Thursday, March 2, 2017

Young man lost in the modern world

This is part of a letter to a friend.  I later shared this here, at The Gentleman's Club. And now I am am sharing it here.

I was still in my early twenties and I was in a relationship with a young girl that made me crazy (and weak). I was uneducated and trying to find good work doing anything really – I was hustling on the side doing whatever I could to make money, mostly working in night clubs promoting or throwing my own parties in Juarez, but I wanted something more – like all young men, and looking for someone to teach me something… college was not for me and I was not about to join the military – I figured out as a young man that the only winners in wars are the ones selling the guns and loaning out the money. There was no one around to teach me anything not even how to pull off a decent hustle. My parents had nothing important to teach me, my brothers weren’t going to teach me and all the other men in my life were clueless… and I did ask older men for advice, no one had anything to offer but stupid sayings that really will do you no good when you are young and trying to build an important life – and that is what I wanted when I was young. Everything I knew I taught myself… it would not be until many failures that men would come into my life and help me relearn all that I thought I knew and help me to fine tune and work out the kinks in what I had learned on my own… and to these men I will always owe a dept of gratitude and kindness… remember that last statement – I will circle back around to it later.

He was an engineer of some kind – this old man that slammed the door in my face…
My girl friend’s mother had gone through three or four live in boyfriends since I knew them, this old worthless fart was the last one I knew before I left that girl and I do not remember his name – it is not important as the man himself is not important and deserves no kindness or respect from me other than what I already gave him when I knew him – No, I never disrespected him, nor was I ever rude to him or my girl’s mother… they however showed very little kindness to me and what ever bits of civility came only for the sake of the girlfriend…

Back then, as today, I did not drive (I have always had personal problems with licenses and permits) and took the bus or I would walk – I walked to her apartment – they were always changing apartment… it was not a far walk from where I was but I wanted to see her – I do not know why anymore but I made the walk to her place and knocked on the door – the old man opens the door and I greet him politely and ask to see her… he tells me she can not see me and that I cannot just show up whenever I like… I am confused and say I did not know it would be a problem and that I just need a moment with her. He tells me that it is a problem and that she cannot come to the door – I say I can wait outside for her – he says – “it’s time for you to leave” and I (really confused) say – “why are you so rude, I have never done anything” and he looks at me and says – “that is why…” It took me a moment to figure out what he just said and I quickly put together that because I had done nothing with my life I was not good enough to be with this young girl that he was not remotely related to in any way shape or form – not in this reality at least… and I, out of desperation, could only shrug my shoulders with palms open ready to receive wisdom that would make me a better young man, a young man worthy of just a little bit of respect from the world… I was pleading in silence… in simple but unmistakable gestures… give me something old man… point me in the right direction… give me a stupid saying from your generation… a bible quote… any little bit of advice… nothing… he didn’t even shake his head in disgust at me, he just shut the door and left me there looking and feeling like a fool…

Worthless piece of old man shit – I hope he burns in hell. That was very un-Christian of me to say and it is the behavior of a pissed off bitter little boy… well, that was just how it affected me… I do not remember that man’s name but I will never forget that moment… I do not remember what followed that… a lot of my memories of those days get jumbled up in the alcohol and drug haze that came after I broke up with the girl – but my memory tries to tell me that I stuck around outside waiting for her to come out – I can’t be certain nor do I even recall if I spoke to her about what happened… but I don’t think I did nor do I believe she would have actually given a fuck about it…

Even nice guys aren’t good enough – and that proved it to me – it was, to this day the only time a man shut the door on me – I have had men tell me they disapprove of me being with their daughters but they never slammed the door on me. They never tried to stop me or prevent me from seeing their daughters but they never slammed the door on me – I have never been disrespectful to any girls parents nor have I ever been rude to any of them… even when I was falling into the abyss and lost myself in the fucking rampage… but no one ever offered me a helping hand or a kind word of warning or advice… and so it was.

