Jason asked us to critique this post by this guy Daniel who is having all sorts of problems with women. Basically he can’t get laid with God’s help. I’m only responding to part of it here. I will respond to more later on.
Why Hasn’t Game Worked?
Hello everyone. I’m in a unique situation. My purpose in writing this thread is to identify the problem so I can solve it. It’s not to whine or complain. It might seem that way, and if it does, then forgive me, I’m really sincerely trying to solve the issues here.
My situation is that I’ve been practicing Game (not just learning or ‘studying’, but actively going out and doing) for the past ten years. I first found the red pill in the form of David D at the age of 17, and I’m 28 now. For that entire time, I’ve been doing everything I’m supposed to do: I’ve done astronomical amounts of approaches on a consistent basis in all sorts of settings both daytime and nighttime.
I’ve read up on different schools of Game, tried many out, kept a journal of my interactions, reviewed what I did right and what I could improve on, and generally conquered every woman-related fear that I could identify.
My philosophy on Game and life in general could pretty much be summed up as follows: “If you’re afraid of it, all the more reason to go and do it.” I feel that whatever’s blocking me from getting laid inevitably has to do with fear – and so if I keep noticing fears and promptly taking the courage to overcome them, then eventually all of that fear-conquering will lead to improvement in my life.
And as a result, I have almost no approach anxiety. I overcame approach anxiety years ago. I can approach just about any girl in just about any place.
It’s no longer an issue for me. I even used to have friends and wingmen point out the most difficult sets, and I’d approach them just to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid and to prove that hesitation and fear weren’t the reasons for why I wasn’t getting female affection.
But despite all of the work I’ve put in, I have nothing to show. I’m a virgin with the exception of times I hired prostitutes, which comes out to a grand total of five times. I haven’t had sex with any girl who wasn’t ‘working’.
I am not a troll. I am a man who has put in the time and work and courage to improve my life. It just hasn’t worked. And I’m trying to figure out why.
When I heard about Elliot Rodger, something in me changed. Things are serious now. I can see myself turning into him eventually if this problem isn’t solved. I’ve read the first 90 pages of the manifesto, and it’s like reading my own autobiography.
The way he describes the utter hopelessness he feels and the jealousy was like hearing my own story told back to me. The only difference between me and him is that I always believed in the possibility of success, and I went out and took the active steps necessary to achieve it. I put in the work, and I took the risks.
I’m currently applying for English teaching jobs overseas, so I can get a girlfriend based on the Murr’kin factor, i.e. socioeconomic status. But I’m concerned that this might not work as well as I expect it to.
I’m concerned that whatever the “issue” is with my Game is going to follow me wherever I go. In another country I’m sure I’ll get dates. I may get hookups. I might even get sex. But it’ll be based on money, status, and nationality – and how long will it be before the girl starts to play me, use me, dig for gold, etc? How long before my lack of skill with women catches up to me?
I want to figure out what the #$%^ing issue is.
So I’ve written a story about my life from the beginning up until the present with a focus on girls and Game. I’m sure there’s a pattern in there which one of you experts can pick out and be like “I found your problem!” At least I’m hoping for that.
My story is both inspiring and heartbreaking, hopeful and hopeless, and enraging and comical all at the same time. It will elicit mad props in one sentence, pity in the next, and raucous laughter not far behind. I think you will enjoy it.
So without further ado, here it is. Tell me what you think.
His quotes are in call-outs or quote marks. Mine are in normal type. His intro is in italic. Note: People have been telling me I am quite goodlooking for most of my life, so I will refer to myself that way below. Don’t take it as bragging.
As a kid, I mostly played videogames and romped around the house with friends – I didn’t care much for sports. People described me as strong-willed, highly intelligent, and cute.
This part makes no sense. As a boy he was cute. What about as a teenager? As an adult? Cute boys usually become cute teens and adults. But below he says he’s 5’2. That may be the whole problem right there. A lot of short men are just screwed, especially nowadays.
