(84^+) Success! And Downright Failure.

From:
Near the Kalamazoo River

(After post note: Wow. It’s amazing how much more you feel like talking when you feel “observed.” Maybe I could manufacture this “observed” feeling even when no one’s watching. It makes it a whole lot easier to do certain things like writing.)

Well damn. I woke up this morning (afternoon… it was 1:30 PM) in a frenzy, because I was supposed to me my assistants-to-be at a coffee shop in downtown Kalamazoo. Frantically throwing clothes in the air to select the perfect outfit to where, I strike gold. And by gold, I mean a heavily wrinkled, white shirt with varying greens plaiding it.

It might be weird that I love ironing, but I really enjoy the contrast of how ugly the shirt was before ironing with the how beautifully sheen the dress shirt looks when complete cleaned. It’s not painful to do, like when I first started, so I’m proud of how well (and how quickly) I can do it. Needless to say, this was a highlight of my day. Which is pretty depressing.

Anyway, I wrap the shirt around me to then realize i’m not wearing pants. I would probably need to keep the iron on. (Yessss.) After I press my designer pants, I’m ready for the day!

Fast forward eight hours and I’m zoning out at my wall. “I need to run so baaad!” As a result of oversleeping from yesterday’s goal-writing session, I didn’t run my Hour of Power. My day was filled with super jitters, and I can’t keep my mind focused on anything important for more than 2 minutes–which is waaay out of the norm from usual 2.5 minutes. All the positive self talk (hypnosis) and deep breathing patterns in the world got nothin’ on exercise!

Ugh, I had so much debate in my mind on whether to bold and underline that, or to just leave it bold. Oh well. We’ll just have to hope that it sounds like the twelve-year-old gamer inside of me who acts like he’s tough shit when pwns you at Halo 1.

Less importantly than talking about word emphasis on words about activities that compete with exercise, we have a task to launch. Here it goes:

I commit to doing the Hour of Power within 30 minutes of publishing this post (which means when I’ve published it to both WordPress AND pick-up-artist-forum.com) followed by two 60-60-30 sessions of copywriting training. The copywriting training entails ALS-ing Victor Schwab’s book How To Write A Good Advertisement which is an AWESOME book that everyone needs to read. Furthermore, this ALS session involves copying headlines I find onto a Quizlet file to peruse on occasion (daily, I hope!). Then, time-permitting, I actually work on my first advertisement in the fashion that Gary proposes in his article called “Hands-On Experience” (a.k.a. “How To Become A Copywriter In Just 30 Days). When the time comes to work on that ad, it shall be glorious!

Before I go, I heard a metaphor the other day about women. Specifically, I had heard it from Eric’s Master Series in a Hypnotalk (hypnosis session). He said how there were volumes and volumes of interesting details with women to read. This is really interesting to me, because now that I’m aware of it, I hear fascinating stories all the time:

  • My brother was mugged on a pizza delivery; he also served in the Navy at Dubai(!)–where people ski indoors and pay people gold to lose weight.
  • One girl I know’s a bastard child who does whatever it takes to get out of her mother’s house; she wants to be an exotic vet.
  • Gary Halbert, one of my heroes at this point, flaunted his great wealth and got robbed at gunpoint as a result. Afterward, when he showed certain g-men (specifically… I don’t remember who) his home, they saw the sun reflect off his pool… and chose to use that as evidence to convict him to federal prison. Fuck his life, right?
  • My mother rose to relative riches from the life of a trailer park girl via the support of my father, who relentlessly persuaded my mother to stick it through college–getting her degree in nursing that she still uses to this day. Now that I think of this history, it’s easy to see why she always yells at us… like trailer park hicks do. That’s where she came from. It’s almost like a female version of Great Expectations, now that I think about it.
    ___She also had two husbands before my father, both divorced; she had four(!) miscarriages before she had me (I had a 10% chance of living); she smoked while I still inside of her; she’s STOPPED smoking. Which, holy shit! I’ve just now realized the sheer transformation of her not doing that. She’s smoked my whole damn life, and now poof. Or rather un-poof, because it’s so powerful for me to contrast that with the image of her rolling down the window in freezing weather on our first trip from North Carolina to my grandparents up here in Michigan. It was so coldThe damn heaters were cranked up full blast and it did nothing.
    ___Unfortunately, she didn’t do it before my brother started smoking. People RARELY smoke after the age of eighteen if they’ve never done it before, so I’m absolutely certain he started doing so to “feel connected to mommy.” As degrading as that may sound, it’s powerful how much people crave mother’s love. (I can imagine him reading this now, saying, “I did not do it to ‘feel connected to mommy,’ you little shit!” Hahahaha I laugh at this because you, Jordan, did make such a sorry, stupid decision for that exact reason!! Admit it! You’re logical as fuck and you did the most illogical thing you can ever do! Except maybe for chopping off your testicals, (or worse, your penis), you wanted to be like mother, if only because you felt she didn’t like you enough for getting discharged from the Navy)

I digress. The point of that last part is to illustrate the power of know the deeper details and stories of the people we see every day. If a person arouses utter mind-numbing, face melting, tear-jerking boredom, then that only means we haven’t experienced the pain that came just before when he became boring in the first place! That person you hate being around is a walking clock that circulates the same boring routines because of a very specific event that happened in his past that caused him a lot of pain.

Think about that. It’s got to be something, I bet, that would sell a million novel without a single drop of sweat required. I’m willing to bet my laptop on that even.

Now I’m curious what your story is haha. I’ve already seen some of the people on this blog today who’ve shared some really powerful wisdom–but I’ve never uncovered more than that they’re a sheriff, a prosthetic artist, an accountant, whatever. Jesus, I’ve been missing out on a lot. I really want to know more about you. It’s so freaking interesting once I learn the specifics!

Really, once I boil everything down to the specifics that I want, it really attracts me to doing exactly what I need to do to make life work. Ever since I’ve focused on the specifics involved with a video, I’ve literally improved the quality of my Marketing Video on A/B testing 500%. When I wrote those specific details about my brother, my mom, my father, that at least multiplied the quality of this post by a factor of five from what it would have been otherwise. It’s beautiful!

So, if you haven’t made your goals specific as fuck, then I highly recommend it. You’ll feel afraid of a being wrong at first (because you don’t want to be able to admit so factually that you fucked up and didn’t get the goal), but once you toughen up and say “Yes! This is how I declare it!” You’ll be five thousand percent better off, because you can see everything that you need to do. You can hear the conversations you’ll have and feel that delicous 1852 PInot Grigio slide down through down your calloused throat past the larynx that just vibrated sound frequencies that equal 25,000 words at a 10 hour seminar that you personally gave with Sir Richard Branson at Necker Island on healing your hemorrhoids with power by thinking visually about your ex-cat Fluffy coming back from the dead as a ghost, apparation,  in the form of roadkill who summons magical neon green “spirit fish” to swim through the ether past the shingles of your house into your attic down through your ceiling and into your bed under the sheets and into your chocolate starfish as you sleep.

Make that goal now, and you’ll be surprised at how hilariously fast you make twenty times more progress (measurably) to your specific vision. This guaranteed progress, by the way, is exactly why you want to make them big.

That’s all for now, amigo who is interested in gaining social validation from women by learning special tactics and theory from The Game to then show off the women he mates with to all his peers, which will then make him cooler in the eyes of his peers 🙂

HAHA just kidding!

Sincerely,
97
Aaron D. Bell

Pretend to be an expert.

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