It was Friday night. I had no one inviting me out and couldn’t find any good wingmen to go out with. My events group starts on Monday. It’s forgivable to have a quiet weekend since I’ll soon be going out every night. The whole idea of my meetup is to solve the problem of not having anyone to go to cool places with.
It was 2am and I hadn’t exercised yet that day. I decided to go for a jog at the park across the street. I put on shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and runners. I put some keys in my pocket and then slammed the apartment door behind me. I soon realised that the keys I grabbed were the wrong keys. I was locked out and had nothing but keys and the shirt on my back. It was 2am. In my mind, the only thing to do was kill 4 hours walking around and get the spare keys from my Mum’s house at an acceptable hour.
I felt authoritative. Put together. It’s amazing what external circumstances such as starting a group can do for how you feel. I also felt ten times more horrified by my flaws when I realised them again. The hands of a 12-year-old boy. Endomorphic structure. Boyish face. It’s the look on people’s faces that makes me realise it. And in the reflection of shop front windows. It looked like a tennis ball on the end of a long skinny arm. This was a big one, a big recalibration. To learn that even though I was a leader now I’m not to feel that put together, that feeling of wholeness. That unalloyed, untested feeling of happiness with oneself.
I walked past Brunswick street; an entertainment district. I got an unusual vibe from these two girls cycling around as if they were dominant of everything around. It seemed like one of them felt the vacuum of me not feeling that she was dominant and then was propelled into my personal space. It hurt just a little bit because it never ceased to be my space. Mostly I felt bigger than the situation which is an improvement. I soon realised that there seemed to be some sort of broader matriarchal event happening in society. This has happened maybe 5 times and usually lasts just a few days. This was a relatively tame one (or maybe I just felt immune to it because I have my own authority now so everything feels less threatening). It’s all in the sub-communication, the feeling, the imbalance, the intuition of power. When women are like this it’s like they are bonobos. More than anything, they instinctively get in your space.
I remember once a woman walked up to my Dad’s car while he was parking it and she grabbed the parking ticket on his window and handed it to him, smiling at herself. We were both surprised and offended Once I was sitting at a coffee shop where there were plenty of free tables. A woman walked up and put her drink on my table while she looked out the window. Very rude in my view, partly because of her blase manner. You might as well sit on my porch or scooter without asking. I called her out and she was happy to move along. I wasn’t satisfied that we were even yet so I called her out on it again saying it was rude. She defended her actions saying the tables were for everyone. I said no because there are plenty of free tables and she began to look unsure of herself. In a deliberate act of disrespect, I rubbed her on the head on the way out to get her back for invading my personal space. Later feeling embarrassed about it. It’s a subtle thing, either of us can be right, it all depends on the paradigm. However, I have a strong preference for the paradigm where people respect me. It’s much easier to do the work of the mind (as I naturally do in most moments) when there’s a feeling of space and everything being in order.
Some would say I’m crazy to be reading into things like this and they could be right. It’s as plain as day to me. It is more adaptive to think in terms of concrete phenomena and not assign too much meaning. This is difficult for someone who is a natural writer though.
I soon felt a feeling of discomfort which has become quite foreign to me. The feeling of doing something away from a warm room and a screen; because there’s no other option. Of having to struggle a bit physically. How it was as we evolved. It was unpleasant at first but by the end of it, I felt a great and sustained surge of wellbeing. I felt like a natural man again.
I took a detour through a vast park that I’ve never known been. Haven’t felt fear like that in quite some time. Fear of being in the dark. Fear of someone in the dark with bad intentions. I’ve probably spent ten times more time walking around dark scary places than most people. At times I’ve challenged myself by climbing into even darker, scarier places. Such as the deathly river valley in the dark park. The older I get the more it seems that I’m pushing my luck and one day will run into someone evil. It hasn’t happened since I gave up drugs and alcohol, as a teenager.
The sun was rising when I got there. I was exhausted and sleep-deprived. I couldn’t find the keys. So I slept. Until 3.30pm. The keys were there when I woke up. I ate some sardines on toast and some fruit. I borrowed $2 from my brother’s desk for a coffee. I then embarked on the journey back, for some reason deciding to walk.
I passed an overweight girl and thought to say something. It’s good for your anxiety to talk to everyone. I said “hey” as I was walking past. As soon as I said that her eyes went from smiling and receptive to glazed over, looking straight ahead and not saying a word. It seemed very much like an automatic or programmed response. I wasn’t surprised. Fortunately, my intent was simply to say something, not to get a reaction. Was it rude? That’s like asking was it rude for the lady to put her drink on my table. It depends on the paradigm. At the very least it was insensitive to my paradigm because from my paradigm it was weird and rude to ignore someone.
For some reason on this day, I just felt like talking to people as I was walking. All in all, I spoke to over 12 people. This is more than I’ve ever been able to manage. Even though many dating coaches recommend talking to large numbers of people, I’ve never been able to manage it. I think it’s a sense of shame about doing it. It’s an inhibition that’s been gnawing at me for some time that felt positively orgasmic to alleviate.
The first few ignored me. The second few acknowledged me. The next few stopped to talk. Some Spanish speaking girls even showed attraction for me. I was walking around in dirty clothes feeling completely brand new. I felt a new quality of being self-amused, whimsical, irreverent. High vibration. I felt like a lover, not a provider. Usually, when women walk past their energy feels closed off and rejecting. Now though, it felt as if they would want me to approach them or at least that they weren’t creeped out by me. They felt a bit attracted to my energy which was good because it didn’t hurt me. I was free.
I got home and took a much-needed shower. I rode home on my scooter to drop the keys back off in case it happens again. I came to Glenferrie road, which is where I grew up. I always felt that the social pressure there was palpable, insurmountable. It is an affluent area, the egos are too strong. Talking to people as I walked past there though has made that disappear. Transformed my worldview (or local view). My body relaxed into the space around it as I waited at a traffic light. I looked into the car that was passing by and saw a woman laughing while looking at me, like a big blonde tomato. I felt that pressure but that wasn’t me anymore. I had stepped out of the box that morning. My body learned what it was like and my energy expanded. I felt like Napoleon riding around on his horse as I returned to the inner city.