This post came up in my Insta feed a couple of weeks ago from James Clark aka @jamesisntverynice… and I fucking LOVE it.
I love this because, you know, I AM a chalant motherfucker.
I chalant the fuck up.
As should you.
As should everyone.
In the episode “Fuck Yes, or Fuck Off!” From the podcast a few weeks ago, I spoke about something similar:
You’re all in, or you’re out.
You step up and full send—or fuck off.
This mentality applies to dating/early stages in getting to know someone, and to long-term relationships.
And everything in your life.
If you’re going to do something, dive in.
If you’re going to do people…. DIVE IN.
From what I’ve seen in the dating world, there’s been so many iterations of “treat women like shit in order for them to like you”.
From the OG “gamer” Neil “I masturbated to so much porn and had so much meaningless casual sex I’m now bald” Strauss, to the “Incel” we no need no women” movement, to the Dan Bilzerain school of how to date strippers and Hooters waitresses—everyone’s lifelong goal, and now, apparently, there’s a new term for “not giving a shit” as a seduction strategy:
Being “nonchalant”
“I don’t care if you like me.
I don’t care if you don’t know whether I like you.
I’m here. Sorta.
But…I could be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing anything else.
Years ago I was with a gorgeous poet musician of a man.
He’d be telling me all the time how wonderful I was.
Voicing the things he observed in me.
I asked him how it was that he functioned like that. Why did he… do that? Didn’t it leave him feeling TOO exposed?
He said:
“It’s the only defense I have.”
Think about that.
In his mind, in his heart, the only option was to keep the flow going.
To keep voicing and expressing.
It was profuse. Surrounding me all the time like a giant love cocoon.
He’d figured out that being honest, being true, was actually a greater DEFENSE than pretending he liked me less.
That somehow, in being loyal to that truth, it imbued him—and his heart—with a kind of strength.
The universe rewards courage.
**
THIS is what we do for each other.
We CHALANT the fuck up.
Being INTO someone is cool.
It’s life-changing.
This era of “I don’t give a shit” and “situationships” as a THING, tells you how far we’ve degenerated in the pursuit and experience of deep, soul-searing, life-changing love and sex.
It’s truly bizarre as fuck.
But.
Luckily, we still have Anami Land.
We’ll always have Anami Land.
Where passion, poetry and the profound will always exist.
If you are new or completely oblivious to the world of online/modern love and dating—I’ve been educating myself on some of what’s going on.
I say “some of” because it’s so fucking unbearable and even unbelievable that I truly don’t want to spend that much time on it.
Nor should anyone.
So in this ear—and what this guy is referring to in his video—is using “disinterest” and “not really giving a shit” as supposed dating strategies.
I guess it’s kind of like playing with a cat.
Dangling a treat in front of it and then throwing it around and making the cat chase it.
For fun. Entertainment. A sense of control. Boredom even.
Nah.
This is dating for retards and cowards.
And not just dating in new stages of relationships.
Grand gestures, profound expressions of love ought to be the mainstay of your relationship, decades in.
Truly.
Anami is a Sanskrit word which means “there’s always another level to go”.
So if you are in an Anami-style relationship, you are constantly growing and evolving into new and better versions of yourselves.
You AREN’T the same people you were five years ago or five months ago or even five hours ago IF you are rebirthing yourselves through deep, cataclysmic love and sex.
THAT’S what your relationship is MEANT to be doing for you.
Anything other than that, and you are doing it wrong.
So yeah.Normalize “love bombing”
There’s a phrase out there that people seem to use in connection with “narcissists”:
“Love bombing.”
This is the idea that in the early stages of a relationship, someone is extra nice to you and says all kinds of amazing things to you and makes you feel loved.
Uh huh. Right.
And this is a pathology now?
I know the narcissist blamers and lovers will jump up to say how this is different and manipulative and whatever the fuck.
But really. This is how it ought to be. All the time:
Making each other feel seen and adored and cherished.
You may not tell them you LOVE them right away, but if you do, you do.
You can also communicate it in all kinds of other words.
How the connection feels to you. How you see them. What you love *about* them.
I mean, if you aren’t “LOVE BOMBING” your partner, what the fuck are you even doing?
Because being chintzy with affection and praise is the stuff that all great romances are built on?
No, it’s not.
This is how you kill it.
**
I was asking some people about all this:
Is it possible for someone to give you the “ick” with an overabundance of “LOVE” early on?
Not if it’s the right person.
Not if you actually adore the person too.
Then no amount of love is “too much”.
It’s just right.
Even when it’s bombs and bombs full of it.
Bomb me up.
When you are “dating” someone you don’t really like all that much, they are filler, fluff, someone to kill time with—and they shower you with love, you’ll feel repulsed because they’re essentially calling your bluff.
Don’t bluff date. Or filler date.
Don’t waste your time.
I spoke about this in my “Why I’ve Never Dated” podcast episode.
I’ve never “dated” because I’ve never had to.
I never needed a weeks or months to “figure out” if I liked someone.
I knew.
And you know what? For all the people—especially women people—who say they don’t know and they didn’t see the signs and their childhood fucked them up blah blah, guess what?
YOU KNEW.
Your body knew.
Your cells knew.
ALL of you knew.
It’s just come out recently that eggs choose sperm.
Meaning, at the most primal, biological level, a woman’s egg DECIDES which sperm—out of the millions—is the sperm for her, and she sends biochemical signals out to ensure that particular sperm makes its way into her.
She filters out the MILLIONS of others. And she KNOWS the one that’s right for her.
***
People date and talk to people they don’t really like, thinking: “OH, I’ll date them to see if I like them.’
If you think you don’t know, are you trying to rationalize a relationship where one doesn’t exist—and perhaps shouldn’t exist?
Years ago I worked with a couple who got married AS PLATONIC FRIENDS.
They later had to confront this when they wanted to make a baby and it forced them to examine that they didn’t like having sex with each other.
What. A fucking. Shitshow.
I find that shocking, but in some ways I don’t think it’s all that unusual.
People can have a real attachment to the idea and importance of “getting married”; so much so that they do it for every reason OTHER than deep love and attraction.
Convenience. Ticking off a life achievement / to do list box. Having a buddy to share household chores with.
‘WHATTTT???? FUCK EACH OTHER? You’ve got to be kidding!”
“There’s so many more important things to a relationship!!”
These two got away with it for a while until they realized having a child was going to involve that particular past time.
Fuck. Seriously.
**
So if you’re dating? Bomb it up.
You don’t need ploys and strategies.
Real ones see through this fast anyway.
Speak your truth.
All of it.
Everywhere. All the time.
How you feel about them.
What you see in them that’s beautiful.
Physically and in their personality.
And if you are already paired up, YOU DO THE EXACT SAME THING.
TELL the other person what you love and admire about them.
How they make you feel.
Yes, your relationship ought to be one continuous love bomb and fuckfest.
The loving leads to the fucking which leads to more loving.
THIS is how it’s meant to be.
****
THIS is what I teach as a way of life in Anami Land. In dating, in long-term relationships.
You are meant to be pithy, poetic motherfuckers.
All day, every day.
We’re opening the doors to the Anami Land gated community in the coming weeks.
This is our on-and-offline space where we’ll be gathering and existing in our rarified universe of smart, poetic, outrageous fuckers.
