I Used to Pick Daisies

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When I was a kid I used to pick daisies.With each flower petal I wished with alacrity that she would love me, though she usually loved me not. But all the petals in the world didn't change a thing or even have any sort of real meaning. Women do not care about the men who fawn over them, if they did no single man hoping for a woman would really be single. His hopes for a lady friend would just force someone into his life.


Now I can better read women and let's just say I had to learn this the hard way. Learning how to make sense of the sort of actions that people exude on a consistent basis is perhaps one of the most fundamental turning points in nearly everyone who possesses this useful life skill. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you don't have this skill.

If you still think I'd at least have a chance...if only
Then trust me, sir you'll find yourself lonely.

Any girl worth having acknowledges when she's attracted to someone through some sort of movement. People say the eyes are a dead give away and they are more than likely right. A genuine smile is readily recognizable by the human eye. If you see one in your line of view, you know just what that conveys.

Indifference hurts more than hate. Women are always cold to the men that they are indifferent towards. If her pretty eyes never wander in your direction, consider yourself irrelevant.

She has to ponder for a second. All of us are equipped with imagination. Our thinking knows no limit. The only limits that exist are those we establish. Therefore, if a woman does not have even a crumble of thought about you and her...it's a sign of disinterest.



How do I get her to hesitate, look up, and envision something more than a glance?

Easy.

With every passing moment, I remember all the dead petals and daisies I picked. I picked like every petal actually mattered and that luck would favor me, the sappy, desperate kid with nothing but hope. That may work in some warped, delusional nerd book, but this is real life and with that comes real love. Real love has its roots, its very foundation in imaginative fantasy; without interest, there is no chance hopeless romantic or not.

Indifference and even hate are not barriers to finding love. The only one that can limit your pursuit is you and her. That means, if she doesn't know what you stand for as an individual, it's your job to tell her. We live in a sick country where people have other people speak for them, but that doesn't change the fact that the guy who walks up and talks to the one he wants always gets rewarded. Fortune really does favor the brave.

Futile dreamer, actions make the man, words solidify the game...nothing else matters.
In that, cloak yourself in the appropriate tools and go out there and get your girl. Be as highflying and ruthless as you want to be in your quest for the one. All is fair in love and war.

Trust me, I had to learn it the hard way. I have the dried up daisies to prove it.

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