No Plates?

[TheSlasher]

I have no plates right now. Maybe I could have one if I just texted this one girl. But she has a thing with my friend. But then again, it could be just my illusion because I will never know unless I try, which I will never do. Sometimes, we will feel uneasy, even depressed, when we don't have plates to spin.

"Find some more," "Keep trying," "Work on yourself," "Part of getting laid is also the numbers game, y'know," they will tell you. But does that really make us feel any better? If so, then you're done with your business here. Go forth, after all, they are all true. But last night, I have realized something else. Something telling me that you can choose not to go through the labyrinth of love and on to the staircases of strength, and the realization of that which rests within all of us since our birth.

I have realized that these irritating feelings, which we easily attribute to not having women, comes only in me during one kind of moment: when I am not focused. Heck, there are even times when I could just play Punch Hero on my tablet and forget about the chicks. All I have to do was play a game where I have to win the match and *poof* I am focused and I forget about the chicks. But it was different when I went for a run. It was different when I was honing my penmanship. It was different when I was practicing logical reasoning so I could get into law school -- a law school which I see myself being at, but at the same time, surrounded by people possessing too many of the things that could make me say at the back of my head, "If I have that, I could impress this particular chick." Things that I call blinding distractions, because that distracting and pathetic need to claim women's attention and compete for social status, blinds us from bringing into reality that which is in the deepest corners of our hearts. For me, it is to achieve greatness, to obtain the power to change an innocent man's destiny and deprive the guilty and the abusive of their freedom and property, and ultimately, to impose my will upon the world (not to people, it's much more fun to make friends with them, and enemies for some different kind of fun), to make the world the way I want it to be, to make happen that which I want to happen, and see the things I want to see.

It is then that I thought, that perhaps, focus could work wonders. But it doesn't feel enough because it feels that some fire is missing. As my friend said, "It wouldn't feel as good when what you're doing has no heart in it." After all, isn't feeling good what we all want? And that it just so happened that we project our drive to achieve our own unique greatness to achieving women? Let us find that which truly matters to each of us, the Life's Task that each of us are meant to fulfill. It is not necessarily the will to start the Second Nazi, or the first true flying car, but once we have found it, we can tell ourselves that we would not have it any other way. If some woman that we want to impress seem to like guys with sharp suits and flashy jewelries, and it so happened that we are a painter and painting the next Mona Lisa is our ultimate quest, then we can tell her with a calm face and an uncompromising tone, "I might not be the right man for you. After all, it seems to me that that is what you want, but I am not that kind of man. Go look for others who are like that, I will be ok," and then we proceed to finding the right woman to accompany us on our journey.

Let us find our Life's Task. Let us start our own journey and let its realization be our guiding star.

 

[Rave18]

And that it just so happened that we project our drive to achieve our own unique greatness to achieving women? Let us find that which truly matters to each of us, the Life's Task that each of us are meant to fulfill. It is not necessarily the will to start the Second Nazi, or the first true flying car, but once we have found it, we can tell ourselves that we would not have it any other way. If some woman that we want to impress seem to like guys with sharp suits and flashy jewelries, and it so happened that we are a painter and painting the next Mona Lisa is our ultimate quest, then we can tell her with a calm face and an uncompromising tone, "I might not be the right man for you. After all, it seems to me that that is what you want, but I am not that kind of man. Go look for others who are like that, I will be ok," and then we proceed to finding the right woman to accompany us on our journey.

Let us find our Life's Task. Let us start our own journey and let its realization be our guiding star.

I was thinking along the exact same lines, but you put it better. We are human though [neither God, nor animal] and each of us has to choose daily, the direction in which one wishes to move. Finding life's purpose or spinning plates, to each his own

 

[Masos313]

who cares man, use xvideos for now

 

[Rave18]

Roark stood on the cliff by the structure, and looked at the countryside, at the long, gray ribbon of the road twisting past along the shore. An open car drove by, fleeing into the country. The car was overfilled with people bound for a picnic. There was a jumble of bright sweaters, and scarfs fluttering in the wind; a jumble of voices shrieking without purpose over the roar of the motor, and overstressed hiccoughs of laughter; a girl sat sidewise, her legs flung over the side of the car; she wore a man's straw hat slipping down to her nose and she yanked savagely at the strings of a ukulele, ejecting raucous sounds, yelling "Hey!". These people were enjoying a day of their existence; they were shrieking to the sky their release from the work and the burdens of the days behind them; they had worked and carried the burdens in order to reach a goal - and this was the goal.
He looked at the car as it streaked past. He thought that there was a difference, some important difference, between the consciousness of this day in him and in them. He thought that he should try to grasp it. But he forgot. He was looking at a truck panting up the hill, loaded with a glittering mound of cut granite.

- The Fountainhead