Rules

I’ve spent most of my life following rules. Rules led me to a life where I worked in a cubicle all day only to come home to a reformed slut wife who would pawn the kids off on me and run off to the “chiropractor”. 

Fuck the rules. They exist to keep us in line, to make us good sheep. They prey on our most basic needs to belong to a group. 

More recently, rules led me to run a blog that had an email subscribe list, sharing buttons, and blog posts between 800 and 2,000 words. 

I was trying to grow a Twitter following where “they” tell you to tweet more often and get into people’s mentions. 

I was following rules again, just a different set. 

Fuck all of that. I can tweet as much or as little as I’d like. I can post 5,000 word blog posts or 100 word blog posts. I don’t care. 

For most of my life I was led to believe that I had to do things a certain way. That behavior doesn’t die quickly. 

I’ve internalized a lot of redpill wisdom, but the 32 years of conditioning prior to that doesn’t go without a fight. 

I’d be lying if I told you I had it all figured out. Anyone that tells you that is lying. 

What I do know is that correcting course is necessary part of this journey. One minute we are filled with strength, hope, and optimism. The next we as clueless as they day we were born. 

I am still going to follow a set of rules, but I am the one creating them. I have seen what works and what doesn’t. 

I can tell you for certain that living life in someone else’s frame, whether that’s a woman’s, your kids’, or your parents’, is the fastest way to misery. 

But don’t simply replace their frame with that of some red pill blogger or online guru. Make it your own frame. Write down your own commandments if you need to. Tape them to the bathroom mirror. 

Most of all, don’t feel any shame for needing a daily reminder to live life for yourself. I know I sure do. This blog is my reminder. These words are as much for me as they are for you.