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There comes a time as a man when you start to separate yourself from the rest of the pack. You separate yourself from every other guy out there. EVERY other guy. The guys you work with. The guys you hang out with. The guys you are related to. The guys from college. The guys from the old neighborhood. The guys at the club. The guys at the bar. The guys at the game. The guys on social media. The guys at the gym. The married guys. The single guys. The divorced guys. It was never a competition. They are not your competition. They aren’t in your league anymore. You’re not better than them. But you are separating yourself from them. Everything that you say and do now is based off of everything you said and did then. And guess what? You are separating yourself from the pack whether it’s intentional or not. Whether you know it or not. I happen to know it.
Age, experience and knowledge. Each man has all three. Not boys, men. Grown men. These three traits now define you. You can no longer be stupid like you used to be. You can no longer make the mistakes you used to make. You can no longer get away with shit simply by saying “What did you expect? I’m a guy.” Bullshit. My age tells me I no longer get to make those old mistakes but I also don’t need to put up with the same old shit I used to put up with. You don’t want to see me? Fine. You don’t want to hang out? Fine. You don’t want to date me? Fine. You don’t want to pay me? Fine. You don’t want to trust me? Fine. You don’t want to believe me? Fine. Go pull that shit on the other guys. There are still plenty of them in the pack just waiting around wondering what’s going to happen next without taking the initiative to make something happen next. Me? I want to buy something? I’m buying it. I don’t have to think twice about it. I’m not in the same tax bracket as the rest of the pack anymore. How did that happen? Age, experience and knowledge. There’s nothing wrong with going to Vegas or Miami for the weekend. Me? I’m not like that anymore. I’m in Barcelona with hand rolled cigars, homemade sangria and dancing with a woman whispering a language into my ear that I don’t understand, but we both understand each other. The rest of the pack will be paying for their weekend trip for the next year on minimum monthly credit card payments. My trip was paid for before I even got on the plane. Why? Age, experience and knowledge. My goals are not like the pack’s goals. They’re trying to figure out what to eat tonight. I already ate and now I’m trying to figure out what I want to eat for the rest of my life. The pack wants to go out to find any available females tonight because it’s mating season for them every night. I’m inside the cave saving myself for a true queen now to share my animal kingdom with. That 9 to 5 has you punching in and out with the rest of the pack on a daily basis. My day job ends then the work on my dream begins and the clock doesn’t stop on my workday. I keep going while the rest of the pack sleeps at night. They can sleep because they are content. Satisfied without the need to hunt more. Not me. Why? Age, experience and knowledge. When that separation from the pack happens you leave a lot behind. A lot. Friends. Family. Lesser men. A life that you can no longer live. A life that you refuse to live. I have separated from the pack. This isn’t about being the alpha male or a lone wolf. This about not being like the rest. I refuse to be lumped in with every other guy at this point in my life. I built this life. I’m all grown up. I’m extremely experienced. And I’m smart as fuck. Age, experience and knowledge. Fuck being in the pack any longer.
I see a lot of men that think they’re wolves and think they have strength, ferocity, claws and teeth. Trying to come off like they’re better than the rest. Truth is, they’re soft. Weak. Scared. They’ll never last in the wilderness by themselves. They don’t have what it takes to survive on their own so they stay with the pack. I can smell the fear on you. If you’re that much of man, if you really are that successful, then why are you still doing what the rest of the pack is doing? Like I said, nothing wrong with that if you like being like the rest of the pack. But embrace it and don’t pretend. You’re a pup and you’re only good for petting. Separating from the pack, from what you know, from what is comfortable isn’t for every man. But it is for me. I’m separating from the pack. Because my age, experience and knowledge at this point in my life now tell me I can.
Until next time. Always take it there.
T
T-blawg 