Since then – the things I have done with my life… well, most of them are bad things, most had no honor in them and were done mostly for my own greed and not for the betterment of mankind and the world and not really for my own personal growth – just greed… get it out of the way while you’re young and you can… and the good things – there weren’t many and no one is going to care really – no one will remember you for the good things you did – I truly believe that – the world does not want a hero, it does not want a good and righteous man to come and remind them of how worthless their own life is… the world is begging for a strong dominant leader to save them from themselves and give them a painful spanking with soothing words afterwards – “it’s not your fault, but daddy’s here now to show you the right way”, a leader who will do all the thinking for you while you zombie out on facebook and sports t.v. and dancing with the has been. This is not the age of the hero but of the villain. It is an age where the good guy truly will finish last – if he finishes at all. It is an age when the man of honor and integrity is laughed at and shunned for his loyalties and his pride and for his beliefs – it is the age of the victim where the man who has built a successful life is portrayed as the oppressor and the dignified hard working traditionalist is the equivalent of a member of the NAZI party… insane, I know. But this is the world we live in – where good men surrender their dignity to board an airplane and silence their true feelings just to hold onto their miserable jobs. Remember (name) we live in a world where women do not want nice guys, a world where the women that cry rape culture sweep the raping of Europe under the rug… a world where the kids that occupied Wall Street throw their full support for a woman that had all the financial backing of Wall Street and the Globalist elite… No, the good things you do for the world or for others will only be remembered by men of honor and those men are few and hard to find.

My last mentor, Dagmar’s father, is a man that became successful by helping other men. He became important by taking lost young men and turning them into men of honor and built a network of business men, attorneys, doctors, politicians, financiers, brokers and bankers, and even soldiers and a hustler here and there. He got to where he is by doing favors and collecting on those favors, not by collecting other men’s secrets but by sharing his own and sharing his vast network of disciples with – his vast network of disciples, of course… Don’t know why he took me in – nor why the other men that helped me helped me when they did – they were men I never asked anything of, but they helped me up, dusted me off and took me in and tried to teach me something – I know I was a stubborn and difficult pupil and went about taking the long hard road to learn the lessons they tried to help me avoid… but I got there eventually. The Master pointed me in the direction and gave me space and time to absorb and learn and made himself available to ask all the questions I needed to ask and provided me with the best answers he could give and if there was something he could not answer, together we would find the solution – it is the way he did things. He showed me his world, his life… his reality and made me believe it was in reach for someone like me… I did not accept his offer to go study under another man which he had helped – a man in his network of disciples and learn to make a living in a respectable field as the others… I had to do things on my own – but, I do wish I had decided back then on the life I wanted and taken him up on the offer and gone to work in a brokerage back then instead of doing it alone.

Earl Nightingale tells us that success is “the progressive realization of a worthy goal” and that success is a man doing what he wants to do because that is what he wanted to do and he is doing a good job at it – very true words as far as my own beliefs and I do not compare my life to others – I do not compare what I have or what I do not have… how I live and how I do not live to the lives of others… I live my life in pursuit of the life I wish to have and form and shape my reality into the way I want it in accordance to the life of the man I wish to be… But (name), this also is true, and it is true for the most humble of men to the most powerful of men in the measurement of success and I learned this from my teacher – it is not something he told me or ever hinted at, it is something I learned from observation and the only thing that I do use to measure my own success… in comparison to other men, that is – the number of men you can rely on to help you out – no questions asked, when you find yourself  in need of assistance no matter what that might be… and there it is. You do not need to be a powerful man. You do not need to be a wealthy man, but in life, sometimes shit happens and when it happens, who can you call on, knowing without a doubt, that the one you call on will be there for you. For Dagmar’s father, I am, as many other men scattered around the world ready to offer the man my help in any way shape or form if it is needed with out him having to ask -no questions asked, I am there. The same goes for the other men that helped me… even if all debts of honor have been payed in full.

A man can do anything alone and be answerable to no man, he can build his life without debts to another and be proud of what he has accomplished in the world and the life he built and many have done just that, unfortunately, many of those man only have their financial success and their material wealth by which they define their lives and if they were to lose it all they have nothing in this world – because they did it alone and in their minds they were the penthouse apartment, they were the Bentley, they were the brand tagged on their inside coat pocket. They are nothing without the fame, the prestige and the attention. They are nothing without the hangers on and the ass kissers riding the free-loader express… nothing. But on the other hand – the man with a tribe behind him to help him up when the chips are down who have little concern for your ego but allows you the dignity of face that will offer you a job to help you get back on your feet, a place to rest in exchange for work around the farm, a contact in a foreign city to help get you out of a pickle… that in itself is worth a couple of pounds of gold for certain men of honor.

