That’s all folks.

I remember one of my friends told me once to never date a filipina. While on my quest to make sense of what happened, I met many filipinas online though Facebook. What surprised me was that all of them were hard catholics, but at the same time, their profiles consisted of something like a picture of them posing sexy in revealing clothes with caps like “God’s master piece”, or “”God’s princess” or “God loves her the most”. Seemed to me like they all had this diva complex. I don’t know, go see four yourself I guess.

So yeah man, old fashioned, shy, conservative wife material that would never do anyone any harm. Get your own conclusions.

For me, this was the experience that finally blackpilled me in the flesh. Call me a pussy idc, I’m scarred for life and I know that no matter who I may now, just like I predicted, I’ll get dumped for better.

One of the biggest morals of the story is that no matter how old fashioned a woman is, if the guy is cute enough, they go full moist.

I still sit here and think it only took that guy one day to do more with her than what I would’ve done in years. All that time out the window, for some week of sex with a cute dude. Letting that sink in.

And for women reading this, the problem isn’t that se was a closet hoe, the problem is that she lied about it. If she had come clean about it from the start, I wouldn’t have dated her at all.

Looking back to that fight over playing with my friend, I used to sometimes ask to myself “What if that day, that fight hadn’t happened?”, “What if we could’ve solved it right there? Where would we be right now?” Where would I go to if I could turn back time? Would I go to that day and handle things better?

But that question doesn’t make any sense. Not because it’s done, but because if it hadn’t been that fight, it would’ve been a different one. It was going to happen no matter what, because all along she was faking being someone she wasn’t, and that had to explode some day.

I found out that what hurt me wasn’t that the guy “had” her like I said earlier. What hurt me is that I never did. I never knew who she was. It was all an illusion. I didn’t fall in love with that woman. I never loved her. I loved who she told me she was. I loved the lie. We were nothing but perfect strangers.

That woman fucking that dude, was the real woman. For all I care, maybe that’s the only things that was real, and I was just daydreaming all along. A lucid dream.

In the end, what hurt was admitting that the dream was over and having to slap myself awake from it. It was the realization that none of that ever happened.

So to answer my own question. If I could turn back time, I would go back to that moment I decided to do that experiment with my friend, and not do it at all.

Curious fact is, my standard of beauty has now changed. Now my perfect body shape is brown skin, flat chest, flat ass. It’s a woman that looks exactly than the one from my dreams, but real. It’s like I’m waiting for that dream to be true I guess. If that ever happens, great. If doesn't, just doesn't.

Well my life changed for the better now, Everything worked out just fine and my band is about to release a demo now. Also because I play the guitar, I get the fun I want after each gig so I can’t complain about lack of sex.

Eat your veggies.

Tip SomeBlackpilledDudeY for their post.