The Autobiography of a Modern Male
By TGR White
I slumped back in my computer chair, dick in my hand as the legacy of another night of porn dripped down my bare leg. The blessedness of orgasm passes away and all that remains is the hollowness within my chest. A longing for human contact…wanting to curl up next to a woman, to hold her in my arms.
Through the thin wall I could hear the ecstatic moans as the girl of my dreams is fucked by another man. His grunts mingled with her heated cries of passion.
I was 21 and I had never had sex, never kissed a girl, never so much as held hands. In the animal kingdom I was the loser of the pack; the outcast; doomed to die alone.
I cleaned myself up; a nightly ritual. Shame and disgust shoved away the emptiness in my chest as I looked at the last movie clip still playing on my screen, searing its way into my subconscious. A middle aged woman, comely but not attractive, her face twisted in agony as her ass was mercilessly flogged by a fat dominatrix.
Next door my love screamed in orgasm as her latest bad boy pounded away. It should have been me in there. How did it come to this?
My obsession, nay addiction, with porn began in high school. When I was fourteen my parents bought our family’s first computer. My parents were not very computer literate and I had no trouble getting around their net filter. It began with photos of hot, naked women back when kilobytes were a big deal. By the time I was sixteen I had stumbled onto bondage photos. It was edgier, novel, degrading; alluring.
Every spare moment I had without anyone else in the house I would be on the computer, dick in hand, straining for sounds of a vehicle coming up the drive. My grades did not suffer but my social life did. I did not bother trying to chase girls with the zeal of my classmates. While other guys were losing their virginity I was beating off the kinky and the twisted. While others thought about prom I thought about tit torture. I had never been a social person and I became a complete loner and loser.
In college I rented the room of a house and spent my time alone, jerking it to porn. By now I was onto movies.
The worst of it was that I thought this made me part of the bondage community. I thought I knew the bondage models; thought that I belonged. I was not some vanilla; I was part of the scene. I was hardcore.
Porn does not kiss you, cuddle you or whisper secrets in your ear; porn doesn’t make you feel human; not yet anyway…
That is how, at the age of nineteen, I found myself a porn addicted anti social asexual loser. As far as life went, I sucked at it.
At the time I thought I loved her. In truth it was a childish infatuation. Her name was Sophie. She was nothing but the woman whom I elevated to the place of goddess and upon whom I placed all my desires, insecurities and neurotic hang ups. I believed that through her I could find Salvation; escape myself. How typical is that of the modern male? So uneasy within himself that he desires to lose himself in a woman? The first time I saw her I thought she was beautiful because she looked so sad, so broken, so in need of saving.
Sophie came into my life just when the agony of porn induced loneliness was making me think of changing my life. She was naturally vibrant and gregarious; as stark contrast to me. I decided she was the One. The special girl I would lose my virginity. I had no idea how to approach a girl, how to ask her out. A million ridiculous, pathetic and absolutely cringe-worthy ideas ran through my head. I still believed that magic just spontaneously happens, that somehow our first kiss would be accompanied by fireworks to a background Disney track.
I was a twenty year old guy and I still believed in fairytales.
Instead of making a move I hesitated. If I ever had any chance I wasted it away due to my fear. Fear of being rejected, of being laughed at. If I was not already there I crashed head first into the friend zone. She needed a new housemate and I jumped at the idea. I imagined domestic bliss and sex.
There was not domestic bliss. There was sex. The first weekend after I moved in she bought some big guy back from the club. He could probably not spell his own name. It didn’t matter. He got to fuck her, to taste the sweat on her breast, to stare into her eyes at the moment of climax; I jacked off in my room. I was nearly twenty one.
There was no great moment of inspiration, no heart warming music, no great speeches or defining event; this is real life and life changing moments are seldom recognized at the time. Often they are only recognizable so far in the future that when you look back your memory is clouded. It was one too many nights of loneliness. Maybe my loneliness finally outweighed my fears. Maybe I was sick of hearing some other guy fucking the woman who should have been mine.
All I can remember is that my life changed the night I found the pick up forum. Losers like me who discussed the best ways to get laid; who practised and practised until they found themselves swimming in a sea of pussy.
