It was almost exactly 13 months ago since we wrapped up production on Infield Exposed. Taping myself changed my game. Then I started thinking:

“What would happen if we took the best guys in the world and put all of them on tape?”

I got very exited. With independent 3rd party video we’d finally see the truth about where all the self-proclaimed gurus we’re really at. More importantly, we would see what works and what doesn’t. We would see which dogma actually changes reality and which is just armchair fantasy. We would see all the different ways to be good with women. I knew that my own view of what worked and what didn’t would radically change. I braced myself, swallowed the ego bashing that I knew I was going to get, and Infield Insider was born.

I learned from absolutely everybody we have had so far on the product. But I had no idea of the magnitude of the lessons I would learn and how all that ended up changing my game.

This list isn’t about hype. It’s based on two things. The performers ability to a) create real results with real women and b) their ability to bring value by breaking their method down in a learnable format. Also, nobody that is a Mehow, Inc. instructor, including myself will ever be on the list for obvious reasons.

But there is a deeper reason behind the list. The list itself is evidence of the changes that are coming to the community. It turns out most of us have been drinking the wrong Kool-Aid and I’m going to expose some of that today. Insanity, after all, is believing in something even though you are presented with clear evidence to the contrary. You can keep drinking the Kool-Aid or read on …

Here is the First Annual Infield Insider Top 8:

1. Hypnotica – March/April 2008 – “Hand me my light saber … it’s the one that says ‘Hypnotica: Bad Motherfucker.’” Hypnotica is in my humble opinion the best actual pickup artist in the whole world (from all the guys I have videotaped so far). Furthermore, it’s highly likely he is the best in the world, period. His skills are paranormal. Hypnotica was forged by 15 years of constant, frequently brutal, self-imposed self-improvement. He put himself in the most challenging female laden environment ever by managing exotic dancers (who are the most impossible women to deal with on a daily basis) professionally for the entirety of those 15 years. Those years of training gave him truly super natural intuitive abilities with women. If I had to take a wild guess, I would say that Hypnotica runs a minimum of 50 “sets” a week. Over 15 years that’s 39,000 sets. To top it off Hypnotica is a master hypnotist and NLP practitioner. His infield footage showed it. He made out with a ton of girls, got a ton of phone numbers, and bounced a set out of the venue right on camera. That was only the 3rd bounce ever recorded on tape (the other two were myself and our coach Kamouflage on Infield Exposed and the premier issue of the Insider). But it wasn’t the results that were amazing. It’s how he did it. Pay careful attention to what I’m saying here because you will start to notice a pattern as we go through the rest of the Top 8 list. Hypnotica rarely talked for more than 10 seconds before the woman spoke and he always got a response. There wasn’t a DHV story to be found. He was constantly plowing massive sexuality and edgy dominance and everything was super interactive. Additionally, he ran around the entire night with no wing. Plus, his command of NLP based techniques was so good it was spooky. From my own background his game shouldn’t have worked. For a while I rationalized that all that was because of his mega dominant vibe and that somehow that style of game wouldn’t work for most guys, including me. I was wrong. Watching his footage changed mid game and winging for me forever. Hypnotica is the #1 PUA in the world, and his teaching ability is also quality. From the time it occurred to me to have a list in 08, I had no doubt, even before the year ended, as to who would be #1. Hypnotica deserves it. No “PUA” has worked harder and longer than him. He is the definition of “Natural Game.”

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2. Sinn – September 2008 - Sinn had the fastest kiss close ever recorded on tape: under 3 minutes. Sinn’s background was very similar to mine, we were both Mystery’s instructors for a bit. You can see those MM roots in his footage but he brings the heat in all sorts of unique ways. To just name a few: he is extremely dominant, his sound bites are very high impact, his sexual frames are genius, and the “ex-fiance” tweak I’ve been using ever since I heard it. His mid game style is a mix of traditional DHV storytelling comfort and brief high impact sound bites. On his footage, he kiss closed and got numbers, but the best thing about him is how he can break it all down. I pride myself on my understanding of PUA theorycraft but Sinn definitely gives me a run for my money. His episode was the best explained one. I hardly had to talk at all which was a relief. Sinn is super focused on brining value to his students. None of the “old Sinn” stuff is true anymore. The cat is a down-to-earth, uber cool guy who brings loads of value to anybody within a 5ft radius at all times. If PUA’s had 5 star hotel ratings, Sinn would have 6 stars.

