so spring is finally here in madrid, and the pretty girls are everywhere.

yesterday i had my best set of the year, with a pretty 21yo english girl studying art, who has lived in spain since she was a kid, but the bitch hasn’t accepted my friend request yet. what a cunt.

the chemistry was there. it was real. she was shy, blushed a bunch of times, especially when i teased her and qualified her and did false disqualifications. i was pushing and pulling her up and down the block. it was beautiful. i should have recorded it. i did great. real sexual chemistry. real tension. but like i said, she hasn’t replied yet.

so today, when i got another shy girl on the hook, i took her on an instadate. this girl was russian, very pretty eyes, shy, maybe mid or late 20s, she was here for work, leaving tomorrow. i tried to get her to come up to my apt after the instadate, but she said no.

still, it was fun and it was good practice. i took her to a new spot too, to give her a taste of old world madrid.

these are some good ones.

early questions:

“Tell me a secret about yourself. Something you can only tell me because I’ll never meet your friends, family or colleagues”

“What frightens you?”

“Which part of your body do you think is most sexy?”

“Who is the sexiest man in the world. Fiction or real, living or dead. Note I said sexy, not perfect husband.”

later questions:

“What do you like about me?”

“What colour is your underwear?”

“What is the sexual thing you’ve never done – and maybe never will do – but you think about it?”


i didn’t let people in.

i didn’t ask for help. i didn’t want to admit i needed any help, on anything.

i didn’t ask for advice. because asking for advice meant that i didn’t know what i was doing.

i was so scared of looking stupid, of showing weakness, of showing that i wasn’t 1000% in charge of my life — that i wasted time trying to figure everything out on my own.

and ultimately, i didn’t figure out everything on my own. i mean, i guess some people can, but i have to imagine that most people have blind spots that are very difficult to overcome.

for me, ultimately i got a lot of help — and still am getting a lot of help from a few trusted friends — and some professionals, too. starting to see my therapist a few months ago, that was huge. she is really helping me figure out some things that i couldn’t figure out on my own. which is fine.

doing the daygame bootcamp with tom, jon and sam — also huge. that was a massive turning point in my life.

starting to read the manosphere and learning the red pill from real men like roissy, yohami, mike cernovich, rollo, doug1, and so many others — very, very huge in my life.

asking for help is usually a physical act — hey man, can i get your advice on something? — but it can also just be a mindset shift. the red pill had existed before i started getting divorced — i am sure of that — but it took me hitting rock bottom, having my wife ditch me, for me to start thinking, shit, maybe there is something i am doing wrong here, maybe there is something i don’t know about women that i need to learn. maybe i need to rethink some things which i am just assuming are true.

now, i am building a small group of trusted advisors, of trusted friends, and i actually *enjoy* running things by them, getting their thoughts, getting their POV and getting their advice — it’s not only fascinating, but it helps me a lot in making decisions. the president has his cabinet, the godfather had tom hagen — it’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of intelligence to have trusted advisors.

ultimately, i still make my own decisions. ultimately, i still run my life. it’s my world. it’s my ass. and if i fuck up, it’s still my fault. no excuses.

but i just think it’s a better system.


and to add to this point, this is one of the tricky things about being a man. a real man is self-reliant, i think all of us red pillers can agree on that. and that almost feels like it goes *against* what i just wrote. how can i be self reliant if i am always asking for advice and feedback?

well, easy. part of being self reliant means creating a team, creating a support group, creating a cabinet of trusted advisors, trusted friends — that’s called being *smart*.

anyway, maybe that is obvious to you — if so, great — i am just throwing this in there because for some reason, when i was growing up, i felt that for me to be self-reliant, i couldn’t show any “weakness”, and one major weakness was not knowing what to do, and having to ask for help, having to get advice.

who knows why i thought that — although i am sure other men think this way too — let’s just call it a blind spot.

well, it’s a big one.

now, i ask for help a lot — maybe “asking for help” is the wrong way of saying it, of framing it.

now i ask my friends their POV on tricky issues i am facing — yes, that sounds better — or even sometimes, i ask complete strangers, or people i don’t know as well, but who seem to have insight on the subject.

it’s not a sign of weakness. it’s a sign of maturity and intelligence.

it’s admitting i am not perfect or omniscient.

it’s admitting i am flawed.

yes, i am flawed, but i am still lovable.


and the old style, that’s what i call being brittle. being brittle means that you pretend to be so hard, so tough, so strong, that you are actually weak and in danger of breaking easily.

now, i try to be more like the palm tree.

no excuses.


okay, here’s my excuse.

in july, i fucked the american CS slut. that was fantastic. didn’t get an STD or anything.

during the summer i was also fucking andreea. don’t remember if i started fucking her before or after, maybe after.

anyway, then andreea and i met up several times, either she came to visit me in madrid, or i went to turkey, or we met up in munich. the last time i saw her was in january.

she was going to move to madrid in march, so i was waiting like a good boy — no, it was freezing, so i was just waiting.

march turned to april, now we are probably breaking up — and all of a sudden, wtf, i am in a major rut.

this happened because i didn’t follow roissy’s 7th commandment.




