I’m going to try and start posting a bit more regularly, whenever I get the yen. It might not always be of the highest quality, or a profound insight into the meaning of life (truth be told, it’s very difficult to come up with truly original content around here these days), but it will be something of interest to me at that particular point in time.
I’ve spent the day today working from home. It’s something I used to do a lot more regularly a few years ago, taking every Monday and Friday out of the office. “Great!” you might think, a 4-day weekend ever week. And truth be told, at the time, it was. I got to slob around, just replying to the occasional email to prove that I wasn’t in fact sat at home playing World Of Warcraft (when I was), and it generally fit my lazy beta mindset like a glove.
As time has gone by, especially in the last 6 months or so, I simply cannot abide extended periods of inactivity. I notice the effect it has on me on a daily basis – I get up for work, go through my (admittedly somewhat excessively vain) morning routine of about 20 different things, stride out of my apartment in a crisp, starched, tailored shirt and make my way into the office via the tube. Walking around, getting checked out by girls, receiving envious glances from dudes, chatting to strangers, making checkout operators laugh with my stupid banter, all serves to build my state up into a frothing, churning cauldron of positivity and confidence.
By the time I get into the office, I’m on top of the world. And then I sit at my desk, the screens flicker on, and I’m presented with a barrage of the most trivial, banal bullshit you can imagine. People getting their panties in a twist over the most inane crap imaginable. Minute by minute, as I sit immobile in my chair, the joy leeches out of me, my mood turning more and more in on itself, until by lunchtime I’m quite unrecognisable from the person who walked so jauntily into the office not 4 hours prior. It takes until I leave the office, complete my workout and buy my evening meal for my state to recover anywhere near back to what it was.
I simply cannot abide inactivity. I am at my best when I have a purpose, a clearly defined goal, a reason for being. It doesn’t matter if it’s something so trivial in the short term as merely commuting to a destination, or whether it is my overarching goal of retirement by the end of the year – just the very fact that I have purpose instils a sense of masculine drive within me.
Even at weekends, when I’ve got no real reason to get up, I have to create some sort of fake structure to my day, so that I don’t just sit around and slip into a torpor. A far cry from the man who quite happily pissed a year of his life up the wall on an online computer game, who used to deliberately subdue his brain by smoking bushels of weed on a daily basis, who drank himself insensible to quell the inner torment of his doubts. I love life, I love being around and interacting with new people, and I love having a goal. It energises me, and it attracts people to me – especially women.
Beta men drift through life, purposeless, with no direction, unsure of who they are, where they are going, and what they want out of life. They might have some vague, half-assed notion of wanting to be good with women, or rich, but no concrete details in their mind on how the hell they intend to get there, nor the motivation to follow it through even if they did.
Always ensure you’ve got goals in your life, short term, medium term, and long term. You’ve only got one life here, so make the most of it. Don’t look back at the end and think “I wish I’d done more of the things I wanted to”.