Imagine you’ve been shot to pieces and have seconds left to live. Or perhaps you are on your death bed, cancer has eaten you alive and you’ve got minutes left to live. Or hey, maybe you’ll be lucky enough in this polluted world of leaking radioactive power stations and genetically modified crops soaked in toxic chemicals to live until your old age and die peacefully in your sleep.
Now, take your girlfriend, wife, squeeze, ONS, or slut you just met two minutes ago and look them in the eye. Think if they are the one you want to say your last goodnight to. Would you want this person holding your hand at your bed, or at the side of the road as you gasp your last breath after a tragic car accident?
The plane you’ve taken on a weekend vacation is going down. It’s out of control approaching the ocean at 1000 km/h. Whose hand do you want to hold? Or would you rather just grab your own balls and wish them goodbye? A meteorite is about to hit earth, would you want to spend your last evening with this chick?
I wonder how many men in LTRs would admit quite the contrary. Suddenly most of the women I’ve dated and even the ones that lasted, giving me an unhealthy dose of oneitis, fade into background noise.
In a hospital situation, where doctors know that death is near, I’d probably just want to be on my own and take a last look at the blue sky out of the window. Thus I’d need a woman in my life that might understand that she needs to leave, without me having to expend my last ounce of vitality on getting the bitch to follow instructions. Better still perhaps having people care for me in this situation would just be an emotional burden I don’t really need. Take your pity and fuck off and let me embrace my own death.
The Clock Is Running Out
Ultimately, life becomes so much easier when you put it into finite terms. We think we’ll live for ever, but in truth we are all in the process of dying. It’s happening a little slower than we can easily comprehend, but it is happening. The ultimate red pill truth is both the easiest to understand and the hardest to embrace. Smoking might kill you a little faster, but it’s life that’s the real problem.
These moments you are wasting on my paltry writing are part of your dying breaths. There are only 10,080 minutes in a week. You spend roughly half of those on sleeping, eating and other mundane bodily functions and chores, leaving you with only 5,000 minutes left in a week and you’ve just wasted five of them right here.
How many minutes are you going to waste on that cuntbag you are with, who offers you nothing more than a warm hole and a bucket load of unbalanced emotional blackmail? You’d get a better rush doing some auto-erotic asphyxiation than fucking that tart.
How many minutes are you going to waste in that shitty job that’s going nowhere fast and barely pays your monthly living costs. It would be more interesting living under a bridge in a cardboard box than dreaming your life away in a cubicle.
How many minutes are you going to waste on those ‘mates’ who drink too much and talk nothing but shit? How many minutes are you going to waste on your dysfunctional family that always manages to put an imaginary gun to your head over something? Why is that TV or computer screen so fucking captivating that you allow precious minutes to slip by? Is your apartment, car, motorbike, gun, boat, gym, etc. so important that you can’t do without it ? Every few breaths you take, every blink of your eye, you are a few moments closer to death.
Tick Tock
If you can take anything with you at all it will be the experiences, the internal video dialogue, the screenshots imprinted from your eyes onto your soul. You can’t take your digital camera or your smart phone library of photos with you. All those selfie photo-ops do is to stop you from appreciating the actual moment in time you are living.
I’d strongly suggest that you start imprinting interesting and exciting things on to your soul, lest it finish this life feeling emptier than used McDonald’s wrapper . That doesn’t mean you have to drop everything and run off to meditate in Tibet or sail single-handed across the Pacific Ocean, but you must live each breath with a conscious focus, a vigor and vitality that they deserve.
Suddenly the whole subject of females becomes rather unimportant and there are so many better things to do, and if some bitch should even dare to switch on the slightest little girlie head games, childish crap that’s barely tolerated in a high school because the kids are not old enough to know better—just walk away. It’s as simple as that.
Climb up the nearest hill and watch the sunset. Take a run along the beach. Walk though the forest. Go dance like a maniac to some techno music. Jump in a freezing cold lake. Shoot a gun, climb a mountain, run around in the local park like a kid. Climb on the roof of your building and watch the stars. Walk up to strangers and just say hello. I guarantee you in this frame of mind, you’ll be ten times more confident than they are.
Do just about anything to make yourself feel alive and free while avoiding anything that makes you feel trapped and restricted. You know what will happen. Lots of other people will start joining in, because they want to feel free as well. If there is a hell it’s right here, right now, buried in our own psychological state, and if there is a heaven it’s in every living waking breath and in every conscious experience we absorb.
In between their activities, the animals when they have nothing else to do, just sit and watch and wait. That is when they feel alive and their soul downloads whatever snapshots it needs to take with it. An animal has a constant hardwired fear of death, because it doesn’t have the capability to rationalize it’s own death and it’s environment is more dangerous, yet even in that limited state it is still able to appreciate it’s life.
When was the last time you did that?
The only reason we are afraid to feel alive, is because we are frightened of realizing that we are in the process of dying. The only reason we are obsessed with getting laid, is because it’s about the only time we naturally feel alive, without having to make a little effort to do so. The only reason we are losers, is because loss and failure makes us feel a little more alive. We’re frightened of success, because that requires really living, which means accepting that death is around the next corner.
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