I am still in the same low point that I’ve been in for 10 days now.

But the pain is less and I’m more in control. Correction: when I say the pain is less, it’s less on the surface. I’m still going through turbulent, wrenching changes that surface as significant pain on occasion. I’m still left dealing with it.

Storm has been prepared for the next little while. While I spend my time in Central Library in Jackson Square, she will roam Jackson Square practicing her self-improvement. She has utmost faith in me and my advice. More than she does in herself.

I’ve injected a lot more erotic sex in my communications with her. I talk about sucking her nipples as she grows erect, kissing her passionately, etc. She has a powerful sex drive, and that’s one more motivator for her to practice, so that she can finally be with me.

My debit card has stopped working. I’m hoping it’s a temporary thing, but if it’s not I have a backup Visa credit card I can always use. I can use the library’s internet computers to clear out the balance accrued on my Visa and keep using it. But I want to stick with the debit. We’ll see how that goes.

I went downtown last night at 3 in the morning, hoping to meet Storm. I was disappointed. But everything, including failed attempts to connect with me, works toward the ultimate goal of us being together.

I am attempting to deal with astronomical levels of violent hate. A big part of the violent hate comes from the pus that I’ve punctured inside my own heart. The whole reason mothers torture their baby boys is to get to this stage of violence and hatred. The aggressiveness is the result of baby boys: (a) being repeatedly told they’re worth nothing by their mothers; (b) being assaulted with pain that puts them in conformity with mothers’ wishes. It’s a crude, simple, but devastatingly effective way to manipulate the man who grows up.

Sometimes I use my hate to lash out at Storm through text messages. I am quite brutal, but I haven’t done this in a little while. I’ve shifted to romance, sex, and encouragement now. Whatever works. I’m not picky.

I talked to my dad last night. He’s still in Niagara Falls and he’s hurting. Today he should be going to the emergency room. Dad overuses the health care system and is a hypochondriac. He is too aware of the health issues that life can present. Meanwhile, I disregard everything but a power tool amputation or a shattered leg bone. I wouldn’t go to the hospital unless it was absolutely required. It would just get in the way.

I think of Storm. It’s 9:42 am and she’s already at work. She won’t be able to succeed in her practice today. She will fail time and again. I’ve encouraged her by text to go it alone and stay away from her friends, who can’t help her in this. I’ve encouraged her not to take long breaks between attempts to socialize with strangers. Keep pressing forward, I told her.

The goal is to gradually wear away at the social conditioning that her mother laid on her when she was a baby girl. Contemptuously, I explained that my changes are infinitely harder than her changes. She wasn’t tortured. She was just lightly conditioned. She doesn’t scream for hours in a row in utter agony. She doesn’t vomit multiple times on her own shoes. She has it easy, and now she knows it.

Unlike most girls, Storm has a healthy self-regard which I’ve destroyed. She no longer has an ego. My overwhelming loathing, contempt, and sneering disregard of her abilities — expressed repeatedly until she buckled — has taken care of her sense of superiority. Now that she’s humble, she will perform at a higher level. And when we get together, as an added bonus (an important one) she is primed to obey.

Storm’s obedience will take a while to execute. I have a feeling that, given enough time and eroticism and mental domination, every girl will obey me naturally. And then there is the unnatural obedience they show to me through head bobbing and submission on the street.

I am not too concerned about getting Storm to obey me. I can get what I need without her on her knees. Control and domination is just going to distract me from the love I need to build, the sex I need to have, to make her addicted to me.

I am in sudden pain right now. It comes and it goes, but it’s always there in the background. Someday soon I’ll be free of all this. I wish I could kill my mother brutally for what she did to me. I wish I wish I wish. But she’s been dead a while now. When I was nine years old I mocked her viciously and called her “veggie” for sleeping in her bed all the time. Like my older sister Katharine, she gave up on life. My father never gave up and will live a long, long time.

There are a lot of weak men out there, who forgive their mommy, who obey their mommy, who get bossed around by the cunts of their life. It is they who gave women the right to vote across the world around 1920. And what a disaster that was.

Women have amassed incredible social power since the 1970s. With the help of loser men, they have infilitrated every sector of society, including the military and the cultural apparatus. And with absolute greed, they always want more, more, more. It’s never enough for them. Eventually, we’re going to get to the stage where every business has a daycare operation and the screams of little children are heard in offices and mothers hurry to attend to take care of the kids while the male workers die inside in agony at the child-noise and chaos. Every attempt will be made to bend society to women’s whim. The courts already support women with everything from domestic abuse to alimony payments.

