2022.01. Sidebar. Obituary.

Saw two obituaries today. Men in their 30s. By their photographs they looked to be soft, overweight, nice guys. Brief entries. No cause of death. No spouses or children listed. No girlfriend or “special friend” listed.

I speculate.

Guy unwittingly goes along with the training he receives on how to behave in society, gets zero reward for it from women. Never becomes a man. Or, his woman left him (accounting for no mention in the obituary) and he believed she was his one. Doesn’t know what else to do. He sees no options.

I recognize.

Looking back to August 2021. I was at rock bottom. A mid-life crisis that somehow didn’t involve tasting this bitter lesson from an indifferent wife filing for divorce. Rather large scale indifference from women generally. Had I been one of the “lucky guys” (so I thought) who had found and married a sweetheart in my 20s, she would have left me.

Without learning game and frame (which started 7 weeks ago), I would never have built the character necessary to keep her. I would have conceded and chore-played her into stuffing another man’s cock in her mouth and I would have stuffed a gun in mine.

Diagnosis. I could not handle female indifference and I could not see how to reorient my life so that it was not defined by women.

Irony, then tragedy. The more women define a man’s life, the more indifference he receives from them.

I speculate. I firmly believed then that I would never have committed suicide. But in August 2021, I had to reject the idea. That means I considered it.

I have almost ceased to define my life by women. Getting ever closer. But I necessarily use their behavior (and sometimes that of men) to check my work. They are not idols, they are manhood compliance officers. The more I comply with the conventional role of being a man, the more they treat me like one.

Tribute.

I dedicate this effort to live up to manhood to myself (necessarily most importantly), to these nice guys, and to the crushing volume of other nice guys who kill themselves at the end of a losing battle with the diagnosis.

The world does not care about them. I was one of them.