A Familiarity of Sorts

It is difficult to reconcile the man who writes such libertine essays on masculinity, with the everyday man; understand one thing: I do not condone abuse in any shape or form. That said, when it comes to abuse it usually refers to mean men, who take pleasure in diminishing their women. That is not something a man would do. There are other means of survival other than slaving people; domestic violence is rape and oppression in a domestic scale; you cannot subjugate a tribe, therefore you turn to your most vulnerable and debase them. That has little to do with supremacy and a lot to do with bigotry. They intimidate, threaten, degrade their loved ones, submitting them to their will. Women suffer these types of abuse because they often have kids or feel powerless. Some may even like it and go without uttering a word to anyone outside the vicious cycle of ignored humiliations, playing down offenses as a coping mechanism to truly hide the degree of torment that they find themselves wallowed in, as these willing victims submit themselves more and more, living out a past of drama to which they've grown irreversibly addicted to. 

In a small dose, the less concerned you are with your woman´s dilemmas, the most she´ll come to quietly admire you though she may say otherwise. Women want to see if you tremble at their requests. They do not want you to go and actually give in. In many ways, you will gradually give more and more if you want her to stick around, and she will surrender everything to you. That´s the only way to go about. She´s your property, why else did she let you in? She could´ve chosen any other and his rule might have been a lot worse, but most likely not. I like my woman to be under my rule and I think that there are a lot of women out there who love a man who is in control and takes charge, not that I have anything against women who find this an abominable thing to say. If you want people to see things your way, first take out their eyes and then fill the void with more unanswered questions.  

How do you differentiate one from the other? Between the good and the bad kinds of bad. One is sexy, and it is a role we assume willingly; the girl knows that she is to be girly and the boy plays the bad guy. These are not just stereotypes, some people, not all, prefer things this way. How, then, do we say the one is different than the other? How is a guy who abuses women is different from a guy who plays them? Well, for one, there is obviously one that seems to be the lesser evil. But, again, how to know one from the other?
After all, men who are sure of themselves often disregard the way others may feel about them, and it does make for a little bit of anarchy, that aloof character is somewhat less caring. Of course, we still are men and I don´t know that we have to be all cozy and next what, talk about our feelings? No, supremacy takes care of business; you can only be the man if you take up the actions that make such title worthy of you (yeah, I´m into that whole unfathomable honor code, it´s a guy thing), and whereas the bigot aims at imposing his unquestioned rule, the Supreme Being understands and acknowledges the concerns of his subject, but doesn´t take it out of the bedroom. In other words, we rule our women like good old-fashioned rulers, in the end, we are just as many adventurers and despots as any, and our woman loves us for it. But she isn´t forced to be here, she isn´t threatened to stay. She doesn´t belong to me but still, I tend to objectify her. Not other women, just mine. 

I rule over her. The woman in my life will never stop doing what all the other women in the world do: try and try to get the control from underneath your nose. You can only slap their hands in the attempt, figuratively speaking, or you could spank her. A good slap in the ass, a little groping goes a long way, but of course, that's between lovers. We come to the lands of our lover as conquerors, not as peace/truce dealers, and we will ravish this domain and reap the treasures it hides, and such endeavor demands integrity and strength, not reconciliatory oratory, we came here to blow your mind, not your candle. 

Tell her what to do. I am not always a good boss, no boss is. Am I cruel? Not usually but I could be, often without naughtiness thrown in the mix. I could feel the sting of jealousy but religions away from showing it. I am hot, aiming for cool, but in the surface, dead-cold stone. Your woman doesn´t want a kid. She wants the warrior that ravished lands, the usurper of the throne who poisons everyone in the room just to have his way with the queen. Is he now going to be polite when it comes to making love to the queen? If you are to subdue another land, how will you go about it?
Does it make sense to signal as to when your attack will take place? No, you only take over her, don´t give her much space to maneuver, taunt, spite her feelings, girls flip over nothing, it´s easy to engage their emotions, and they love it when a man calls her on her b.s. Do it often and never apologize for it; deliver it with impeccable humor, undertone of course; and always your cold as stone face with a sudden openness in smile and body language. Let others know that you value your time by valuing theirs, and move on without much hesitation. It looks harder than it is. It´s called flow, and it requires fluid mobility and absence of thought. Thought can be put aside way of taking on actions that will either add bulk to your frame, as in weight-lifting, or bringing about a sense of pride, emotional and financial well-being by being frugal and prudently generous. Be a provider. Never get back home empty-handed. Downplay slights. Most of us, out of these anxious times and days, come out swinging, counter-punching culture we live in. We demand reparations to harms committed toward us. We demand loyalty. Everything is ego this, ego that. Best is to overlook things; act, not react. 

It is something that the meditated mind can achieve effortlessly. To be able to see yourself in the moment and restrain your initial response, calibrate your impulse, it usually takes a breath or two. When you take your time, it makes others take theirs; you bring this energy into the exchange and thereof impact the outcome. The energy with which we confront others, solve dilemmas, implement visions will ultimately dictate the likelihood of success. And it´s not about best intentions, no. It has nothing to do with good and evil. It is whether you feel truly, utterly good about the course of action undertaken, sort of what you would consider a gut-reaction, a visceral feeling. 

Thereby, we want to be polite and cordial in civil dealings, it makes perfect sense; especially if the person at the other end is a cute waitress, or the girl sitting across from you in the train... here, too, discretion plays a bigger man role. She´s never going to be swayed by the attention received; she´s only going to direct her intention unto the attention she hasn´t won yet. In other words, your best chance is to ignore her, but better yet if in time you master things to a realm of indifference. It seems as if these were one and the same a thing, but no: indifference doesn´t require as much effort as ignoring someone which, in and of its ow, it shows a degree of involvement. Indifference is the end-game in the initial phase, to truly detach yourself from the situation and see all entities as one in essence, regardless of thought input, when we are devoid of those ligaments of emotions, shreds of feelings that cover our nakedness of spirit; hereon, we show a face that has no ulterior motive, a faceless mask that we can put on ourselves. Ironically, we find familiarity in strangers who remind us of who we are, and in doing so, we feel as if they were not really much more different than us, a familiarity of sorts. 

Usually, the trick is a spell that combines patience, kindness, curiosity, and a willingness to break through other people´s ostrich-bent ways: one party has to be able to overcome the ambiguity and ambivalence of the other, and that task is usually reserved for the male, or the most dominant of the two. Look at a girl´s constitution, for Christ´s sake. If there were a zombie invasion, will you feel sure if your girl were the one who took it upon herself to go out there and kill the flesh-eating vermin, or will you rather she were the one who intervened in a critical moment, saving your life from the predatory undead sneaking up behind you, so that you could continue killing zombies for her? That role girls play nobly, easing guys´ flimsy path forward overcoming shyness, awkwardness, rejection, heartache, mind-games, cock-teasing, and all the nasty little surprises girls have in store for men. It was never a fair fight: look at her, again. If it were up for them to compete fairly, they would never thrive. After all, they´re dealing with a baser, far more elemental creature who only seeks to satiate its most deprived instincts, of which she is on the higher-end of the hierarchy. Awkward, yes. Women can be mysterious, but that they are so on purpose and without the slightest intention to ever admitting it, is what we men find perplexing. It is not like they´re even aware of it. It´s like muscle memory, you either fight or flight. 

And flight, sometimes, seems like the best course of action.

But fighters know: the fight will give you the best option, if your cause is worth of merit and you carry out your assault with might and perseverance, all things will be granted to you in time.