- Joined
- Oct 26, 2015
- Messages
- 246
Hi, my name is idiot. It's 5:30 a.m. and I actually find it reasonable to write down a field report. Anger is a great motivator. How funny is that. Not.
How many times have I been feeling beaten up and stupid upon going home? I've lost count - oh and my wits too! So now I'm Idiot. Capital I.
This year I screwed nine girls but I screwed up with a bazillion. They must've been all very creative as they always found reasons to ditch me. Creative girls are nice, but they leave me guessing. I don't have the slightest clue as to what their reasons were.
Did I mention that many of the chicks showed IOIs in the beginning? Now you know. Ah and that I still screwed up? No? Now you know. Hell yeah, they lust for me and I still manage to screw up completely.
Whatever. I enter the club, and pretty much "every" girl is looking at me. And "as usual" I'm not prepared for that. I don't even feel too sexy tonight. Anyway, what do I do, stupid idiot I am? Exactly! Nothing. I leave it for later. Actually I'm fucking afraid of talking to girls tonight. Not in "state" you'd say.
I wonder what's going on with me? All the girls looking at me and I'm still incapable of taking this as a sign that I am welcomed to talk. Why? Because "every time" I get into convo, I collect bad experiences. Yeah sometimes they're just "bad", but usually they're very bad - like having the girl choose some fucking shitface over me or whatever. Talking about shit - this year was pretty much shit altogether in regards to my experiences with women. Hurray!
Anyway there are about three girls at the club that turn me on a lot. And a dozen that turn me on. Two of them are looking at me very openly every now and then, but I still don't go over to them to talk. I'm with friends by the way. Well that blonde chick is suddenly talked to by some dude and I go: "fuck why haven't I talked to her first?"
Doesn't matter anyway, because when I finally do talk to her, things go wrong again. Upon letting the girl know that I'll head back to my friends, I offer to stay in touch. The blonde looks at her friend: "Do you want to?". That's the spirit! Thaaank you.
Maybe, if I'd played it cool, I would've gotten the number anyway, but it was all screwed from the beginning anyway. Why? I have no fucking clue.
I notice that, by now, there is no girl left that's actually looking at me. Oh wait, there is one ... but I interpret her look more as a "why are you staring at me?" Selective awareness is lovely.
Some guy presents me a woman and tries to convince me to give her a kiss. Omg.
I head home. Yes. Fuck this shit. I *was* opening other girls as well. Yes, I was *forcing* myself to keep talking to girls even though my pride & ego told me to "just accept that this girl doesn't like you anyway".
I also do know that most of the girls in that club won't go home with anybody else either. I still expect them to go home with *me* at least. Surprise, surprise: They don't.
I hate it. While I'm in the taxi I wonder if I ever get this game right before I need a walking stick to get out of bed.
I'll go to bed now, waking up tomorrow, finding myself in a world that appears "ok again", ignoring what happened tonight.
And when I go out next time, I'll repeat this shit fucking "game" again, that has me thinking stuff like "of course it won't work now, because you missed the first couple of minutes in the club, when you were still a king". What's wrong with you girls? If you found me hot upon entering what has changed, just 2 hours in??
Short lived passion, eh? Fuck you.
Today is the first time in my life, I actually regret ever having learned about pickup. Before, I always found reason "why" it's "good to know".
(*UPDATE:* I woke up with my laptop on my lap, still feeling bad.)
How many times have I been feeling beaten up and stupid upon going home? I've lost count - oh and my wits too! So now I'm Idiot. Capital I.
This year I screwed nine girls but I screwed up with a bazillion. They must've been all very creative as they always found reasons to ditch me. Creative girls are nice, but they leave me guessing. I don't have the slightest clue as to what their reasons were.
Did I mention that many of the chicks showed IOIs in the beginning? Now you know. Ah and that I still screwed up? No? Now you know. Hell yeah, they lust for me and I still manage to screw up completely.
Whatever. I enter the club, and pretty much "every" girl is looking at me. And "as usual" I'm not prepared for that. I don't even feel too sexy tonight. Anyway, what do I do, stupid idiot I am? Exactly! Nothing. I leave it for later. Actually I'm fucking afraid of talking to girls tonight. Not in "state" you'd say.
I wonder what's going on with me? All the girls looking at me and I'm still incapable of taking this as a sign that I am welcomed to talk. Why? Because "every time" I get into convo, I collect bad experiences. Yeah sometimes they're just "bad", but usually they're very bad - like having the girl choose some fucking shitface over me or whatever. Talking about shit - this year was pretty much shit altogether in regards to my experiences with women. Hurray!
Anyway there are about three girls at the club that turn me on a lot. And a dozen that turn me on. Two of them are looking at me very openly every now and then, but I still don't go over to them to talk. I'm with friends by the way. Well that blonde chick is suddenly talked to by some dude and I go: "fuck why haven't I talked to her first?"
Doesn't matter anyway, because when I finally do talk to her, things go wrong again. Upon letting the girl know that I'll head back to my friends, I offer to stay in touch. The blonde looks at her friend: "Do you want to?". That's the spirit! Thaaank you.
Maybe, if I'd played it cool, I would've gotten the number anyway, but it was all screwed from the beginning anyway. Why? I have no fucking clue.
I notice that, by now, there is no girl left that's actually looking at me. Oh wait, there is one ... but I interpret her look more as a "why are you staring at me?" Selective awareness is lovely.
Some guy presents me a woman and tries to convince me to give her a kiss. Omg.
I head home. Yes. Fuck this shit. I *was* opening other girls as well. Yes, I was *forcing* myself to keep talking to girls even though my pride & ego told me to "just accept that this girl doesn't like you anyway".
I also do know that most of the girls in that club won't go home with anybody else either. I still expect them to go home with *me* at least. Surprise, surprise: They don't.
I hate it. While I'm in the taxi I wonder if I ever get this game right before I need a walking stick to get out of bed.
I'll go to bed now, waking up tomorrow, finding myself in a world that appears "ok again", ignoring what happened tonight.
And when I go out next time, I'll repeat this shit fucking "game" again, that has me thinking stuff like "of course it won't work now, because you missed the first couple of minutes in the club, when you were still a king". What's wrong with you girls? If you found me hot upon entering what has changed, just 2 hours in??
Short lived passion, eh? Fuck you.
Today is the first time in my life, I actually regret ever having learned about pickup. Before, I always found reason "why" it's "good to know".
(*UPDATE:* I woke up with my laptop on my lap, still feeling bad.)