So here I am, over 6 foot tall, tanned, muscular, well-dressed, good-looking and hung like a donkey (modest too). And with nearly zero desire to go out there and chase some girls down. I feel like a nuke missing the firing pin.
I’ve never had the highest of sex drives, but this is plumbing new depths even for me. The bitch of the situation is, the fact that I’m spectacularly not bothered about women at the moment doesn’t bother me, because I’m not bothered. Annoying? Despite being unbothered, I’m certainly never going to acquire a top quality girlfriend with that mindset.
I think the problem is twofold. First, there’s got to be something wrong with one of my blood levels. I don’t know which one, so I’ll head off to the doctors to get them all checked. Testosterone doesn’t seem to be an issue – I train hard, 4 times a week, loads of squats/deadlifts, have no trouble putting on muscle, and feel like I could rip someone’s head off with my bear (sic) hands when I stride out, pumped and sweaty after a good session.
Second, and I really think this is more of a factor than perhaps I realise – there are very, very few genuinely hot girls in the UK. I can go literally weeks at a time in between seeing a girl who I consider to be an object of genuine beauty. So long in fact that I begin to question whether the problem lies with myself, but then at the last minute “boom” – some slinky, sultry raven haired temptress appears across a crowded street, and it’s like someone has injected a shot of crystal meth directly into my eyeball. I’m suddenly excited like a child, animated, happy, enthusiastic and horny all in one massive confusion of emotion. This in fact happened the other day, much to my friend’s bemusement – it was so far out of character from my normal “meh… she’s ok I s’pose…” Of course then, by the time I’ve finished capering around like a buffoon, the opportunity has usually gone, or I’m on a packed tube with 57 silent commuters. Excuses I know, but it’s very difficult to get in any kind of groove when there are so very, very few chances to practise.
Bollocks to you, UK women. Yet another reason to get this stock system finished as quickly as possible and get the hell out of here. It’s also hindering my desire to authentically hit on stunning women in the daytime – there aren’t any bloody stunning women around.
I’ve started on a daily dose of 5mg Cialis today as an experiment – I actually recall reading about this suggestion in some of Mr Jabba’s literature, although I’m buggered if I can find it now. It will either transform me into a lascivious lothario, or give me something to hammer nails into the wall with at the very least.
I’m so far past having sex with girls who I think are “OK”, or “kind of cute I suppose” for ego validation or to leverage gains in confidence from, and yet if I continue in this vein much longer, I might as well shave the crown of my head, pull on a cowl and move into an abbey. Additionally, having removed alcohol from the equation totally has cut out all of the drunken hookups, and the prospect of spending 3 hours on a date enduring tedious conversation with a girl just to get access to the holiest of holes doesn’t exactly appeal much either.
And yet, despite everything, I am happier and more confident than I’ve ever been in my life. I just want to get this addressed because I feel that I “ought to”, even though I couldn’t really care less – does that make sense? I feel like I’m missing my cutting edge, like a Ferrari factory limited to 30mph.
I’m well on top of every other aspect of my life, I just haven’t started attaining model quality women yet, and I’m stuffed if I can’t actually find any desire to do so. It’s like gaming with not only one hand behind my back, but also both feet, and blindfolded. Your core desire and sense of sexuality should drive the whole interaction, give it that edge it needs for you to move things forward.