(notice the glow on my chin from the book… golden pages, u serious? jeeezus…)
I am an artist.
In everything I do.
And yes, of course I have perfected the art of pickup too.
The more I’m reading of Strauss’ “The game”, the more I realize that I’ve used e-v-e-r-y single one of the techniques described in the book (so far, I’ve only read a fifth of the book). Interesting. I just didn’t realize people were calling old-school-basic-flirting, “using technique”.
It’s funny how they’ve picked out these parts of the human behavior (which to me came natural over a period of time as I noticed what worked and didn’t work in relation to other people) and just lined ’em up as steps to getting into a girls panties.
I mean, it’s not the sex-part of the game that’s interesting… It’s how we get a power-rush from affecting another person. Getting them to respond in the way we want them to respond. Emoting. Making others feel. It’s what all artists do for a living. Actors. Writers. Comic artists. Musicians. Comedians.
Sure, sex is a good driving-force to perfect your art. Any art. ’cause it’s some basic need in our being that can motivate us to go the extra mile, but it’s not what playing the game’s about. I can feel perfectly satisfied with only the notion that a man wants me. I don’t need to go all the way as long as I know he’s mine.
At one point in the book a pathetic pickup-friend of Neil’s is describing a very intricate technique involving mind control and Neil asks at the end of his friends speach “You didn’t get much love as a child, did you?”. “No.” the friend answers.
That’s me. And right now I’m in the process of discovering why I became this way. Reading this book, experiencing game-guys, seeing my own manipulative side (embarrassingly clearly, mind you) and making comics about my childhood to figure out what made me this way and if there’s a cure for people like me. Is there a way to stop this eternal (that word, eternal… I kind of answered my own question by choosing it, huh?) chase for affirmation.
I love the chase, the game, the sensation of winning a contest. I love it when guys ignore me, make me have to work for their attention and then casually gives in. I love to be entertained by conversational people. I love to feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. I love getting compliments. I love it when people see me and love me and adore me. Yepp… But that’s basically humanity, right? You’re all like this aren’t you?
Maybe not everybody… Maybe you’re the exception to the rule.
Or maybe I’m the exception to the rule.