June 21, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Au Début or In the Beginning…
I’m trying my best not to laugh as I write this, but a grin still forces its way onto my lips. I smirk because my psychologist says I’m addicted to sex (haha) and as a way to “cure” me of what I believe are my natural urges, I’ve been encouraged to keep a record of my sententia (her fancy name for way of thinking) before and after my sexual trysts. This is an attempt to do that – an attempt I’ll probably not take seriously.
Today, however, I saw my next “prey” (as my psychologist calls them). If my instincts are to be trusted, I’ll have sex with her by the end of the week. She’s sweet but, as regards wit and beauty, she impresses me only slightly. Not to say that she isn’t somewhat beautiful or fairly smart, but I’m a man of exceptionally high standards. Nonetheless, I’m enchanted by her glowing spirit. She’s so light-hearted, delightful, eager to help others and cheerful while working that I can’t help liking her. Plus, she has this childishly pure smile, which betrays no guile; I suppose that’s what has really enflamed my strange lust – my sweet, violent urge. As such, I’ve decided to give myself to her entirely, though only for a short time – perhaps a night or so, but definitely no longer than a week.
I met her in Bistrot La Renommée, a little café with an amiable appeal close to the harbour of Quai Valin. It’s where she works. She’s the cute barista that serves with a smile and special gleam in her eyes.
I like the little café and its environs, it reminds me of when I was living with my parents in my teenage years – times were simpler then. Not to say that my life isn’t simple now, but still, times were simpler then and, on occasion, especially when I’m at my lowest, I need to be reminded of those days.
Many times have I walked to the harbor searching for a healing sensation and inspiration to do art. And the pleasant little place never leaves me wanting of “soul food,” it always manages to refresh my spirit. All painters need their spirits renewed at times, I suppose. In fact, I think all creative people do. Pouring your soul onto a canvas, a piece of paper, or over soundtrack can be enriching, but explaining your work to people who are aspect blind (sightless to the souls of others) can prove taxing even on the most patient spirit. I suppose that’s why the faces of most artists are mixtures of frowns and furrows.
Anyways, I divagate.
This morning at about 8, I was promenading as usual along the charming harbour when the mood to sip on a Caf au Lait extemporaneously came upon me. So, I asked one of my fellow strollers to recommend a coffee shop and he sent me to the one mentioned above. That’s where I saw her, Laure-Michèle. I ordered my coffee. She made it. Then for a few short seconds, we joked about how similar parts of our names were – her first name being Laure, my middle name being Laurent. I could tell from our little chat that she’s someone I’d enjoy holding in the throes of feverish passion – if only for night. To that end, tomorrow or perhaps the day after, I’ll start seducing her.
Such is my sententia at 10:21 pm on this warm mid-summer night.
Bonne nuit (good night),
Patron of the Venusian Arts.
June 23, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Sur Le Sexe de Nos Jours or On Sex These Days
This entry has very little to with Laure-Michèle. What follows is my line of thought on attitudes to the sexual act these days in contrast to those of days gone by – “holier” days.
In our epoch, because of relaxed sexual mores, some women will have sex on the same night a man sparks their interest, some will wait a week, others two, and some might even venture to wait a month. The rare ones still exist, though, who, because of some moral principle or religious disposition, will wait until marriage – they’re to be eschewed entirely. Similarly, insofar as one’s libido allows, women who will have sex within the first week are to be avoided too because they’re not usually psychologically balanced. Oh Lord! I sound like a woman hater who wants them to do the impossible, i.e. remain true to the roles a patriarchal society has laid out for them and at the same time be sexually expressive. I have no such paradoxical wish, so let me elaborate. As a result of the way our social structure is set up, there are two types of women who will have sex within the first three weeks: the extremely enlightened and the insecure. And since insecure people out number enlightened people by millions or perhaps billions, it is much more common to find an insecure woman having sex before having an idea who she is giving her body to, which on average takes a week. Ergo, since insecure people are to be avoided, one must be very weary of a woman who is too “easy.”
