I recently went back to work after over two years of leisure. I didn’t need to, I could’ve easily continued my merry wanderings for several more years, but my subconscious was giving me an ever louder signal that I need to put on a suit and submit myself to some internally-directed accomplishment and some externally-provided discipline. Your subconscious will first speak to you in fleeting murmours, then husky growls before eventually building up to a crashing cacophony of deafening proportions. It’s your masculine core and it exists to stop your logical forebrain making a mess of the navigation process delegated to it.

Your ego, logical forebrain and masculine core are all your friend. Yes, even your ego. It requires an occasional sedative but it’s evolved inside you for good reasons. Everything inside you has evolved for the purposes of keeping you alive and getting your seed into some nubile young maidens. It’s not the ego itself to fear, but the various twists and kinks that send it off on fools errands. Slay the demons, sedate (don’t kill) the ego.

So three years ago I’d begun to feel like my career was an unnecessary rat race and my job a chore. Growing up as a smart, well-educated middle class boy the rewards of a higher-beta lifestyle were always going to appeal to me. I expected career success, pots of cash, status increments and all the other accoutrements of mainstream success. Thus I channeled myself down the Attainment Path without ever giving thought to alternatives. For a while my deal with society seemed to work. I got cash, security, gadgets and status while society got a higher-beta workhorse to obey the laws, create wealth, and tax to penury to pay for all the freeloaders. I even got The Girl, for a while (though as I subsequently discovered the Attainment Path was coincidence not a cause of that).

Then when The Girl left I realised that 60-hour workweeks, deadline pressure, 50% taxation and the much higher “cultural enrichment” tax of paying obscene amounts in rent, travel and entertainment to stay safe inside the law-abiding white-man coccoon….. it wasn’t worth it to come back to an empty home, spend a few hours watching TV / playing PS3, then go to bed to respawn next day for another crack at pushing the boulder up the mountainside. It took my subconscious about six months to transition from quiet murmours into deafening roars, and then I quit.

My revulsion for civilisation had peaked. I looked for another way.

For a while I considered Freedom Porn. To cut a long story short it’s bullshit. There is no better or more efficient way of earning cash than learning a trade / expert system and then exchanging your skills for an hourly/daily wage. Freedom pornographers would have you believe the answer is starting an online business, affiliate marketing, coaching or whatever. It’s bullshit. Like the crack-dealer business model, there’s only a few spots at the top of any particular accumulation pyramid. There’s only one Roosh. Only one Richard La Ruina. The pickup pyramid isn’t even a lucrative one. Unless you are able to dislodge one of the top guys then the best money remains in coaching bootcamps, residentials and one-on-ones…. which is exchanging your skill in an expert system for an hourly/daily wage. But I digress.

The office cubicle is a physical and mental prison. Manosphere guys write plenty about the latter, how by suppressing your natural inclinations to fit into corporate culture you are betatising yourself and allowing yourself to be sucked into a hoop-jumping frame of work hard – take orders – get rewarded by status increment. I agree, mostly. It’s also a physical prison because you lock you body into a seated position for hours away from natural sunlight and fossilise. When I woke up that first bright morning after resigning, the office shackles casts off, I immediately set about shaking off the cobwebs and stretching my limbs.

For two years I answered to no-one. My life was an unbroken flow of doing whatever the fuck I wanted whenever the fuck I wanted. It was liberating. I shook off the beta, I shook off the worker-drone frame, and I developed that chill relaxed self-satisfied vibe that attracts women. I recommend it to anyone who has the financial means to do so. But it comes with downsides.

While my vibe and health improved, my subconscious went into a Cthulhu sleep. Enjoy it, it’s what you need, he said and began his centuries slumber. But after a while he began to stir. The problem of foregoing all external discipline is that you must generate it internally. Introverted, motivated, high-self regulators like me can do so for long periods without folding in on themselves. But there are limits. There’s always Dissipation Monkey chattering in your ear… “Ease off, you’ve earned it”… “Might as well drink the whole bottle of whiskey, it’s not like you need to get up for work tomorrow”…. “No need to shower. Skyrim doesn’t care if you smell”… left unchecked the little bastard will dissolve your work ethic and go-getting masculine energy until you become a wop.

I started to feel it. Two years living in a bubble without accountability and I could feel myself wopping out. I’d quit my job to build up the masculine pillars in my life, to gain independence and a good vibe, to get more time to live my life well, but I was neglecting the most important pillar of all – self-sufficiency. Men are the power stations of humanity, self-motivated machines of economic surplus which the herd lives off (i.e. women and children). The male drive is to produce and to stand independent. Lose that and you lose much of your masculine confidence. There’s a reason we all look down on losers.

As I felt my subconscious awaken I knew where it was headed. I’d need to go back to work. The question wasn’t if, it was on what terms. Fortunately together with my buddy Bhodi we’d thrashed out the concept of Expert System Energy Husky. We’d identified this male need to master a system and then produce surplus with it. We’d identified the joy that comes from grappling with an amorphous blob of uncooperative reality until our application of skill and sweat fashioned it into a useful outcome to serve our needs. Your husky needs to go for walkies. You can ask him to lie by the sofa for a while and he’ll obey, but left idle long enough he’ll get agitated. First a whimper and scratching of paws, and eventually yelping and barking at the door to go out. ESEH can be trained. As my revulsion for the corporate world wore off I started to find reasons to like going back to my career.

• It’s mentally challenging.
• I have lots of responsibility.
• I get to wear cool suits.
• I’m surrounded by high-achieving, reliable, competent men.
• I learn new things about new businesses every day.
• My brain gets a workout that will protect it’s higher order functionings as I age.
• I get to deploy technical skills I spent years acquiring.

You can NLP yourself into enjoying your job. Dale Carnegie wrote a book about it. It’s part of a wider process of Reality Weaving (post to come). I very consciously NLP’d myself based on the rewards of mastering an expert system and not on the cash. It’s so wrong to put yourself into the frame of this is an unpleasant imposition I grind though only because it pays the bills. That’s pronouncing a death sentence on your vibe.

Much of this came to me while on mushrooms.