Buffalo Hill Will Make A Man Out Of You

“I’m a fucking beast,” I say to myself,
I take those first steps running up Buffalo Hill.
There is always some college student slowly walking up it,
Occasionally, it’s a chick whose glorious ass I get lost in,
I’m reminded of what I want in my life.
More often, it’s a scrawny nerd unaware of the world around him,
I’m reminded of what I don’t want to become.
Buffalo Hill will make a man out of you.

When the body is in pain, it’s best to let the mind wander.
Halfway up, my mind runs rampant.
Thoughts of women past, family, friends, war, motorcycle trips,
Parking tickets, writing, money, and schemes for pussy.
Buffalo Hill will make a man out of you.

I’m approaching the final incline,
My stride becomes faster, eyes focus, bellowing grunts.
I reach the peak, smile as I stare down on conquered land.
Nice warm up. I continue my run.
Buffalo Hill will make a man out of you.

~Raul Felix

Read: She Was Traveling Through My Country
Read: Becoming A Beast May Help You Win The Beauty
Read: Keep Moving, Young Man

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God Damn Common Whore Cold

I cough violently. I sneeze as loud as thunder, snot dripping.
“Fuck!”
I blow my nose into a tissue.
I know exactly who got me sick.
That chick with the pink hair I made out with after work.
The next morning, I felt raspy in my throat.
God damn common whore cold.

A few days later, I’m feeling better.
But, my roommates begin to exhibit symptoms.
Same violent coughs, loud sneeze, and snotty noses.
The unmistakable orchestra of the virus’s triumph.
God damn common whore cold.

A couple of weeks later,
The plague has spread to the dwellings of friends who visit often.
Wreaking havoc and causing despair,
Pink scabbed noses and constantly watery eyes.
Dozens of used tissues scattered about,
Empty medicine bottles and Vitamin C tablets,
Vain attempts to control,
That God damn common whore cold.

~Raul Felix

Read: Where Are My Whores?
Read: Eager To Pop My Cherry On The Battlefield
Read: The Witch In My Dream

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Why Young Men Should Become Cougar Slayers

(c) Sergey Furtaev

(c) Sergey Furtaev

For all their youthful vigor, beauty, and perfectly angled selfies that show off their best assets, most young chicks are a real pain in the ass to deal with. Most of them think that the average young guy is incapable of fulfilling them and haven’t been humbled by reality enough to know what characteristics to truly look for in a man. Also, they’ll elevate a minor problem into full-blown drama and then yap about how they’ve been through a lot (of dick). Regardless, many boys and men will compete for their attention because nothing screams Alpha Male like having a hot 21-year-old with an hourglass figure hanging off your arm. Instead of directly going toe-to-toe with other dudes who have airtight game or higher social value than you in such a fiercely competitive atmosphere, why not change the field you operate in and become a cougar-slayer?

For those of you slow on the uptake, cougars are older, mature women usually 40+ who still look pretty damn good because they’ve taken care of themselves throughout the years. They are not to be confused with spinsters and fat-acceptance twats whose bitterness and sloth has left them with a body that only devouring hundreds of gallons of ice cream while watching romantic comedies compounded over many years can produce.

I learned about the unique prowess of these wonderful creatures by pure luck. When I was in the Army, my unit was constructing a bunch of new barracks and ran out of the room to house all the single soldiers. So they decided to give a bunch of us single dudes who had been there for a while an extra allowance for housing so we could get our own places off-post. The apartment I got for myself was near a bar that catered to a more mature clientele because they often hosted cover bands that played classic rock.

As I began to frequent that bar, something occurred that rarely happened to me: Good-looking women with amazing fake breasts and wild 80s-style glam-rock hair began to flirt with me. At the time, my MO was to hit up the bars, hit on chicks who were in my age range, and get promptly rejected. This would lead to me drinking alcohol in frustration and making another sloppy attempt at convincing a chick to let met touch her lady parts, which led to more severe rejections. Frustration drinking would morph into rage drinking, which would have me falling toward a downward spiral of angst and loneliness that ended with me jerking off to nude pictures of my ex-girlfriend.