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3. Ryan Stock aka Jack of Diamonds – August 2008. Ryan is the sleeper hit of 08 on this list. He is barley in the PU space commercially. On his footage he got number closes but what shocked me was the totally different style. His game is all NLP based 10 second sound bites that result in tons of interactivity. He never talks about identity. He never tells any stories. Yet the girls are really into him. He taught me all sorts of NLP based communication tweaks that I have since been adding to my own game. Just like Hypnotica’s game, Ryan’s mid-game was wildly different from my own understanding yet it was incredibly effective. You have to see this footage, it’s completely and totally different from anything else you have ever seen before. I’ve never even heard of anyone else that runs this style. It’s not “natural game,” it’s more like synthetic interactive NLP game. Plus Ryan can break it down very succinctly.

4. El Topo – November and December 2008. El Topo is another uber natural. His game starts off by “standing around” (his words not mine) and then using a variety of techniques to screen women who are open to sexuality, have good logistics, and are his type. On his footage he kiss closes and number closes. His main focus and strength is his midgame. His game is also highly interactive with less than 10 second sound bites. Not a lot of stories in his game either. I got tons out of his advanced concepts on analyzing and using sexual body language. His style is also totally different from traditional community game. The only constructive criticism I have for El Topo is that his teaching style seems currently far better suited for guys that have a solid grasp of the basics already. But he is a closing and closing education machine. If it wasn’t for modern prophylactic technology, there would be a lot of buns in a lot of ovens with El Topo’s name on them. His mid-game is epic. To top it off, El Topo is super dedicated and passionate about his students.

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5. David Wygant – March 2008. His was the best daygame episode we have produced to date from any commercial PUA. He number closed a very hot blonde in a very serendipitous manner. The set was so smooth that a lot of people accused him of staging it. We were there, it wasn’t staged. David is one of the best “Natural Game” gurus out there. I learned a lot from him about the importance of serendipity, listening to girls more, and being “king of your domain.” I’m a huge fan of structure, so I deeply appreciate when someone that comes from an unstructured background can teach me something.

6. APB – February 2008 – APB is an innovator and his footage showed it. He was the first guy to show me that solo winging of any variety was possible, his “you are absolutely fucking adorable” sexual direct style is something everyone should try and his set splitting techniques were solid. He number closed on his footage and proved that dominant game works even if you aren’t huge like Hypnotica. APB’s comfort game looks like very traditional DHV story based comfort phase. APB is fanatically dedicated to helping Asian guys (and all guys) everywhere be better with women. He is now coaching Kevin from PUA2 according to my sources.

7. Sean Messenger – June 2008. I’ll be honest, our cameras spooked Sean. He got a major case of stage freight and posted in his blog about it afterwards. But he still got out there and delivered quality day game footage and number closed. Sean is amazing at “naturally connecting” with women. If you are into day game at all, then his episode is a must have. I learned a lot from him including how to steer conversations into more useful directions without it being weird (that btw is a common problem in daygame).

8. Carlos Xuma – October 2008 – Carlos, via his “Alpha Lifestyle,” is one of the founders of the natural game movement. Carlos is really NOT into PUA material. His game is all about taking exactly where you are right now in your life and using your genuine personality to get results. On his footage he proved that you can pickup women in the Mac store by being yourself.

There you have it. The Top 8 of 2008.


I want you to ignore the hype that’s probably going through your head right now and look at the type of game employed by the top 4 guys:

1. Hypnotica – no storytelling comfort, lots of interactivity with sexuality and dominance, doesn’t ever talk for more than 10 seconds
2. Sinn – some story telling comfort, but his most effective segments are again “lots of interactivity with sexuality and dominance.”
3. Ryan Stock – no storytelling comfort, super interactive, doesn’t ever talk for more than 10 seconds
4. El Topo – little storytelling comfort, more interactivity, more sexuality, rarely talks for more than 10 seconds

Guess what? All these guys are by all reports freaky good at closing the deal and you can see it in their footage. The single biggest differentiator they have from community game (aka Mystery’s game) is the way they run midgame/comfort phase is somewhat to completely different. Specifically, Hypnotica, Ryan Stock, and El Topo have radically departing styles from “the norm” as written in the bible called “The Game.” Their styles very much feel like “natural game.” That obvious difference, combined with a lot other factors forced me to take a good hard look at the structure of comfort. I knew I had uncovered something huge…

There was only one problem. Nobody has actually broken down natural game into its start to finish components. Apparently, the only way to master “natural game” for real was to run 39,000 sets on strippers. I’d be 60 before I was done. There had to be another way to find out if storytelling comfort was broken and natural game was the answer. (To be continued …. )

This is turning into the longest blog I have ever written so I have to wrap it up.

