Part I | Internet Crushes & Nihilism

in #love8 years ago (edited)


I have an online crush on a girl. Just one. In these times of public information and people choosing to have privacy, I will only write about why I think she’s cool and not reveal who she is. The cool thing about her is that she is indeed too cool for school to date me. I would have to be the Lou Reed of a formidable post punk band. Thing is, I am bursting with more sexual energy than Lou Reed ever lived for - so fuck that. 


The first time I saw her was on my instagram search feed. Her posts would somehow continue to appear at the very top among hundreds in the instagram universe. I never searched for anything in particular, but her posts caught my attention. As I entered her profile, and I saw her I just kept thinking “wow, this woman is so fucking gorgeous”. My first impulse was to message her and tell her exactly that - and she actually responded. My heart was beaming, and I chose to follow her. On her instagram she doesn’t post herself in workout clothes; she doesn’t do pole dancing; does not travel the world with five other women sponsored by some clothing line; she is not a model; she is not a famous person; she is not spreading some kind of gospel; she doesn’t have a particular theme; and to my taste, clearly, she is by far one of the coolest girls I’ve ever seen on the site.  


Her posts have passion behind them. She posts things like her favorite records; poetry; ideas about the world through her lens; her meditation practice; and encouraging memes for those who struggle and have gone through heartache… The other thing I enjoy most is her voice in her videos, and her sexy lips. I even asked my friend who is one of the most baller plastic surgeons in Los Angeles if she had something done to her lips - he said yes, but I am not entirely sure I believe him. All I know is that I am very attracted to her - I love her eyebrows, her lips, and her smile.


 

She seems like a healthy human being. Her personality is all there, her IG is like a scrapbook of her intimate views about the world, and what’s beautiful is how she uses IG as a way to transmit personal ideas about her everyday life into something fascinating that her closest friends, and creeps like me, would appreciate. After a few messages, I discovered that she is really close friends with another woman who is a friend of mine. Our mutual friend is a beautiful woman who is a baller in the vintage clothing business in Los Angeles - she is a person I have immense respect for. We would spend lovely time together: she would roll up her cute joints, one after another, and smoke me out. She would play songs for me. We would listen to each other and there were moments I opened my heart to her about the concerns I have for myself in this world. She would give me amazing advice about love, money, career, and such. She encourages me in ways that other people don’t have the heart for. And I loved kissing her, and telling her how beautiful she is. She was my valentine this year. She’s like this witchy girl that conjured me years ago when we worked together on a project. We almost dated and had sexual tension, but we chose it was better to stay friends - and grow rather than experience the resentment that comes with a tainted relationship. My crush is her friend.  


There is a line I crossed by essentially hitting on her friend without consulting my friend first, and it made me nervous because I felt like such a creep as I had never met her friend in person. At the same time, it confirmed what these women were thinking about me: that I was delusional. I admitted to my friend that I have a crush on her friend, and she expressed exactly the aforementioned, that I crossed the line. But she was still cool with it. She said she would ask if she would be interested in meeting me. So far, I haven't heard back, so I presume that it's a no. I think these women think I am delusional.

Delusional in that it would’ve been easier to ask my friend if I can meet my crush and instead I chose to remove myself from the possibility of a real connection, and construct the virtual. Delusional is what I am when I jagh, when I want to fuck a girl I really like and I realize it will never happen so I try to fuck her in my mind, in the same way people jagh to their virtual fantasies each day. The daydreams and thoughts that escape throughout the day like semen. Desires have a tendency to furnish what reality is not, it can be dangerous constructing thought patterns based on pure fantasies. Not to get Lacanian, but I know of my own fantasies and how to jagh to them properly. I am aware all this, and always realizing on a cosmic level how we’re all connected, even if it’s through the internet and shit. I am present. I am here. I know that crossing the line and writing to her is a risk of my reputation for the person of fine integrity that I am and possess, and am becoming. I fucking obstructed the life of another human being that I’ve never met in person by sending her a message saying how hot they are, like a true scum. I wrote to her that she was beautiful, and she accepted the compliment. The only thing, and here I am a my most sincere, is that not once have I jaghed to her IG, or even in a sexual fantasy in my mind. If this were the nineties I think we would’ve met somehow, and after meeting her and taking her out and getting cucked by not being invited upstairs at the end of the night - picture me jaghing to her pretty face.

  
I don’t actually fantasize about my crush. I believe in her, and that she’s a bright human being. I don’t think about fucking her. I don’t vulgarize her in my mind. I think good thoughts about her. I identify with her, and her mind. I am a true sapiosexual in this sense. I want her blood inside my head. She appears to bring joy and love to her close friends, and for that I have mad respect for her. She has actually inspired me not think about how I am a cuck, but to actually work hard at whatever it is that I do. She inspires me to keep pimping. If I am to meet this girl someday, it’s just going to be really chill. No desires. No bullshit. Just simply connect on a human level. Learn from her. I have nothing but the best of thoughts. 