A new world opened for me. Instead of constantly having my ego destroyed by 6s or 7s who wanted nothing to do with my goofy Mexican self, I was exchanging witty banter, dancing, making out, and more with cougars who were 8s and 9s in their prime and still looked like total foxes. They loved that I was an eager, muscular, clean-cut Latin 22-year-old with an outgoing personality and quirky smile. I loved their feminine physique, no-bullshit attitude, and ability to hold real conversations. It was the beginning of an infatuation that has maintained my interest until this day.

Why should young men experiment with dating cougars? Because they have an insane amount of knowledge to bequeath upon you to expedite the process of growing into a real man. A lot of these women have been hardened by the real world. They have been married, divorced, have full-fledged careers, and may have a few kids to boot. They don’t have time for the petty games that late-teen and early-twenty-something chicks love to play on the male psyche. When they decide to spend time with you, they mean business. They’re able to stimulate you physically and mentally.

Through your interactions with them, you’ll learn about the mistakes both men and women tend to make as they grow older—from having children before they were truly ready to allowing the romance in the relationship to wane. You’ll be exposed to their lifestyle and see how life can look like for you if you make the right or wrong moves. You’ll learn to interact more intelligently and have deeper conversations with the opposite sex. You’ll have a ton of hands-on experience on pleasing your woman in the sack because most cougars are more than willing to coach you into being a good lover.

You shouldn’t exclusively date cougars, but add them to your repertoire of women you consider dating material. Depending on how successful she is, you’ll be able to catch a taste of the high-class life. You know all those pretty young chicks going to all sorts of fancy, exclusive parties and places on social media? Most of them didn’t pay the bill for that. They got there by dating older men who have already established themselves. It’s tough to compete with that as a young man who is barely starting off in the world.

Don’t think just because you’re with an older woman that you can be a lazy sack of shit. If you’re a broke, sloppy mouth-breather with poor personal hygiene and the inability to hold a conversation, these bitches will shut you down quickly. You’re the young stud—play the part. Have enough money to take her out for drinks, be in good shape, dress nice, and have something of value to say. They are still women, after all. You must spark their interest and gain their trust. If you’re able to do those things, you’ll have more than you fill of cougar love, as opposed to trying to scrounge for a bit of attention from a mediocre chick with an overinflated self-worth because she has 2,000 Instagram followers who bombard her with likes every time she posts a cleavage shot.

~Raul Felix

Read: She Had The Body Of A Greek Goddess
Read: Army Rangers Talk About The Times Their Words Have Shocked Civilians
Read: 4 Things Women Can Do To Be More Attractive (From A Non-Beta Bitch Male Perspective)

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To My Future Wife: I Will Make You Proud To Have Me As Your Man

Screen Shot 2015-12-15 at 7.46.01 PM

I write this poem for you because I am lonely.
I write this at this moment because I don’t know who you are,
Or even the prospect of who you may be.
I write this because I need to give myself hope,
To write some words that I desperately need to get out of my system.

Each day I work on myself.
Not just to make myself and my life better,
Also to be better for you.

I work on myself so when the time comes,
I am able to catch your attention and interest,
I am able to impress you with who I am,
I am able to show you I am worthwhile,
I am able to make you proud to have me as your man.

Some days, I struggle and I lie in my bed.
Feeling sorry for myself,
Feeling angry and frustrated,
Feeling defeated, worthless, cheap, dumb, and gullible.

Yet there is this fire inside of me,
I know I can’t just lie there.
I have to continue on my trek to success.
I work hard to make the money to establish myself,
I work out to create a strong body for both your pleasure and protection.
I read in order to increase my wit, intelligence, and knowledge.
I write in order to keep myself sane and develop my true talent.

I want to be a good man.
I want to be good at being a man.
I want to be a good enough man for you.
All of this takes time.