All of my friends were male, and I never had any female friends (something that persists up until the present day). But in elementary school, I didn’t care. Girls were like a foreign species; they weren’t interested in the things I liked, and I didn’t see any reason to want to hang out with them.
This is normal anyway. Elementary school boys don’t like girls. Though when I was 10, I liked this Chinese girl. I went over and sat with her one lunch and ate lunch with the girls as boys and girls ate in separate places. Boys saw me and called me a fag for sitting with the girls, so I quit doing it LOL.
When I got to middle school, that started to change, as I started to feel attraction and desire for girls. It was in 6th grade that I experienced my first crush: a petite, slightly mousy little blonde with freckles.
I was extremely afraid of the social repercussions for ‘liking’ a girl who didn’t like me back, so I was careful to never show that I ‘liked’ her. Whenever I saw her in class or the hallways, I would look at her as much as I could but would always look away if she looked in my direction.
Looks like he’s pretty shy. This last sentence is not good. You can’t act shy around females. They will never know you like them, and it will turn them off.
Eventually I asked one of my gossipy, “in-crowd” friends to find out if she liked me by asking her friends. He did as I asked and inquired with her friends, and he reported back “No”, she said she didn’t like me.
And the result was quite dramatic – the girl came into class the next day red-faced and embarrassed, and everyone was looking at me with a strange look – a combination of laughter, derision, shock, and, “Oh boy, look what you did, you’re in big trouble.” I felt totally ashamed and couldn’t even look at her anymore.
This is a pretty serious blow. I never had anything like that happen to me, thank God!
I dreaded the classes that I had with her. Despite this, a few weeks later at the ice skating rink (the popular gathering place for kids after school), I approached her on the ice and tried to start a conversation. She just stared off into space and shook her head, not even making eye contact with me.
Good, he approached her.
In 7th grade, I developed a crush on another girl. This time I learned from my mistakes and decided to ask the girl out directly without going through a third party. This girl was a little bit more outgoing then the previous one, and I had already had several conversations with her in various contexts.
So one day after the bell as everyone was going home, I approached her at her locker and asked her out on a date. She said no. But she was tactful about it at least.
At least he tried.
But in 8th grade I had my first ejaculation, and I started to be attracted to girls sexually. I remember sitting in my seat, and whenever girls would walk by me up close, I would almost cream in my pants just from their presence a couple feet away. I remember running home as fast as I could to masturbate.
That’s normal. 13 year old boys – or teenage boys period for that matter – masturbate a Hell of a lot.
In 9th grade, I started to become aware that other guys had girlfriends and I didn’t, but this didn’t really bother me all that much. I would have preferred to have a girlfriend, and I made some attempts here and there, but it wasn’t the main thing on my mind.
That’s a bit young for everyone to get girlfriends. I remember as a sophomore hardly any of the guys I knew had a girlfriend. I was actually one of the first of my group.
I did ask a girl to the Homecoming Dance though. She was a friend of my one of my friends, and I sat down to eat lunch with her and asked her to the dance. She declined.
I’m not sure he should have been asking out girls until he’s figured out if they liked him or not. I didn’t have a lot of girls turning me down in high school because I wouldn’t make a move on them unless they gave me some signals.
As the sun came up, I went out for a walk around my neighborhood in an emotional state which, looking back now, could probably be described as my first mystical experience. Everything in the world felt new, golden, full of life. I felt love in every leaf on every tree, every cloud, every rock. It was like the whole world was made of love.
I knew that what I was feeling was the taste of a love relationship, and that I could experience it with a real girl in real life.
Ok, he’s falling in love or wants to fall in love. Excellent.
The afterglow of this experience lasted for many days. But eventually I started to wish I had a girlfriend to experience this kind of love with someone in real life. I began to fantasize about hanging out with a girl at my house, sitting and talking, going for walks together, watching sunsets together, talking for long hours into the night, bringing her to my favorite activities.
