasons why I don’t want to and why I’m concerned about it” it’s got nothing to do with not wanting to do it it’s just a package; i can wait for it

“it shouldnt be my responsibility to tell you when you do something wrong” “EVERYONE KNOWS THIS. YOU should have KNOWN what you were doing” “EVERYONE KNOWS. EVERYONE JUST KNOWS WHEN SAY errrrrr LIKE THAT - WHAT IT MEANS” she couldn’t accept it “i tried to use an analogy of if i always eat peanuts and get pieces of it stuck in my teeth, but no one ever tells me, how will i ever know?”

you need to tell me

“it’s not the same. Everyone knows” it had to be like this i was in disbelief i couldn’t believe it

we were in spitalfields by some bikes

i didn’t really know what to make of all this? is she retarded? she wants to hate me?

she said i can wait for her went to see her friend i waited 4 hours she chastised me through text about how time is the most precious resource

i bought a ham sandwich went to wetherspoons drank a pint, couldnt finish it tried to mask my crying on the train home

the valentines day i’d prepared for the weekend made a postcard, found a place, figured out a whole dinner, borrowed speakers, created a music CD

we wouldn’t ever see that day

her uncle would laugh seeing how much damage his package did she had an interesting relationship with him too too overbearing; deeply afraid she was in a relationship with someone like him

now that im sufficiently drunk, i will admit i miss her aint that weird? you’ve read what happened. the best thing about her stubbornness is her blocking me trained not for a relationship but for its failure

and i’d been trained in life for things to always be hard yet all i wanted was for this one thing to be smooth. for once in my life to not have to fight to make things work; i just want to win in something by being lucky i wanted her to be the girl i spent the rest of my life with the girl i got lucky with
and my efforts reflected that. when i said there were 5 big decisions i made that led to us, there were far more, and especially when you consider hers, and what hurts me is ultimately it’s my fault. i could have stopped at any point and it would have been less painful for both of us. no matter how i crack this egg, im the one who cracked it. i’m responsible i’m to blame i hurt her; i hurt me it was a man’s doing

the reason why she broke up with me in the end was because her exams were so stressful, she was hiding from everyone. she was breaking down mentally and she hid from me.

there’s a video of me in her home; i’m lost in thought, playing with a balloon the way she described me in this video was “like a child” “you seem so normal”

because i am normal there’s no trick i’m just a man; i’m just a human

when i was 13, all the girls in the year groups above me on the way home on the doubledecker bus, would gush at seeing me they would play with me and touch me i was sooo cute; they couldn’t get enough of me i would pay them no mind because i rationalised they’re not being mean to me

the lady at the pharmacy would stop me to tell me how big and beautiful my eyes were she’d stop and just look at me

had i known i was just some years off those same eyes being used to incriminate me had i known what innocence i’d accumulated was to disintegrate right before me i wonder if i would have chosen to try to be more masculine like the rest of the guys, to shift to the new perception that they wanted of me or would i have continued to be just me?

those changes in pitch in my voice while we’re in conversation, those many inflections to show you how friendly i can be let me crack another joke, look how normal, how nice i can be

ishowspeed is the streamer who really comforts me because while darren is the same as speed in the end speed still has to be turned on for it’s what the audience loves to see

on one hand, there is no equality. intelligence, in all its many ways of being measured, defines how we navigate the world. we’re so stupid we don’t even understand our own intelligence yet it’s so diverse amongst humans that there can be no equality and especially no equality of culture culture is ideas and beliefs and when theres no equality of culture, there is no understanding between people it’s the single most important thing i learnt this year only a minority of people will ever understand my life and why i am the way i am even radically smart people, given all the information, struggle deeply to connect with experiences they haven’t seen. which was depressing to realise but what that means is

culture shifts and it’s the people that shift along with it, unbeknownst even to themselves, so you don’t have to change or fix people real change comes from who dictates the culture and intelligence probably doesnt matter

crying about feminism and onlyfans doesn’t shape the world according to your vision nor does whining on a podcast; writing a substack. people only do those things for money and influence becoming mgtow? - that’s called giving up my biggest critique of the goat kevin samuels is that his thoughts were always so rooted in the present. he had no vision for a better future

the mistake all the girls, the mini-revolutionaries whose entire identities were exclusively defined by what men did to them, made was that by focusing on how much they hate the world, they could never see what they love about it. they excluded themselves from being able to receive goodness. I’ve seen two girls realise this, and within months, one had a boyfriend who was a good normal guy, and the other’s relationship improved so much, i stopped hearing about it. and this relationship was two people who despised each other.

how did we let pointless ideology get in the way?

the beauty of this world is most people are selfish and hypocrites, as soon as we get a face full of breast, or a belly full of cum, psyops in the news become boring and dumb.

all one needs to ever do is flirt be friendly and flirt and spread the happiness flirt with the young lady; flirt with the old one too this is haHAA but spread the HAPPINESS

but the best thing about this day was the young man who taught me mahjong

a man of culture a man much wiser

and i think this guy just might marry his first girlfriend i know he can i know he will win