But before I go let me give a bit of a clue as to what’s going to happen with the Insider in 09. First off, we have some of the best in the industry lined up including Entropy, Doc Holiday, AFC Adam Lyons, and Spear. Were also going to have repeat performances by Hypnotica (daygame) and Sinn. And I can already tell you that the Top 8 list will see some significant changes. You are also going to see a lot of new footage from me, the new coaches, and both Kamouflage and Fuji on both the Insider and new Infield Exposed. Who knows what we’ll discover next year (but you should get on the bus, fyi). You will even see me running mid game something akin to Hypnotica BAMF style … it works, I’ve been running it for the last 4 months and it’s amazing. More on that in the upcoming weeks.

Finally, to continue impartiality we’ll take do our best to accommodate any guru that want’s to be on the Insider in 2009. And if you are unknown the simply send a demo reel to mel@mehow.tv and we’ll consider you.

http://mehow.tv/blog/?p=606#comment-2556

It's 12:04 PT. I'm in a gorgeous hotel in La Jolla, overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Downtown San Diego is a few miles to the south. There's a group of people with hidden cams and wireless mics and a VIP section waiting for me.

And I'm not going. I am... afraid.

I spent a few hours this afternoon with the guys from Infield Insider. We had lunch. We talked about how we can use this field and smart marketing and good products to help people, to save men and women from lonliness and depression and isolation. And we went out to a local mall with the camera ready to roll.

It rolled. It rolled as I fell a little in love with a beautiful woman who fell a little in love with me. It rolled for a full hour as we created a space where nothing existed but our eyes. It rolled and captured everything I could have possibly hoped for, and made me feel good and honored and hopeful that what I teach now can be shown, and it can inspire men to be their best selves and find that the Universe will bring them the women who turn them on in the best way.

And then we planned to go back out tonight.

Sure, why not? In professional terms, it was like I had stepped up to the first tee and knocked a drive 400 yards straight down the fairway. It was like I played my first 10 hands of blackjack perfectly and parlayed $100 to $1000. House money. I've got nothing to lose.

And I'm saying this from my hotel room, and the comforting glow of my laptop, writing you as my puppy chases a bottle cap across the floor.

I'm not ready for it. For all of it.

I spent 20 years of my life using alcohol to soothe social nerves. Oh, I loved going out. I loved being the center of attention. I loved cranking up the engines and blowing out the pipes. More cerveza? Si! Another shot of Jimmy Beam? Fire it back. Cannonball, coming around!

Everyone who met me got the same story.

"I'm actually very shy."

"What. EVER! You are so full of shit! Let's get a drink."

"Sounds. Good."

Another drink. Another late night. Another girl, another distraction, another way to never ever ever think about what I was, who I was.

And I'm DONE. Done with that.

I'm 37 years old. I look like 27. I credit it to good-living, jokingly, with bourbon and cigarettes and bad sleeping habits. But it's probably because I always offset those late nights with long mornings in the gym, working off the toxins, working out the shame, that weird sense of doom I'd wake with when the hangover clouded my brain.

This past month I have grown more than any time in my life. I've been reading and writing and breathing. I've been stilling my brain. I have started to finally take myself seriously. I made some horribly hard decisions that hurt people I swore I would always take care of. I cut them away to save myself, and I don't regret it for a second. I'm sorry for the pain I caused, but I did it with a full heart.

And I'm not about to fucking change that for anything.

I have no desire to go to a club to flirt with drunk 20-year olds. To be honest, I NEVER did, even when I was a drunk 20-year old. That's not entertaining for me. That's people at their worst. Or maybe at their best. Maybe it's just ME at my worst. And I am tired of being my worst. I see glimpses of my best now, and I saw it again today in a moment with a beautiful woman.

I'm scared to walk into a club unarmed. No booze. No shield. No ego.

I don't know if I can do it. I mean, fuck, I've never done it before. I always joked I would never be the designated driver, because I had no idea why the fuck anyone would go to a bar unless they were going to get hammered.