It hurt. For the first time I had to look at myself honestly and it hurt. I did not realize what a loser I was. I honestly don’t remember how I found the forum; all I know is that once I found it I couldn’t stop reading. The same stories over and over again from the same sort of guys. My story over and over again.
I was a loser in high school…I’ve never had sex…never had girlfriend….how do I get her to fall in love with me…want sex…want a girlfriend…scared to talk to girls…
And the advice came. I saved pages of tales, tips and tricks from aspiring and novice pick up artists. Make eye contact. Be cocky and funny. Neg to lower her Bitch Shield. Don’t be like every other Average Frustrated Chump. Use a canned opener to begin with. If you can, use a situational opener. Comment on something about her. Agree and Amplify. Get her in a sexual state. Mirror Her Body Language. Improve yourself. Workout. Dress Better. Get a Haircut. Walk like you have a pair.
The sun was rising when I finally stopped reading. I didn’t want to change who I was. I liked who I was. The hollow feeling in my chest said otherwise. Tomorrow I would begin. Tomorrow I begin my journey to becoming an alpha male pick up artist.
Reflections of the Age 
Awesome read, thanks for sharing. Goes to prove yet again how debilitating and destructive porn is.
Pingback: Awesome Manosphere Reading | 3rd Millenium Men
Hm, it’s like I’m reading a chapter of my own life. I didn’t watch that much porn though, but all the other stuff is spot on, and there are many guys out there who can relate, I’m sure.
So this is the prologue of an upcoming novel? I’m really curious on how it will turn out.
Thanks for the feedback.
It is the prologue of an upcoming novel I am slowly putting up online. Chapter 1 should be up in a few days. The novel is partially my autobiography and yet it is the story of so many other modern males.
My laptop was stolen a few weeks ago and the entire second draft was lost. All I have a is a printed copy of the first draft (and I am missing a few pages of it). I have other projects I want to work now on but after going to the effort of writing a novel I am loathe to see my work go to waste so I am putting the entire thing up here as I retype it. When I finish this I may leave it up here and put it up on Amazon as an entire ebook anyway.
The start of this novel was the hardest and is the weakest section. Looking back at who I was and putting that into words is not easy since I have changed so much I can’t really identify with who I was.
I’ll definitely buy the novel once it’s out.
Yeah, writing from experience can be hard, but actually in every story there’s a piece of the author woven in either way. I remember one of my first short stories that I’ve written about a guy who catches his girlfriend cheating on him with some douchebag, they get into a fight, the hero gets knocked on the head and wakes up a thousand years in the past as a Viking reaver (he was actually reliving one of his past lives). Eventually he regains consciousness in the real world and has an epiphany about what a spineless idiot he was.
I wrote that stuff completely out of the blue and it turned out to be my near future in real life when I discovered the manosphere, game, red pill etc. a year later(of course, the cheesy Viking stuff never actually happened to me in real life lol). My point is (if there’s any coherent one), that art comes from subconsciousness and can sometimes surprise the artist so even if the writing gets hard sometimes keep at it. I cringe at some of my early stories in terms of writing skill and plotlines, but they still carry a piece of me in them.
Btw, if you’re looking for something to read with a similar feel to the upcoming novel I recommend “The Second Kind of Loneliness” by George RR Martin. It’s a yarn written by a lonely loser and it takes a lonely loser (or ex-loser) to truly understand it. Martin does a wonderful job of capturing the essence and the thought pattern of what the manosphere classifies as beta male(chode, afc, whatever you call it). It was like reading a spreadsheet of my thought patterns before the red pill knowledge. It’s too bad most of the manosphere authors don’t read that much so they think that concepts such as alpha/beta male are something new.
“I’ll definitely buy the novel once it’s out.”
Thanks. I’m glad you like it and I’m glad its so popular. I was planning on putting the entire novel up here and just accepting donations. After that I was thinking of putting it all Amazon.
I had a second draft done but I hadn’t backed it up and all that remained was the print out of the first draft (covered in edits). Losing all that work was a blow and I didn’t relish the thought of retyping an entire novel in one go. I also wanted to move onto other projects.
