The only reason you go out,
The only objective in mind,
A glimpse of a familiar pair
Of legs on a busy street or
A squeeze from a female who
You can only call your friend.
A scoreless night fosters hostility
A scoreless weekend breeds animosity
Through red eyes all the world is seen,
Angry at friends and family for no
Reasons that they can perceive.
Only you know why you are so mad.
There is the 'just friends' one who you've
Known for so long, who respects you
So much that you can't do what you want
And she no longer bothers to put on her
False personality and flirt because she thinks
You like her for who she is when what you
Liked about her was her flirtatiousness.
When your own hand becomes your best lover,
When your life-giving fertilizer is wasted
In a Kleenex and flushed down the toilet
You wonder when you are going to stop
Thinking about what could have happened
That night when you almost got somewhere.
There is the coy one who smile
And looks like she wants to meet you,
But you can't work up the nerve to talk
So instead she will become one of your nighttime
Fantasies, where you could have but didn't
Your hand will be substututed for hers.
When you neglect work and meaningful activities
When you neglect the ones who really love you
For a shot at a target that you rarely hit
Does everyone get lucky with women but you
Or do females just not want it as bad as you do?
By Neil Strauss (From the book 'The Game: Undercover the Secret Society of Pickup Artists')
The only objective in mind,
A glimpse of a familiar pair
Of legs on a busy street or
A squeeze from a female who
You can only call your friend.
A scoreless night fosters hostility
A scoreless weekend breeds animosity
Through red eyes all the world is seen,
Angry at friends and family for no
Reasons that they can perceive.
Only you know why you are so mad.
There is the 'just friends' one who you've
Known for so long, who respects you
So much that you can't do what you want
And she no longer bothers to put on her
False personality and flirt because she thinks
You like her for who she is when what you
Liked about her was her flirtatiousness.
When your own hand becomes your best lover,
When your life-giving fertilizer is wasted
In a Kleenex and flushed down the toilet
You wonder when you are going to stop
Thinking about what could have happened
That night when you almost got somewhere.
There is the coy one who smile
And looks like she wants to meet you,
But you can't work up the nerve to talk
So instead she will become one of your nighttime
Fantasies, where you could have but didn't
Your hand will be substututed for hers.
When you neglect work and meaningful activities
When you neglect the ones who really love you
For a shot at a target that you rarely hit
Does everyone get lucky with women but you
Or do females just not want it as bad as you do?
By Neil Strauss (From the book 'The Game: Undercover the Secret Society of Pickup Artists')
Comments (2)
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