30 Days To X

The days keep changing, will you?

To the aspiring blogger…

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“If you’re going to try, go all the way.”

– Charles Bukowski

I receive enough questions about blogging to warrant a post about it. The following is my advice to anyone interested in crafting a successful website:

  • Write yourself as yourself.

So Hard To Be AlphaPretending to be someone else isn’t impressive. Creating some faux playboy/billionaire/athlete story won’t amaze anyone anyway. If you actually are some fat neckbeard in real life, write about it. It’d be far more interesting to read than whatever fictional story you may be tempted to concoct.

  • Don’t be negative.

I was going to write “no one likes a whiner,” but it’s not true. Losers like a whiner. People who have something to lose aren’t going to find themselves attracted to a doomsday profit. Unless you want to surround yourself with the slugs of society, don’t start a blog based in negativity.

  • Don’t expect to get rich.

I’ve never seen a blogger who was only in it “for the money” last more than three months. If you want to make money, start a business. If you want to blog, writing needs to be your passion.

  • Write for an hour every day.

Buy a small notebook and carry it everywhere you go. Scribble down anything interesting you experience throughout the day. When you get home, dedicate an hour to elaborating on at least one of those events. You’d be surprised at how many posts I’ve built off random thoughts that popped into my mind.

  • Listen to as few “experts” as possible.

Don’t over expose yourself to information from professional bloggers. I wouldn’t even recommend reading any of their advice until after your first month of blogging. After that, I’d suggest picking up a copy of Confessions of an Online Hustler, it’s one of the few good books on the subject.

If you have any questions or additional suggestions, feel free to post a comment. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

Drugged out

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“Now let’s get medicated.”

– Wiz Khalifa, Medicated

Everyone is on drugs. Not the fun ones, like coke or molly. Not the inspirational ones either, no LSD and no DMT. They’re on the lame ones. The pills that get you through the day. Make your life bearable enough that you don’t wind up hanging from the rafters. That would be a disappointment, eHow articles are a pain to follow. You’re poor knotsmanship keeps you alive. Someone would find you. Then it’s back to the doctor’s office to get your dosage upped.

This Is Your Brain On Drugs
They aren’t on these.

At work there was a discussion about what medications everyone is on. As it turns out, I’m one of the only people not taking some form of prescription anti-depressant or behavior modifier. I’m not really too concerned about adults choosing to live in a state of permanent high. However, I was shocked to learn that most of their children are on similar prescriptions.

There was a lively conversation about how various substances were affecting some of the kids sleep patterns, appetites, and attention spans. At this point I was sure that one sane adult would say, “stop feeding your children narcotics.” This never occurred. Instead someone chimed in “get a prescription for [whatever], it’ll solve that too.” I couldn’t believe it.

These kids were all in grade school. Their mental afflictions, acting child like. Punching others on the playground. Not paying attention in class. Being loud and obnoxious. Arguing. Everything they suffered from could have been cured with a family discussion and stern lecture. Instead they’ve been lobotomized by mass-produced chemical concoctions, depriving them of a human experience.

When it comes to solving problems there are two paths. The easy route and the hard one. In theory they both lead to the same destination. At the end of the day sedated children and well disciplined children will both stay out of trouble. Only one will do so through free will, while the other does so because his mind has been medically suppressed.

I’d rather be miserable in my own mind than complacently living in a drug induced fantasy.

Wisdom from a party girl

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“If God invented anything better than drunk sex with a hot girl, he kept it to himself.”

– Tucker Max

Every time I try and meditate I end up thinking about sex. It never fails. People assume I’m being introspective. In reality I’m just fantasizing about girls I’ve swooped.

Over the weekend I tried, once again, to properly meditate. It almost worked. I ended up revisiting one of wildest nights of my life and I pulled a lesson from it.

Writing under my real name and, occasionally, having my family members browse the site means that I’m going to keep the details as vague as possible. If you’re looking for a graphic sex story you’ll need to look elsewhere.

As fate would have it, I was in the same location at the same time as the biggest attention seeking party girl to ever exist. She made out with her female friend while a herd of neck beards watched. She flashed the bartender in hopes of getting free drinks. After a candid conversation about sex, she gave me a lap dance to “Rack City.” At closing time we left together.

Later we were talking. During this time I learned two things: she was almost a decade older than me* and her only ambition was to party forever. After getting over the immediate shock of how old this girl was, I inquired further about her goals.

Poker Face
My reaction to her age.

To paraphrase, she replied with something along the lines of “guys are more than happy to pay for my stuff, plus I’ll never get old.”

My meditation skills are improving. As I reflected on her words my mind took this concept of “I’ll never get old” and ran with it.

Time flies at an exponential rate, yet we rarely notice this. Being stuck in traffic for an hour feels like forever. Having ten years slip by feels like nothing. Early in the morning, when my mind is still foggy, I briefly forget I’m a grown man. For 30 seconds I’m 12 again, going downstairs to eat pancakes and watch TV.

The last two years feel like the last two days. When I was 18, turning 21 seemed like it was eternity away. Now it’s only a few short months.

“They” get old, we don’t. There’s no rush, we can get to it later. Tomorrow. Next year. Someday. We have all the time in the world. Until the very last second before we die.

* This story occurred while “Rack City” was still a club banger. I’m only 20 now. You do the math.

You are not a sociopath

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“I might talk about killing people, but that doesn’t mean I do it.”

– Eminem

Every keyboard jockey makes the same three claims: they’re hung like a moose, the coolest person ever, and a “give no f*cks” sociopath.

They aren’t.

How to Live with a Huge Penis
One book I’ll never have to read.

An actual sociopath wouldn’t be bragging to his friends, virtual or otherwise, about his antisocial tendencies. Some dude who’s completely insane isn’t going to question why voices in his head have told him to murder people. He’s just going to assume that’s what needed to be done. He was right, it was everyone else who was crazy.

Secondly, actual sociopaths aren’t social. Ted Kaczynski lived in a remote cabin by himself. He didn’t go out on Friday night to swap stories with his bros. Instead he sat inside, building bombs and living in a space smaller than my bedroom.

Even if the Internet had existed during his time, I highly doubt Kaczynski would have been using it to brag on forums about how “cold” he was.

If you have friends and can socialize like a normal person, you are not a sociopath. Even if you think most people are boring and have a hard time relating to what’s “normal,” you are not a sociopath. You might be lonely, disillusioned, alienated, or filled with angst; but you are not a sociopath.

Happiness saves money

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“That’s the best revenge of all: happiness. Nothing drives people crazier than seeing someone have a good f*cking life.”

– Chuck Palahniuk

Over the course of the weekend my only purchase was a piña colada flavored ice cream bar. I bought it on my way home from the gym. The price: $1.50. I survived two days on less than two dollars.

Sore, tired, and feeling antisocial; I stayed in. It was awesome. I read books, listened to music, played Chess, drew a picture, went jogging, meditated, did some work, took multiple naps, and went to bed at 9 pm. Had I gone against my instincts gone out, I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun. I’d have paid a cover charge stand around, wishing I was at home.

Staying In Is The New Going Out
At least there aren’t any Affliction shirts at my place.

Some of my best memories have come from events that were either free or cost almost nothing. Goofing off at the beach, hiking around the woods, and hanging out with friends. A high price tag doesn’t automatically mean you’ll have a great time.

Speaking of cheap entertainment Brains & Brawn is free until midnight. Special thanks to Manosphere Radio for giving me the idea for this promotion.