The whole thing. The other side you only saw upon awakening. I’ve been reading it for years and I’ve never had such a brilliant grasp of women as I do now. I know how it works, without sounding big-headed. I get it. It’s a sixth sense by now.
The plots, the ploys, the tests, the tears, the dual dynamic of AF/BB. The way women gravitate toward toxic behavior yet overtly criticize it. It’s like a literal switch. The cruel, constant paradox of more investment constantly being desired by women yet the moment it is given the attraction wanes. I have seen branch swinging so many times I believe we may still be monkeys. There is very little variation and I find that the few times I stumble upon a girl who I think is different I am always soon to find that I am wrong.
I’m in very good shape, have a medical degree and am becoming a doctor, have girls showering me with salacious and not-so-subtle invitations and a beautiful girlfriend. Yet no matter what I do, no matter how I act, I can never get rid of this dull ache of detachment since swallowing the pill. It’s like the little boy in me died suddenly. There are times I wonder if any of it is worth it. TRP doesn’t bring me true joy like before, just the joy associated with completing a task.
There is a lens that can never be fully retracted once you’ve swallowed it. Social interactions are observed with a keen objective detachment and judged according to what you have learned. Almost robotically seeing it in the cold gray light. Yet on the surface this is imperceptible.
I remember being a younger man, being free from it, but all the same much more hopeful, more emotional, more truly in love with women. There is a dehumanizing element to the Pill; a stoic, amoral constitution. Everything with people has a somewhat calculative tenet to it; every interaction being marked as some arbitrary ulterior design to become somehow more attractive. Always more attractive. But to what end?
Frankly I’m not depressed by it as I used to be, but I often feel dead inside. Not to say that I am joyless, but a lot of natural instincts are ignored and at times it feels as if I am a massive imposter in a sea of real people.
I have it all on paper, largely thanks to TRP, yet at times all I want is for it to not be true, to run home and curl up and collapse into bed. To be overwhelmed by emotions for a girl without having to constantly pull myself back and worry about becoming overinvested. There are times on my cycle to work where I dream of weaving into the oncoming traffic. It’s not suicidally rooted but merely a sense of utter disgust with the world. A desire to walk away from it. The world truly is repugnant to me. While the bluepilled world is delusional, it may be happier. And I often question whether finding the Pill helped me at all.