For the most part – I have done it all alone and I had, at one point, defined my life by material possessions and the digits in my bank account. Fortunately (or unfortunately), life knows when to kick a man in the dick, and I know what it is to be out on the street and I know what it is to not have a penny in your pocket and what it is like to go without warmth and food and the kind word of a friend and out of pride (and stupidity) I would not even call my family for help. But I rose up – it took a long time and it was a struggle and I did find help along the way, but I can now honestly say that at forty seven I am basically the same kid I was when I was seventeen… a bit more quiet, dark sense of humor, loner, still suspicious and paranoid and trust very few people, I have a tendency to slip into self destructive periods of not giving a fuck about anything and anyone and I am still looking for Jesus everywhere I go and a little bit of beauty in the world to sooth the demon in me that wants to burn it all to the ground… and if I lost it all and had to start over again I would be the same man I am in the dark shadow as I am in the bright light. I am the same man I am with a fashion model as I am with a waitress, the same man I am with my gang as I am with my family… if I had no money I would be the same man, the only difference between the character of the boy I was when I was seventeen and the man I am today is that today I know how to make money and if I lost it all again I would just pick myself up, dust myself off and get to work getting it back – you see, once you have learned how, you can’t unlearn it, but as far as the consistency of my character… it wont change any more – this is who I am and this is what you get – also (name) this is import, and it’s a truth that will help you very much in the long run with women and their shit tests – they want to see that consistency of your character – if the first impression of you is a strong willed bad boy… that is what they want you to be for ever, they want you to do what you say you will do, say what you mean and mean what you say, do not bend or break for them or anyone else – that is the point of the shit test – can I break this man… will he change for me… is the will of his character strong enough… does he define his life by what he has or is it something deeper within that can not be taken away and will not be surrendered – it is why women have no respect for weak men that kiss their ass and why they do not appreciate anything you do for them or give them just because they asked for it… a man with a strong will of character is the kind of man that others want to be lead by – a man who can make a hard decision with out hesitation and answer for his mistakes later but with out regrets… this I have learned in my life. The other difference in my life from the boy to the man is the tribe I have built and the men I have gathered around me that I might never find myself without someone to rely on at three in the morning with no questions asked to help my out of a pickle – no matter what that might be.

This past year I have been corresponding with many new friends online giving advice and trying to solve problems and coming up with solutions to remedy the madness of the world… I hope I am proving valuable answers. When I was young there was no ‘Return of Kings’ there was no ‘Roosh V Forum’ there was no Victor Pride and all of these other countless resources for young men to go to to find help and advice from men that have been there and men that are doing it – from getting women to making money. Since others started to e-mail me with enquiries and asking for advice I have tried to help them all. I have not refused but one request for advice – I feel bad about that one but I felt I was not ready to give advice but it turns out that I am – but that final judgement is yours, if there is something I do not have the answer to we will try to find it together or find another in the network that can… that is what I am trying to build – aside from the tribe, a network… as my teachers had built. I can only hope that I can do as good of a job as they did and that before I slam the door on a young man, I will at least have a helpful word of advice for him before I do so.
 art by
Pam Powell

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Well, being the daughter of a divorced woman ...... no man was ever good enough for my mother. She picked the worst pieces of shit to date. There was one man who I hated the most. One day he comes to my house all dressed up for a date with my mamma. He recently had said some unkind words to her which had hurt her feelings but he still had the nerve to show up anyway. There he is knocking on the door. I'm 9 yrs old and I'm pissed!!! I go get a big bucket and fill it up with water. Then, I go to the door and I throw it on him!!! There he is all dressed up and dripping wet. He didn't say anything to me. I dared him to say anything to me!!!!! He left. My mother didn't punish me for it either. She understood. He eventually became history.