However, if I keep getting the interest I am I will spend a few weeks retyping it all up and then go about publishing it (instead of putting it up here bit by bit) I was almost at the publishing stage when my laptop was stolen so losing the entire second draft was a major blow.
“has an epiphany about what a spineless idiot he was.”
I wish it was so easy in real life. Mostly it takes time and loneliness and desperation to make a man wake up. Many never wake up and instead double down and dig themselves deeper.
What ever happened to your short story?
” It’s a yarn written by a lonely loser and it takes a lonely loser (or ex-loser) to truly understand it.”
I have changed so much that writing the start was the hardest part. Thinking back to the person I was and the way I looked at the world is hard for two reasons. The first is shame and disgust and who you were. Secondly, if you have changed enough than you can no longer identify with the person you were.
Fuck man, you were exposed to the girl you loved getting banged by someone else, and you heard her enjoying it? that’s heavy. How did that end, did she pick up on your feelings? sorry if you’ve already have a post about that.
Thanks for the feedback. I talk about how I got over her (or tried to) in Chapter 1 which I hope to have up by Thursday or Friday.
I mentioned her in this post https://tgrwhite8974.wordpress.com/2012/11/12/everything-has-its-season/ which was popular.
I don’t know whether she knew my feelings before we moved in together as housemates but I’ve often suspected she did.
The last tme I saw her things were definitely different but by then I had changed. I will get to that part of the novel in a few weeks.
(the reply button is not working for me properly so I’ll leave new comment here)
about the novel -that’s why you should always have several copies stored elsewhere. If one gets destroyed or stolen there’s always a backup. I always do at least 3 backups of my manuscripts because similar stuff happened to me when I had PC problems.
“I wish it was so easy in real life. Mostly it takes time and loneliness and desperation to make a man wake up. Many never wake up and instead double down and dig themselves deeper.”
I guess I was writing from my own experience here since my red pill epiphany came to me one day in a form of surge of thoughts and emotions from the subconscious mind. It was like a Zen master appeared form somewhere, hit me with a stick and said:”man, you’ve been doing that same shit(beta behavior) all these years with no success. Have you ever tried to change something?” And so it began.
I agree that many people never wake up even when exposed to the “truth”. I’ve lost a friend this way, when I tried to show him that he doesn’t have to spend his days and night jerking off to porn and playing WoW, that he change and be happier if he out in the effort. Well, that didn’t go so well; he decided to stay in his bubble and ridiculed me.
” I have changed so much that writing the start was the hardest part”
I see where you’re coming from. I’ll just say that writing requires several skills and chief among them is the ability to put yourself in somebody else’s shoes. I’ve never been a Norse reaver, a grizzled war veteran or a whore fighting her way up the social ladder but I’ve written stories about these characters nevertheless. I’m no authority on writing and I’m actually not that successful writer yet, but this I know. So however hard it may be you’ll have to do it if you want to write something good (and look at it this way – you already have experience being a lonely loser years ago – so when you write a character you already have some reference points).
About shame and disgust -I know how you feel but you should try to put it behind you; there’s no use in harboring these emotions. I haven’t done with them completely in these past 3 years myself, but now when I look at my old self I actually laugh. Why shouldn’t I? Yes, I failed miserably, never get laid, embarrassed myself in countless occasions, and missed a lot of what life has to offer but I can’t change what was. I’m still struggling with a lot of stuff and as I see it, there’s no use in worrying about the past. At least I finally realized a lot of things and changed for the better. If you hadn’t hit the rock bottom, maybe you wouldn’t have changed and would remain a sad, lonely loser; this way you have changed. Everything happens for a reason.
Btw, about my story: it was rejected by a lot publishers (naturally) and I’ve been meaning to rewrite it for a year now but I have so many projects that I work on so I keep forgetting. if you want I can mail it to you if you want to check it out. It’s a weird story so I don’t think a lot of people will like it even after the revision, but in essence it’s about taking the red pill(as I said, I wrote it before I discovered the manosphere).
Pingback: Lightning Round – 2013/05/22 | Free Northerner
Pingback: The Beginnings of Quitting Porn « Ruxman
Pingback: Who are you, really? | Reflections of the Age
Pingback: Time Flies | Reflections of the Age