All in all, though, this age is a seducer’s nightmare. The game has gotten too easy, courtship has lost its charm – things happen way too fast. I suppose I sound outdated and mid-Victorian – I don’t think I am. I repudiate that ages strict sexual mores. However, I can never fully subscribe to the “I don’t want to work for anything” psychology that permeates modern society. It’s all destination, and no journey with today’s people. In days gone by (holier days), the wooing process meant something. In fact, the wooing process was almost everything. A man wanted to know a woman and a woman a man before they took their clothes off. It made their play underneath the sheets sweeter. Not so with most of today’s people who are too loose and “liberated” to appreciate working for something, anything – they want to put the cart before the horse so to speak. So deplorable is the current sensibility, that it is common to find intelligent “women whisperers” who have made it the goal of their lives to learn how to psychologically manipulate women into sleeping with them on the first night of interaction by pushing their “evolutionary buttons,” as if women are just mere machines. They understand as I do that attraction is not a choice. But they don’t know as I do that true seduction is the opposite of sex – it’s not about licentious conquest, it’s about liberation from the common place and the ordinary. It’s the spiritual unification of souls on a metaphysical though sexual plane where one soul oozes into the other, forming something new and beautiful. That’s why, as far as possible, seducers must take time to know their “victims” because a novel beauty, which is the end product of true seduction, is the offspring of a real connection.
I make a million sighs because the contemporary palate desires cheap, drunken sex to proper courting…Poor spirits with somnolent senses! Although, I cannot disparage the age too harshly, lest I be a hypocrite, as my desires sometimes lead me to chase after the lowest and most unedifying kinds of sexual satisfaction.
Such is my sententia at 7:24 am on a warm summer morning.
À la prochaine (until next time)
A concerned Casanova
June 23, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Jeux Vénusienne et Caf au Lait or Venusian Games and Caf au Lait …
At about 10 this morning, when things weren’t busy at all, I went back to the café with the intention of formally starting the seduction process. As always, the process of drawing someone out of their mundane reality and enflaming their wildest imaginations, which is what proper seduction is, starts with getting them to divulge information about their core romantic needs. It’s a kind of bearing of the soul almost similar to confessing to a priest. The only difference is the seducer has to get his “victim” to do it without being aware that they are. Direct prompting must almost never be used. Therefore, most of the knowledge obtained in this way will be inferential.
As such, when I saw Laure-Michèle this morning, I made sure to strike up a common conversation about movies and music. I made sure to keep the atmosphere cordial because I didn’t want her to get the impression that I was after her number or her body (not as yet, at least). I was purely after information about her outlook on life and how better to tell what a person is all about than by the movies and music they consume? To the psychologically savvy, the logic is simple: children only play with toys that mean something to them. This, in essence, means that we like people and things that somehow symbolize something in our own selves (albeit, though, most of us are unaware that this is how we come to like and love). So, then, the music and movies we indulge in most often are usually indicative of who we are, or at the very basic, who we’d like to be.
As mentioned before, I started off slowly, expecting to take my time to protrude into her psyche. This is not to say, however, that I didn’t leave a prominent impression on her after the conversation because, as far as I can tell, I did, but it was done in a natural, unassuming and charming way, which is my seductive way. I’m indeed the classic charmer.
Conceptually, there are nine distinct seducer types: sirens, rakes, ideal lovers, dandies, naturals, coquettes, charmers, charismatics and stars. Each type has a particular character trait that comes from deep within and creates a seductive pull. Sirens have an abundance of sexual energy and know how to use it. Rakes insatiably adore the opposite sex, and their desire is infectious. Ideal Lovers have an aesthetic sensibility that they apply to romance. Dandies like to play with their image, creating a striking and androgynous allure. Naturals are spontaneous and open. Coquettes are self-sufficient, with a fascinating cool at their core. Charmers want and know how to please – they’re social creatures. Charismatics have an unusual confidence in themselves. Stars are ethereal and envelop themselves in mystery.
To varying degrees, each human contains, more than one of the seductive traits. I, for example, am a charmer first and foremost, a coquette, then a dandy, and a natural (last and perhaps, least). As a charmer, I try to make my conversations pleasing; as a coquette, I spend a lot of time alone and I hardly ever seek out the company of others; as a dandy I paint two of my nails black and wear layered jewellery and carry myself with an almost feminine gentility; and as a natural, I’ve cultivated a playful spirit, which is quite infectious.