I even started to feel a sense of emptiness when I did the things I enjoyed. They just weren’t the same anymore. I felt like I was missing something. And the more I enjoyed a particular activity, the more empty I felt while doing it. I started doing my hobbies less and less because it was getting quite painful to have a “good time” all by myself without anyone to share the experiences with. I started to dread having fun. All I could think about whenever I had fun was “This would be sooooooo much better if I was doing it with a girl.”
This is actually pretty normal, but I’m also worried it’s a trap. Hell, I feel like this a lot these days myself, but then I’m also strangely satisfied because I had a ton of fun.
I needed a girlfriend. Nothing I did was enjoyable anymore without a female companion. I left the house in the middle of the game. I took a walk, attempting to process the incredibly overwhelming emotions I was feeling.
He shouldn’t have gotten so upset that he could not get a girl at that age. I wasn’t. He’s setting himself up to be miserable. Don’t expect anything good to happen. Then if something does, you will be amazed and happy. If nothing does, well, I told you so.
After the movie was over, I did eventually find one pair of girls who had seen the same movie, and I went over and talked to them. I don’t remember what was said, but all I remember is that I left empty handed. When I got home, I cried. I was so angry I threw a garbage can clear across the back yard.
You can’t get so upset with one little turn-down. Hell, my life these days is practically one endless turn-down or shut down from dawn to dusk, and it doesn’t make me that unhappy. I figure it’s normal at this age.
When school finally started, I felt like a kid in a candy shop. At least for the first few days. I soon realized however that none of the girls were interested in me. I was perplexed. I didn’t know what to do. I tried everything I knew of, and nothing led anywhere.
I think when I was 15, no girls were interested in me, or maybe one was. I sat with her on the steps outside of the building after school and talked to her for what seemed like hours. She was really nice. I remember this male teacher walked by and saw me talking to a girl and was stunned and shocked and gave me some respect.
At one point, I simply leaned in and kissed her, just like that. She liked it but I didn’t press the matter. Never ask permission for anything like this. Just lean in and do it. She’ll go for it if you read the vibes right, and if you don’t, she will just gently turn her cheek or put her hand up to her face or turn you down in some way, especially if you go in real slow. You go in slow to give her an opportunity to physically stop you if she doesn’t want to do it. But in my life, they usually just go for it for some reason.
Or, Hell, they ask me. I had a date a while ago. She was fat and ugly, and I have no idea why I made the date. As soon as she was in the door, I was at her body, smiling and feeling her tits real gently. Her hand instinctively went for my cock and grabbed it. I guess with older women it becomes an instinct! That’s good too. She’s been in your house less than a minute and she’s already grabbing your cock! This is what you want.
Then she gently pushed me away and said, “Hey, not so fast now. Let’s take this a little slower.” I shrugged like I could care less.
She walked over to the table and then turned around suddenly, looked at me, and said, “Kiss me.” So I did it. This is pretty good. You want women doing things like this. You want them asking you to kiss them. It’s perfect. A lot of guys hardly ever experience that.
After a while, she said she wasn’t feeling it and left. I was turned off by her because she was so fat and ugly, so I was actually happy because I dreaded having sex with her. Honestly, if you are not fat or ugly yourself, don’t date fat or ugly women. You will make some comment about fat or ugly people or about being goodlooking at some point, and she will take offense and she will take offense and say she doesn’t care about looks. This is typical because by a fairly early age most fat or ugly women get ok with being fat or ugly. They simply accept it and start feeling good about themselves for being that way.
Relationships between goodlooking people and uglies and between normal weight people and fatties don’t work! If you are goodlooking or normal weight and can’t get a decent looking woman or one who’s not a fattie, just don’t date.
Then she contacted me a couple of weeks later and wanted to go on a “road trip” with me for a few days, staying in motels! I blocked her. But that’s good too. You want them contacting you and asking you out on vacations for Chrissake when you barely even know each other.