I won’t be making excuses, but the thing is, after learning how the crush I have for this girl makes me feel a bit corny and romantic, I am no longer into hitting on girls on social media. I like this woman and there's really no other that gets my attention. Besides, social media tends to get boring when it comes to making connections. Not into it. And, beautiful women are everywhere so I have learned to soothe my sexual desires in a loving way. These thingsare a mental thing for me though, and the mental effort is not worth the time. I am just one less cuck from a pool of other men who write hundreds of messages a day women receive in their inbox. I feel this way because I learn so much about women each day. I learn about women’s talents each day, and write their bios, and I love them more for their accomplishments. Women make a difference each day in this expansive white-supremacist-patriarchal-capitalist dimension. That is, each day there’s a woman I learn about and I become enticed, I learn about what they truly want out life, and the steps they have taken to get there. I’ve written about filmmakers, actresses, entrepreneurs, athletes, sexual offenders etc. I develop a crush for each woman I learn about and write about each day. 


Whether I want to or not, there’s no turning back - it’s a good idea I keep up with the feminist trends since writing about women requires knowing more about the social fibers they confront within a system.  It’s inevitable for me to encounter POVs that stir discussions since everyone jumps the gun and becomes critical of every drop of ideology that surrounds the rhetoric of women’s rights, feminism, and so on. As a man, I don’t feel like adding my piss in whatever is stirring among women’s ideas about feminism. Like adding my piss will just be weird. I rather learn this subject than teach it. Mansplaining is not for me. I lend my ear. I can be your ally if you ask me to. Being a feminist is a hobby for some men, so I simply see these things differently than most people. I am not even trying to be a fucking player or a pick-up artist by tending to what women do, I actually don't give a shit. Maybe I am an internet womanizer, but I still haven’t gotten pussy for my efforts. Truth is, I really don’t have the fucking time to waste my time on hoes. I am being real, call me sexist if you like, and if you can convince me that I am, I’ll dress up like Trump for a whole month until after Halloween. 

(Now money…)… 






Crossing the line and expressing to women how gorgeous they are is a risk, and all guys do it, and have done it. Men who are successful do it too. I am not so sure how often women do it, but I think if it’s a hot guy they definitely would. I have not even started writing about power, and I don’t want to philosophize it either, but most of the time the reason people cross the line is because of power. The internet itself contains immense power on: information, human desires, and now money. Pornography has a hold on a lot of men in this generation. The way these women in porn are fucking demonstrate how we’re lusting after something virtual in human sexuality. Just as there are a lot of sex workers fucking for money on the internet, there are also other areas in the internet where women are sexually portrayed for their talents. I am only a noob cuck in all of this. The point is to learn about how women who are influencing the world see the larger picture, and not really focus on what “feminism” is, but how it is being discussed.  


The reality is that in this epoch, everyone fantasizes on a higher level than any other time in human history, and this era capitalizes in fantasy. The fantasies men have for women is at times unhealthy and not conducive to the discussion. I know what a bitch and hoe is, and a woman too, and if I have to fantasize about bitches and hoes, than I am a failure in life. I don’t have dreams of dating my internet crush. Nor do I have the desire of fucking her hella bomb. You know, like bomb fucking? I call it bomb fucking when it’s like the best spiritual fucking, and the best kind of sex for the individual. I don’t even want to date my crush. In fact, I may not even be her type at all since she's into scrawny white guys that fetishize the spirit of Lou Reed. The thing is, I leave it up to destiny if we were meant to meet each other in person. I learned my lesson long ago of the Buddha saying that goes something like: I deserve my own love and affections, bitches! If it’s meant to happen, than it will. And I think she feels the same way.  


This girl will be the last one I message about how pretty she is. I feel too much of a stalker doing this shit, and truly pathetic. The thing about DMing women is that they presume that it is a bit creepy especially if you’ve never met them in person. Unless it’s about business than it’s different as it is relevant to something valuable, and again, to power. But love and lust are arbitrary, and often times messaging a woman about her looks is ethically challenging. Hot women receive dozens of messages a day, so when I see women on their phone all the time I don’t blame them, they have to check these messages, and find a true baller, the one that shines bright like a diamond among the dozens. DMing is done for me. I am also not into online dating. I am not even into dating. I feel like women who are into dating watch the show Girls, and I wouldn’t be associated with such people - I am not talking about women, just people in general that watch the show Girls. Fuck that show. 

In the end, I am on a mission to have the sexiest abs in all of Los Angeles. I have Qi Gong to master. I am also trying to conquer the internet. I am nihilistic these days, but the proper term would be closer to leveling. As American and Western Culture hedonism and sexuality spreads like wildfire to the rest of all cultures, I am chilling: studying my motives, my veins, my brain, my breath. No wife, no girlfriend, no hoes, no bitches... but damn am I so down to help women's expression on Everipedia. 

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Lame attempt at self-deprecation humor.