It follows, then, that as a charmer primarily, during my conversation with Laure-Michèle, I allowed her to do most of the talking. I didn’t flirt heavily, but was playfully teasing – I had to be in order not to fall into the dreaded “friend zone.” Also, I paid attention to everything she did and responded to her in a mirror-like fashion, showing her that her dislikes and likes were also mine. People like other people who share their taste and as a master conversationalist, throughout our brief talk, I made her feel as if she were talking to herself. After all, Who doesn’t want to feel perfectly understood all the time?
As I recall it now, I must say how proud I am of how I started off the conversation; I was quite clever. She was daydreaming behind the counter, so she didn’t see when I came in. On finding her in reverie, I walked up and said “well yes, she’s thinking about it. She’s thinking of a stratagem.” It’s a line from the widely acclaimed and beloved comedy, Amélie. I’ve heard it said that the Sistine Chapel embodies all that is admirable of Italian culture, while the heights of French culture is realized in Amélie.
On hearing my voice, the girl was called back to reality, the here and now.
“Yes, yes I am,” she replied playfully.
“Please tell me you know where that line is from!” I replied with a sort of playful, adolescent condescension.
She confirmed, smiling all the time that she didn’t know. “I don’t, I’m sorry,” she must have said.
“Do you even watch movies?” I asked wryly.
“What’s your favorite then?”
She told me that her favorite to date is “De rouille et d’os” (Rust and Bone). I’ve seen it. It’s the raw but beautiful story of two wounded people who form a bond based on recognition and acceptance of the others pain. It shows rather intelligently the intricacies of modern romance and how in a secular age, when “God is dead,” we’re all searching for our own personal Jesus in a romantic other – the one who is supposed save us from being lonely and unknown, which is sort of a death before the death. How can you be alive if you’re unknown?
I told her my favourite movie was Amélie. She laughed.
After talking about movies, we talked about music briefly. Her favourite musician is Laurent Voulzy and her favourite album by him is “Lys and Love.” I’ve spent part of the afternoon skipping through songs on it to get a better picture of her world. Not surprisingly, the album tenders to romance. Interestingly, though, it has this medieval tone to it that doesn’t fail to set the mood for love-making.
We didn’t talk much longer after I found out about her favourite music.
From a seducer’s perspective, I ended the conversation perfectly. After I got the information I wanted, I quickly ordered my coffee even though it was obvious that she wouldn’t mind prolonging our chat. When she gave me the coffee, I wished her a very sweet and hearty goodbye and left rather curtly for my studio. A good seducer always keeps them wanting more.
Now, I’m sitting here musing over what I’ve learnt about my lust’s inspiration. So far, I can see that she’s a hopeless romantic. She’s in love with the idea of love. Also, she has not overcome one of her heartbreaks. This is clear to me since her favourite songs and especially movie are about the scars to be had on love’s battlefield. Naturally, though, she’s looking to heal, she wants a happy ending. Who doesn’t?
In addition, I’m guessing that she’s closer to her father than to her mother because her favorite singer is a man. I’m also thinking that her father was very warm and kind since this singer sounds warm and kind and he is who she fantasizes about. Most people would say no, but I strongly believe people’s romantic aspirations are usually inspired by some parental figure. The girl’s parental background will become clearer the more we talk.
Verily, then, today was a success and I must say I’m developing a love for journal keeping. Tomorrow, I’ll do some of my work in the corner of the café as I try to embed myself more deeply into her consciousness. We will no doubt exchange pleasantries, I’ll be sure to make them as charming as possible.
Such is my sententia at 10:15 on yet another warm summer night.
A bientot (see you soon)
You know who, Jean-Laurent.
The one who walks in couloirs (corridors) and doesn’t make a sound.
June 24, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Profond or Deeper…
Her pendulum hips are beginning to plague me, I want her right now! But I must and will exercise restraint. Too many platonic relationships that were on their way to becoming fine romances have dissolved because unbridled passion was given way to much too early. Still, Heaven knows! I want to feel her against me, her pelvis touching mine, those hard, ripe breast pushing against my chest, our lips locked passionately…I’ll stop before I get too carried away by these arousing imaginations. May the game of cat and mouse end quickly!