As you can see, even now, my life doesn’t completely suck, and it’s far better than those poor incels.
I started to sink into a depression. I stopped doing homework. I stopped doing my hobbies. I couldn’t bear to have fun anymore because the more fun I had, the more aware I became of the lack of companionship while doing it. My favorite activities were like torture. I slowly dropped most of them and dedicated my entire mind, life, and energy to finding a girlfriend.
He’s set himself a trap.
These girls lived in a town an hour away.
When we got to their house, they had several other female friends over. My friend hooked up with the girl he had met at the club.
For my part, I was outgoing, social, and funny. My friend was shy, silent, and rather boring – but by the end of the night, my friend had a hookup, and I didn’t. I didn’t understand why. It was a pattern that would repeat itself many, many times from that day forward.
I’m not getting it.
We visited that group several more times, and the girl my friend had hooked up with became his girlfriend. I felt it was smart for me to keep going there because she had lots of female friends.
I continued to be funny and outgoing, but for some reason the group started to make fun of me and even bully me a little – probably because I was the only single dude there, the only dude without a mate. Single dudes receive more disrespect and derision than any other demographic in this society. I came to learn that quickly.
This is absolutely correct, but you need to get rid of it by becoming completely insensitive. No one bothers me about these things because I look like the sort of person you don’t want to mess with. I also don’t look like I get my feelings hurt easily. Instead I look like I might get pissed – real pissed. Also I act like I don’t care, and when you act like that, a lot of people quit bothering you. If you look like someone who gets their feelings hurt easily, a lot of people will do just that.
As far as this situation, I don’t really tolerate this crap at all, though of course I’ve been in this situation before. You just need to take off when things get like this. You lost their respect and I don’t think it’s coming back.
I didn’t care about girls at all my freshman year of high school. In my sophomore year, I was still hanging around with these moron geeks and nerds from the Chess Club. I couldn’t play chess worth a damn, but I hung around these guys anyway. By the way, you don’t have to be involved in something to hang out with people who do. They will accept you even if you don’t do what they do if you are social enough.
Anyway, none of these guys seemed like they could get a girl with God’s help, and they were all these really geeked out intellectual brain dudes. Most of them had quite high IQ’s. For some reason, my idiot father was proud of me for hanging out with these dorks because he was kind of a brainy prig himself, and he thought it was cool to be geeked out.
These guys also tended to be effeminate. Some of them were pretty much flamers. I have no idea if they were really gay or straight or what at that point or if they even had a sexual orientation. I know I did – straight – and I wanted to keep it that way. I also don’t know if they grew up to be straight or gay men. Not all effeminate teenage boys become gay men. For some, the faggoty behavior is just a phase.
There were these two twins from elementary school called the Hunts. They were already acting like flaming faggots in 5th grade, limp wrists and the whole nine yards. Of course they were mercilessly teased for being fags, but if you think about it, is it absolutely necessary that pre-gay boys act like effeminate flaming homos? Do they have some flamer gene that forces them to act this way? Can’t they control their behavior? I’m sort of dubious.
Anyway, any kid who acts like a flaming faggot while he’s still in elementary school deserves to be teased. He’s setting a terrible role model for the normal boys, and by opposing this flamer, the normal boys learn to see themselves as the opposite of the flamers – masculine boys who disdain homosexuality and like girls. I don’t think it’s good to “accept” these boys, as I’m worried this effeminate behavior could be contagious. Straight male culture has strong prohibitions against acting faggy, even if you are completely straight. It’s a ridiculous way to behave.
Maybe they have to set up special schools for them. Some districts have set up special schools for the faggy guys, dykey girls, and nonbinary whatevers. For the older ones, the schools are for actual gay boys, lesbian girls, and nonbinary or tranny mostly crazies. This seems like the best solution. It’s a nice dream world where straight masculine boys accept faggy pre-gay boys, but I don’t think it will ever happen in my lifetime. Most gay men were probably teased and bullied as boys and most of them seem to have come out of it ok, not that it’s a good thing.
