Looking back, I think all of my goals I’ve striven to achieve during my time on this earth have been driven by a combination my social introversion in early life, my ambition, and underscored by my willingness to use my intellect to find a shortcut to attain them. I’ve realised that if I had to choose a motto that applied to me, it would be “Work smarter, not harder” – If I find myself toiling away heavily for little success, or failing outright, then I immediately start looking for an easier or more effective way to get what I want.
Once I became self aware enough to realise I was unhappy as a teenager, my first goal was simply to gain social acceptance from my peer group. I tried being friendly, finding common interests with people, and had some slow, but ultimately limited success. I then discovered that if I made it my mission to became the single most badly behaved child in the entire school, whilst erring just enough on the side of caution to retain my scholarship, I gained the respect, if not exactly admiration of a larger number of my classmates in half the time. Shortcut achieved.
Having amassed a small, but like-minded group of friends, I next set my sights on achieving success with women, of any calibre. Literally any, I really didn’t care what. Having studied until the age of 16 solely at single sex schools, to call me a Venusian novice would be like saying Jimmy Savile was someone who was slightly fond of young girls.
I tried being nice – white knights would have been dazzled into the shadows by the incandescence of my armour. I recall once nearly starting a fight with a boy because he called a girl a bitch. She told me afterwards she nearly went out with me just because of how nice I was. “Nearly” mind you. Nearly doesn’t get your dick sucked.
I then discovered that drinking copious amounts of alcohol enabled me to act in the way I secretly had always wanted to, but never had the balls – a cocky, arrogant twat. For many years, all was mediocre in my life, if not exactly great, as I tore my way through a slew of at least average quality women, suffering no long lasting effects from hangovers such as I do now. Shortcut achieved.
Content, if not exactly deliriously happy, I turned my attention towards my job. I’d achieved a sizeable pay rise in my first position in a short amount of time, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted big bucks, and I didn’t want to attempt to slog my way up the corporate hierarchy, nor was I ever going to brown nose anyone. I did my research, and then realised that when I’d accrued about 5 years’ experience, I could go contracting – temporary work, for double or triple the pay, and much more favourable tax conditions. I took voluntarily redundancy, held out for a couple of months until my money had nearly all run out, and eventually landed my first contract. Shortcut achieved.
The measure of social ability I’d achieved over these years wasn’t enough for me any more. I had just come out of a LTR, and realised I could either keep doing what I was doing, minutely growing in stature by year, or find a better way. With that end in mind, I took myself off travelling the world alone for 4 months, and in doing so, proved to myself once and for all that people would actually like me for who I was, thereby accelerating my development by a factor of 10. In doing so, I learned that I could go anywhere in the world, at any time, on my own, and make friends in a short space of time. Shortcut achieved.
Next came physique. I’d been a semi-regular gym goer most of my adult life, without ever really knowing what I was doing, or how I should be approaching my nutrition. Determined once and for all to master this aspect of my life, I spent weeks researching all the information I could find, eventually finding something which fit my philosophy – LeanGains, and along with it the ability to get ripped, with no cardio, training only 3 times a week for 45 minutes, and with only a moderately strict eating regime to boot. Shortcut achieved.
The quality of women in my life was found lacking once more, and the increasing severity of my hangovers and accompanying depression were making my previous “get wasted and caveman” tactic all but useless. I needed something better. I bought tailored clothes, used my writing skills to create a witty profile, and entered the world of online dating. Before long, I realised that if I left myself logged in at all times, I would appear at the top of the search rankings for members whose search criteria matched my attributes. Soon enough, I was the recipient of a barrage of (admittedly mostly ugly) winks and emails, with the occasional high 7/low 8, who I could then reel in, date, and shag. They were literally delivering themselves to me. Shortcut achieved.
So where am I now? My next set of goals include getting out of full time work whilst increasing my net wealth, and attaining the top tier of women.
I could spend hours creating a business from the ground up, whiling away countless late nights slogging my guts out, and in 10 years, have something I can be proud of. Nah. Instead, I’ve studied the stock market playing strategies of a few different people, amalgamated them, and used my IT knowledge to write a system which analyses the market for a number of metrics which indicate a good entry point for a stock. I’m about a month away from finishing it, and I’ve already witnessed its efficacy in hindcasting – it will require a time investment of approximately one hour a day to operate once completed, will free me from full-time work, and me more money than I could have hoped for. Shortcut achieved.
And as for the top tier women… Well, I’ve reached a bit of an impasse for now with that one. My natural desire to get very bored with new people, very quickly, unless they happen to be scintillatingly interesting, means approaching is extremely hard work. Opening is easy, but unless I’m in the mood to self-amuse, I cannot motivate myself to be animated and interesting to someone who is boring the shit out me just so I can get into their knickers – it’s not congruent with my character. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to shag them – it’s just the lack of enjoyment I derive from these sorts of interactions, combined with my strong self-identity which means I don’t need the ego validation of a successful pull, and a somewhat low sex drive, means I am simply not prepared to slog my guts out to achieve it. I want them to come to me, or at the very least, reduce the effort required in pulling them to near zero. A shortcut is needed once more.
This is time for all my other shortcuts to come together – fitness, style, wealth, education – and also time to create some new ones; discovering how to infiltrate the correct social circles, ferreting out the best countries and venues, honing my game. I am nothing if not competitive, and nothing if not adaptable, and where there is will to shag model quality women with as little effort as possible, there will be a way, you mark my words…