Life in the West is paradise for women. Gradually, the Islamic World will be pushed to emulate the West and give women everything they want too. The men of the Muslim House don’t want this, but the cultural blitz of the West is enormous and constant. As soon as a significant minority of Muslim men become like the loser men of the West, they’re finished. Women will vote there, and stomp all over men’s faces like they do here. Not that I care about Muslim men. It’s just going to happen.

If you don’t control a woman-slash-women, they will abuse you. Women have psychological gifts and powers beyond measure which enables them, despite their weak nature, to inflict massive mental and emotional harm on men. Men are defenseless. Their torture by their mothers strips them of defenses they could use against this psyche onslaught.

The only protection against women is to arrange society as a whole so that it clamps down on women’s rights and freedoms. This used to be the universal setup up until the 1800s. Then something happened. The most able of the women got together and worked on men’s minds until, over the decades, men gave up. Every time a Hitler arose to strip away women’s rights, women worked to eliminate him. They’d eliminate Donald Trump too if he proved a problem.

Religion used to work to control women. With the death of patriarchal Christianity, this is no longer the case. Women care more about astrology than they do about the Father God. Astrology and tarot cards are the natural religion of women — simple, magical, emotional, unbound by theology or other high-intellect philosophy.

Women’s big, beautiful, emotional eyes are the key to all their authority in the world. They are going to take more and more and more. Men used to burn witches at the stake: this was an attempt to keep a surging womanhood in line. Now, all the laws protect women, and significant numbers of cops are female. More disasters.

In the end, I don’t care. Let the average man suffer under the Dominion of the Bleeding Blood-Clotted Vagina. I control my cunts. It would be better for me if other men were like me, but I don’ t need their help to do what needs to be done.

There remain strong men in the world, a distinct minority that doesn’t get pushed around by Cunt. There aren’t a lot of them, but maybe 5 or 8 percent of men are immune to women and fuck them around as alpha males. It’s a good time to be an alpha male/bad boy. Women spread their thighs willingly for such a one, and do as he says. He can amass a harem easily if he’s not afraid of approaching chicks on the street and in the clubs. Heartiste wrote all about this on his website Chateau Heartiste before the hate-worthy liberals sidelined him.

Somewhere right now there are men sleeping with older women with money, living off them, and banging who they really want to bang — the young 16, 18 year old chick with a tight young body and good attitude. This is what I was going to do until Storm interceded in my life.

Mohammed the founder of Islam hooked up with an older woman with money, and when he became the god of his religion, he acquired multiple pussy, including a 9-year-old girl. He knew what to do.

It is hard to overestimate how much women like alpha males and bad boys. They’re the only men that women really get wet for. The typical beta male, who calls his wife nervously and stays in touch to reassure her, and can’t get more than one woman, is loathed by his bitch. She abuses him savagely. My sister is a dominant female and can’t get even most weak guys who are put off by her bitchiness. She managed to find an extra-weak putz who would do as she said, and she vents herself regularly on his ass, abusing him savagely and without end. She doesn’t want him but she can’t get anyone else. If 5 to 8% of men are desired truly, and 100% of women are out there looking for the minority, and most of the 5 to 8% aren’t getting married any time soon, women are stuck with beta male putz loser simps like Peter, my sister’s weak husband. Men like Peter — I use the term “men” loosely — are what enabled my sister to have a job with the government, economic and political freedom, raw power over men in interpersonal and public spheres. Men like Peter stopped resisting women, and fell like tall grass to the scythe. They lost.

Storm hasn’t given up on me because I am a sexy, smart, fun guy. I am dominant and controlling, and she is intrigued by that. I am the only guy she could get, true, but that doesn’t change the fact that she really, really likes me for what and who I am and would still like me even if all the dick in the world were available to her.

Storm is going to betray Vaginahood as a whole, without realizing it. I am going to guide her so that her special nature works against them. God, I am going to fuck a lot of different girls. I am going to have lots and lots of kids, very soon, improving the gene pool immeasurably. The world needs more Greg Nikolic, as much as it can get, and I’m happy to oblige to provide that for it.

I’m in pain once again. So be it. My head has been ultra-sensitive for days, just touching it. I should have been a seducer at age 11. I could have been. I held back. I was tres mondo patient. I don’t regret it all for an instant. It was a tradeoff: power for sex.

Right now Storm is working. She thinks she’s working for herself, but she’s really working for me. In her desperation to keep me in her life, she is twisting herself into contorted shapes, trying to make a key that will unlock her from isolation. Keep working, girl. Give me what is mine.