While it is to be played, though, let it be played expediently. To that end, from here on in, the plan is to deepen my effect on my “prey.” I’m sure she has already identified me as a potential suitor and I intend to be viewed as the only one for her by the time I’m done. If done right, she’ll be the one chasing me; the seduced will become the seducer!
How will I accomplish all this? Well, I’ll become her greatest source of a teasing, sexual mystery – a sort of inviting darkness. See, people pretend to love knowledge and certainty. But actions speak louder than words: we live in a world where silly suspense novels outsell science books by a ratio of 10:1 or greater. It’s abundantly clear to me, then, that most people love to guess and be kept guessing. What they’re after is a pleasant surprise, one which pulls them out of an often boring reality.
I digress again.
Anyways, I’ll keep working on my sketches in the café so that I’m ever in Laure-Michèle’s sight. The more she sees me, the more comfortable she’ll be around me. This is extremely important because before a heart can burn with passion, it has to be relaxed. As such, every conversation with her will be free of debates or arguments. If she says something that I strongly disagree with, I’ll simply say “I’m not so sure about that but then again I’m not so sure about many things” and if she persists in seeking discord, which she probably will, I’ll just “freeze out” (give no reply). It’s hard to argue with someone who is not arguing. And if there’s no argument, pleasant feelings will be made perpetual…AFTERALL; I’M HER SOURCE OF COVERT PLEASURE.
Additionally, I’ll maintain an air of business so that she’ll value my attention because she has to compete with my work for it. This will set me up as a man of high value in her.
Oh, and I must not forget this very important point: I will not ask her for her number until I have a good reason to. And I suspect that by the time this sweet, clandestine process is over, she’ll naturally volunteer it…The greatest hunters let their prey come to them!
Such is my hunting and making of schemes on this cool summer morning.
Avec impatience (impatiently)
The one who harbours a burning desire.
June 25, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Flotte de L’amour or Fleet from Love…
An all-consuming silence fills my studio and the smell of fresh flowers, roses and peonies, burn my nostrils. I’m allergic to them. Mrs Beaudreau, my helper, must have brought them here. If she only knew how they chastise my poor sinus…
My heart is burdened as well, albeit, with something sweeter; thoughts of Laure-Michèle flood my scheming mind. It always gets like this. Every seducer falls in love at least once during the process. The good ones guard against it though because it is a snare. Potent emotions giddy the head and spoil rationality. These are the antagonists of seduction, as the analysis and sententia necessary for it require calm and cold detachment.
I’ll stay away from the café for a day or so until my heart behaves.
This is retreat, not surrender!
Candidement or (candidly)
Seeker of seductive Zen.
June 27, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
Le début de la fin or The beginning of the end…
I was sitting in corner doing sketches and sipping on my caf au lait when it happened. It’s what I had been waiting for – “the beginning of the end” as I call it. And although I could tell that it was coming, I’m happy I didn’t have to wait any longer. Thoughts of her were killing me.
There are few signs that let me know that it was coming, which I’m keen to expose. Firstly, she kept looking at me every 40 seconds (humans look at things they like every 40 seconds). Secondly, she was much more attentive to me that when we first met. And thirdly, she holds my gaze for more than 5 seconds (yes, I’ve counted!)
What did she do exactly? Well, something seemingly small, but it indicates a step further in the relationship between the girl and I. She asked me if ever been to the Le Triolet Club on the other side of town. “It’s where I go to dance,” she says. I told her that I’ve never, and that we should make a night of it. “I’m going this Friday,” she told me. So, I guess we’re going this Friday.
I can’t help but feel that victory is near!
Conquistador of love.
June 29, 2012 – La Rochelle, France
La Nuit du Chasseur or The Night of the Hunter…
“It is not enough to conquer; one must learn to seduce,” says Voltaire, and obviously I believe him. This is a quote I repeat to myself before every “hunt.” I guess it gets me into the right frame of mind.
…Tonight is Friday night – the night! Victory is close, but so is failure! Only the morning will tell!
Tusqu’au matin (till morning)
The one who goes on a chase!