Anyway, we bullied them mercilessly. They were named the Hunts so of course we were forced to call the the Cunts, right? I was still hanging out with one of the twins in 10th grade, D. Hunt (chess club member and friend), and he was as big a flamer as ever. And most of those boys in that Chess Club acted like flaming faggots.
I never thought much of it at the time because I didn’t associate effeminate behavior with homosexuality, and I barely knew or understood what homosexuality was anyway. The only porn I had was some novels including Manchild in the Promised Land and The Godfather by Mario Puzo. You don’t think of those as porn novels but they did have sex scenes that my imagination turned into hot fantasies.
I decided if I was going to keep hanging around with these guys, I was going to turn into a flaming faggot myself, and this was something I didn’t want to happen. Back then we thought homosexuality was contagious and could develop in any male at any time, so it was something you had to guard against. I saw my father as trying to turn me into an effeminate homosexual, and that really pissed me off. Of course that was not his intention, but that was going to be the outcome of his ignorance.
I decided to rebel. The first thing that had to go was my “geek hair,” which in those days meant short hair. Girls hated short-haired boys back then, and if you wanted to get any chicks, you had to grow your hair long. Every few weekends, my idiot father would haul us all off to the barbershop to get our hair buzzed off in very short haircuts. This was called “The Haircut Express.” He would run around saying, “Haircut express! Haircut express! Let’s everybody go!”
One weekend I stood up and said, “No!”
Then the wars started, the Haircut Wars. I wasn’t going to keep my hair short and make it so I couldn’t get chicks. That along with other things might turn me gay. By refusing to cut my hair I was taking a stand and saying I didn’t want to be a flaming faggot and instead I wanted to be a straight, masculine boy. So you see I was putting my foot down and standing up for manhood, masculinity, and heterosexuality.
I tried to explain to my father that girls hated short-haired guys and if you wanted to get girls, you had to grow your hair long. This was insane and irrational to him as short hair meant manhood and long hair was faggy, effeminate, womanish, and especially gay as Hell. I might as well have told him that the moon came out in the daytime. That’s how crazy he thought my idea was. It was incomprehensible to him.
These turned into massive, wild wars with screaming, yelling, fighting, swearing, throwing objects and all manner of hellaciousness. Come to think of it it was rather fun though because part of me likes a good brawl. Pretty soon my younger brothers started following in my footsteps. I was now “the ringleader of the rebels,” in my father’s words.
About this time I started listening to rock music too. And boy did my father hate that. This was another part of my rebellion and another effort to get girls and keep from getting turned gay. Grow your hair long and listen to rock music and you can get girls. Be a short-haired dork who hates rock and sit in the Chess Club room with a bunch of flaming incels and that just seemed to be the road to faggotry.
He hated everything about the Counterculture, the hair, the music, the drugs. He used to talk about “Ayyyybeeee Hoffman” with contempt though he was a philosemite. His whole generation despised the Counterculture. The WW2 generation and we Boomer Counterculture kids were at all out war back in those days. It wasn’t even very fun. It was kind of a drag with a lot of hate and yelling and bad vibes everywhere. It was actually a nightmare and it went on forever and part of my is happy that the World War 2 Generation is taking off. They caused us so much unnecessary pain.
Age 16 rolled around, then 16 1/2, and I befriended a guy named Neils F. who lived on my block. He was the local bad boy sociopath delinquent surfer doper badass longhair dude. Since girls love delinquents, criminals, sociopaths, and aggressive assholes, he was also banging some of the the local high school girls who lived around us to boot while no one else was. He was basically sort of a criminal or about as much of a criminal you could be without actually being a criminal. You could say he was running Bad Boy Game, Surfer Game, Stoner Game, Delinquent Game, etc. He got me to try marijuana. And I started smoking it.