Pre-daygame memories

i remember this clearly. it was over ten years ago, but the tension is fresh in my mind. i was living in manhattan, and i went to check out the cool art and design bookstore downtown, i forgot what it was called. it was near chinatown. i go in there to get some graphic design inspiration, and then this beautiful girl walks in. i don’t remember anything about her except that her face had me mesmerized. white skin, brown hair (i am guessing), and maybe she was wearing a white shirt and a light grey coat. those details are in my head, but they could be wrong.

she was by herself, also checking out the books and magazines. we were both checking out the low center aisle, so while she looked down, i could look at her directly. she was focused on the books, i was focused on her.

i was a coward. no, said positively, i wasn’t trained in the art of cold approach (ACA). i wasn’t ACA-certified. and also, i was afraid and i didn’t overcome that fear (cowardly).

i anguished. i watched. i was pinned to the floor. i couldn’t move closer to her, i couldn’t say anything. and then she left.

i watched her walk away for a bit, and that’s the end of the story.

fresh in my mind.

the lesson, as always: do your 1,000 approaches before you turn 40.

i think it’s fascinating.

sometimes i get the sense that artists — musicians, in this case — don’t even realize when they have created an amazing song.

right now the example i am thinking of is “if you could read my mind“, a really beautiful song, but it was the third song released from GL’s album — i mean, if he knew how great the song was, i am sure he would have released it first.

same thing happened with massive attack on their album blue lines.


if you could read my mind.png

i think.

or maybe not.

anyway, so the song creep, according to the verge, when it first came out in the UK, it fell flat, was ignored. it took the USA alternative crowd to notice the song and bring it back to life.

of course, now it is considered a classic.

here is prince’s version.

white and black people working together to create beautiful art. i love it.


i feel so good. man it feels good to overcome fears and accomplish things.

i worked really hard too. it was a three day workshop, thursday 3 hours after work, friday 3 hours after work, saturday 4 hours. i slept four hours last night. i was finishing the class materials and class was this morning at 10am.

after finishing today, i came home, showered, napped, and when i woke up i didn’t know where i was. i lost it for a minute there. and then i remembered that i was *done* with my first workshop, and this sense of pride came over me. hell yeah.

so i have this great feeling of pride and joy, but i am alone in my apartment, and i am thinking of andreea. i wish i could share this moment with her. also, i am horny as fuck.

i think she is going to break up with me. and of course, this makes me want her desperately. right now i am *exactly* like george castanza when he wants susan back, then he gets her back and he is thinking, why did i do this?

to pick a more highbrow reference, i am also exactly like tomas at the beginning of the unbearable lightness of being.

aka, i am fucking confused.

i am listening to this song right now, it is helping. so beautiful. except for the horrible chicks singing backup. they should delete that digitally or something.


executive summary: i am feeling this very weird feeling of tremendous joy and tremendous sadness and loneliness right now. it’s very weird. also i just woke up from a nap, so i am kinda disoriented. it is 7pm and i wish i could go outside and talk to some girls or take some pictures, but it’s raining.

and i am horny as fuck.

i haven’t fucked in 100 days.

and now prince is dead.

he would be very disappointed in me. i gotta go fuck some bitches, i gotta go do it for prince!

the horniest bastard who ever lived is now dead. we all gotta pick up the slack.

1. is my photography snake seduction?

2. i met elena on the street. she didn’t immediately open, so i pivoted from daygame to pitching her to be part of my portrait art project. i gave her my card.

3. she was interested, we met up for coffee, hit it off, she was recently single and had just quit her job, and her vibe was sweet, lonely, lost, and happy to be hanging out. so i invited her to my apt to check out my photography books.

4. at my place we talked more, looked at my photo books and my own photos, i played with her hands, and they were not stiff, they were pliable and soft. so i tried to go for a kiss and she pulled away.

5. now, i am really pissed, because of course i blew myself out. she doesn’t want to do the photo shoot any more, and i *know* i had some attraction, but i am guessing i pulled the trigger too soon.

6. that’s what happened on saturday.

and it’s working on me.

of course my problem is that i have NO BACKUP.

VII. Always keep two in the kitty

Never allow yourself to be a “kept man”. A man with options is a man without need. It builds confidence and encourages boldness with women if there is another woman, a safety net, to catch you in case you slip and risk a breakup, divorce, or a lost prospect, leading to loneliness and a grinding dry spell. A woman knows once she has slept with a man she has abdicated a measure of her power; when she has fallen in love with him she has surrendered nearly all of it. But love is ephemeral and with time she may rediscover her power and threaten to leave you. It is her final trump card. Withdrawing all her love and all her body in an instant will rend your soul if you are faced with contemplating the empty abyss alone. Knowing there is another you can turn to for affection will fortify your will and satisfy your manhood.

right now i am contemplating the empty abyss alone.

at arbys.


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