I'm continuing to explore new depths of solace within, and realizing how much time I've wasted on porn in the past. It's not even worth a glance, I realize, in retrospect. Moods are leveling out more than I had ever thought possible, as if I can control the passing of each grain of sand in the hourglass. I'm now absolutely convinced that constant orgasms really do a number on the brain. At this stage of my reboot, I'm definitely past any type of flat-line; I'm incredibly excitable, but no more knee-jerk grimaces when I see hot girls or happy couples.
No more tear-fighting, no more turning the other cheek, no more hiding. I still must, however, learn to accept that I will get rejected (maybe more than) a few times before I meet my next shortie. I seem to have gotten the "talk to five new women everyday" thing down to where it's natural now, but the women I'm talking to could all be my grandmother. I really hate the thought of passing up great women just because they are seemingly less than ideal, or above my "league". So I just must lose my apprehension and start making my romantic intentions clear to those I'm intrigued by. Fuck.