Whenever I saw a girl who I was interested in, I found some way to talk to her. It may have been weird, Beta-ey, white-knighty, stalkery, and ineffective, but I was trying.
Probably a bad idea to go after the ones you are interested in if you see no sign they are interested in you. More likely sit back and see which ones are interested in you, then make your move. But it looks like no girls are ever interested in this guy, so I don’t know what to do.
I even asked a girl to the prom. It was very scary – prom was a big, big deal. I was so nervous when I asked her to go with me.
But she declined. She had a look on her face that was like “Um, why are you asking me?” It was like there were two categories of guys, in her mind: Yeses and No’s. And I didn’t fit either category – I was “N/A.” Not only did she not want to be with me in a romantic context, but the very thought of me in that context was alien to her – it didn’t even make any sense.
He shouldn’t have asked her. Her response made sense. Why the Hell was he asking her anyway? If she shows no interest in you, I don’t think anything good is ever going to come of it. But these guys claim no woman is ever interested in them. I don’t have a solution for this.
This latter position was extremely prestigious, since I lived in a very left-wing liberal area, and almost every family was die-hard Democratic. I arranged for sitting elected officials to visit the school and organized events in which I wore suits and gave speeches from podiums and was in a pretty “Alpha” position.
There were girls in the club, and girls from outside the club came to the events to see the politicians. But this prestige didn’t do anything towards attracting them romantically. For some reason I was still invisible to them.
I’m not getting it. His problem is no one is interested in him. I don’t have a remedy for that, nor do I have a clue why that is.
When 12th grade was about to start, I contemplated my situation. I thought about why I had been without a girlfriend for an entire year. I couldn’t understand why everyone else seemed to be forming connections with girls and I wasn’t. Everyone except for my group of friends – we were the girl-less outcasts.
That’s still ok by that age, although really you need to get something going on by high school. If you miss out by high school, you are behind the game already.
There were many subcultures at my school: the JAP’s (the popular kids), the skaters, the goths, the black kids (I’m not a racist, but I couldn’t hang with the black kids because whenever I did, they would practice WWE wrestling moves on me), the goody-goody teachers pets, the nerds, and the Russian immigrants who looked like hitmen at the age of 16.
I didn’t belong in any of those groups – I was “miscellaneous.” Everyone who didn’t have a group was part of my group. I didn’t have much in common with any of my friends other than the fact that none of us had anything in common with anyone else.
I got into that situation where I didn’t fit in with anyone, so I become a stoner. That was the only way I could be a cool guy and join some sort of a group and come to think of it, it was a good idea. I also had surfer friends, friends on the track team, and some motocross friends. I didn’t surf, run track, or ride motocross, but I hung out with those groups anyway. You really need to find a group and hang out with it whether you do those things or not.
And my friends were just as clueless with girls as I was. I didn’t have any positive role models in this area. But there was one key difference between me and them: I tried to get girls, whereas they didn’t really care. They were all of the mindset of, “Girls don’t like us – oh well, let’s play computer games.” But I couldn’t settle for that. I was a fighter.
By junior year, I was having my first sexual experiences. This was a great time to start. I had sex before many or most of my friends did.
Being clueless with girls is not good. You are already behind the game.
3 thoughts on “Game/PUA: Why Hasn’t Game Worked? Part 1”
Thanks a ton for this post! How do you crank out what seems like 20-30,000 words of original content every month so easily? I am a writer myself and I can barely get past 10k. I think I need to start reading a lot more.
Anyway, thank you again for coming through with this article. It was funny and insightful!
I guarantee he’s either really short, physically unattractive or both, which makes him unable to trigger even basic attraction. “Game” doesn’t work if you can’t meet a woman’s minimum physical standards. You can’t “create” attraction where none exists. You can only build on ALREADY-EXISTING basic attraction. Sadly, the only real option for guys like him is to buy someone – get rich enough to find a gold digger whose willing to “love” him for his money, or go overseas to get a gold digger for a cheaper price.