You’re out there; I believe that.
I make you this promise:
No matter how many fake numbers and false starts,
No matter how many flakes, ditzes, sluts, and users I deal with,
No matter how emotionally beaten I become,
No matter how many disappointments or heartbreaks in the process;
I will find you.

When I do,
You’ll be glad to find out about me,
I am a man with the mental fortitude to endure all games,
I am a man with the drive to shrug off rejections with a smirk,
I am a man who is willing to put in the hard work to win you,
I am a man who doesn’t quit.

One day you’ll find this poem among my collections.
I wrote it not knowing who you are,
Yet knowing you exist.
In order to defeat cynicism and hopelessness,
To reignite that flame inside myself,
To move forward another day,
Take another step,
To becoming the man you’ll fall in love with.

~Raul Felix

Read: She May Have Given Up On You
Read: She Wouldn’t Make Me So Angry If She Didn’t Own My Heart
Read: 6 Ways Women Have Rejected Me

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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A Few Maxims On Writing

Keep the ugly,
Find the beauty in the ordinary,
Find the ordinary in the extraordinary.

Write what you know,
Write what you don’t,
Make up the rest.

Take what an academic says with a grain a salt,
What a troll says with a smirk,
What a fan says graciously,
What a lover says as flattery,
What a best friend says with a shot of whiskey.

You’re not special,
Give it time.
No one is waiting for your genius,
Your genius is waiting on you to do the work.

Show up everyday,
Write something great,
Write something good,
Write something mediocre,
Write a ton of terrible pieces.

Struggle,
Hate yourself,
Feel like a failure.
Learn from those greater than you.
Struggle some more.

Lose all hope.

Show up everyday,
Write a ton of terrible pieces.
Write something mediocre,
Write something good,
Write something great.

Feel great.

Check your spelling and grammar.
Be scared to share your work.
Do it any way.

Know the rules,
Fuck the rules.

~Raul Felix

Read: Keep Moving Young Man
Read: How To Find The Greatness Within You
Read: The Witch In My Dream

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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How Much More Do I Need To Bleed?

They say that it’s easy to write,
That all you have to do is bleed on the page.
After feeling the blade of that knife so many times,
One begins to wonder…

How much more do I need to bleed?
Until my fucking soul can be at ease?
Until all those fucking thoughts in my mind are laid to rest?
Until I can at last be fucking content?

Each time cutting yourself,
Reliving memories, events, conversations,
Long since forgotten by others.
Picking apart, dissecting, and analyzing,
In search of that moment of raw humanity.

Eventually the blood stops flowing,
The cut scabs over.
Yet, the soul grows restless,
Needing to expose more of itself to the world.

The bleeding becomes addicting,
The emotional pain becomes a validation of your worthiness as an
Artist.
A benchmark which you judge yourself by,
To see if you truly pushed yourself.

The words are bouncing around in your head,
But it needs your blood to come to fruition.
You cut yourself open once again,
Bleeding out slowly.
As you are reminded of how painful it is,
You begin to wonder…
How much more do I need to bleed?

~Raul Felix

Read: What It Is To Write
Read: She Was Traveling Through My Country
Read: Why Should I Write About Her

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I Miss Those Saturday Nights

I miss those Saturday nights,
Where we would lie in bed,
Laziness consuming us.
Yet, we had planned an exciting night out.

“We’ll start getting ready in five minutes,” I say.
“OK,” you respond as you press your nose into my chest.

Fifteen minutes pass.
We’re still wrapped up in each other’s arms.
“Alright, we’re getting up now,” I declare.
A few seconds pass… then I sit up.
You follow.

You get up from the bed and slowly put on a skirt.
Then I reach for your arm and pull you on top of me.
“I thought we were getting ready,” you say.
“We are…,” I say as I feel up your body.

We would be back where we were before,
In each other’s embrace.
Maybe next Saturday night.

~Raul Felix

Read: Empty Chair
Read: For This One Day, She Made Me Forget
Read: Becoming A Beast May Help You Win The Beauty

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