Well, now I know. And I know this. Scared or not, I'm going out tomorrow. I will wake early, and grab a big breakfast in PB and talk secret surf spots with the waitress. I will talk to more girls in the daytime and show the world you can just talk about what you love and find what she loves and have something real. I am going to rest.

And then I'm going to put on clothes I never wear, clothes that I know make me look good and confident and like someone who knows what he's doing. And I'll get mic'd up, and go to a club, NOT knowing what I'm doing.

Embracing it. I will be me. No jokes. The girls want to dance and party and find someone to entertain them, let them. That's not my game. I'm not here for anyone's entertainment. I'm here for nothing but Love.

It's taken me too goddamn long to find who I am, and I'm not letting it slip out of my hands now. But for you, for every man who has had the same fear, who has watched the clock tick as he waited for that magic moment when he knew he could just blow off his friends waiting at the bar and make up some excuse to cover the fact that he just plain didn't want to goddamn go... I am going.

No one wants to be who they are. Everyone is sad. Everyone is lonely. And people at the club feel this most of all.

Tomorrow I am going to take a little of the happiness I have found on my own, and see if I can find someone who wants to share it. It is my gift. It is mine to give. And it's selfish and cowardly to keep it hidden because of my own uncertainty.

I may fuck up. I may fuck up and not talk to anyone. I may fuck up and drain 10 shots and talk to everyone. I may start a fight. I may sulk in a corner. I may run screaming ripping the wireless mic off (and a lot of chest hair along with it).

Or I may just enjoy an evening out in the company of lovely young women that EVERYONE expects the worst of.

I will expect the best.

One love,

Sean


Part II. Intuition, and Your Karma Will Always Guide You

I don't know quite how to tell this.

I looked into the face of the devil tonight.

Not the red, fiery, horned wacko from Halloween costumes. I mean the devil in me. The devil that has been tagging along and dragging me down and just making me slide just enough to maybe... kill me.

The devil in him got Jim Morrison. And I know his story so well, too well, but I never got the whole of the story.

The devil in me is the same. The devil is ego, pride, competition for the sake of gratification, gluttony, shame, selfish desire. The need to be worshipped to take the place of never really being loved.

I came here this weekend not knowing what would happen. I embraced that. I told myself I embraced the possibility of failure (judged in public and at great financial risk). And today, I went forth and failed. I went to the mall to flirt with girls again. It felt all wrong right from the start.

So what did I do? I PLOUGHED. I tried to breathe, but I see now I didn't. I tried to Love, but I see now I couldn't. I stalked the mall like a predator, like a big cat on the plains at night looking for prey, and every word out of my mouth dripped venom. I choked on them as I found myself mouthing the bullshit that worked so well for me before... the things that I said when I was a boy with no idea who I was.

And girls hated me. They stared right through me. I kept wondering things like, do I smell? Do I have a booger showing? What the fuck is wrong?

I knew what was wrong. My instincts, my heart, were telling me to run. But I had a professional obligation. A code. I had to get good footage. I had to do it for you, I told myself. I had to to it to teach, to spread the good word.

BULL. SHIT.

I had to do it for me. I had to do it to compete, to impress others. I had to impress Mehow (who's a nice guy, and very easy-going and charming). I had to do it to impress his cute girlfriend who mentioned how the club the night before was just full o 10s and how I missed out. I had to do it to impress myself and the prove something. I had to battle these pressures in myself. Battle ghosts I invented to compete with, like crazy-ass Michael Jordan inventing grudges to push himself to win.

I wanted to battle every pickup artist ever. I wanted to battle and destroy people I love and respect, like Hypnotica, and Cory, and Stephane, and everyone I ever saw charm women with what seemed like effortless ease. I wanted to show I belonged, fuck, that I OWNED the big leagues and had some truth that no one else could tell, and could be the big dog.

And my karma fucking burned up with that pride, that fucking stupid, killer, destructive pride. I had no Love. I had no soul. I had no joy to give, and it showed.

But the devil wasn't done with me yet. I let my little monkey brain run, and concocted a plan to reserve bottle service at a nice club in town, and told the camera guys to get ready. That's the way it works here. You get a table and fork over the money so you've got a spot, and you've got drinks for the girls. Makes it easy, they say, because the girls will always want to come over to your table if you've got drinks.

Funny, as soon as I heard it all I thought was that old David D. rule of "never buy her a drink." But maybe it's evolutionary, y'know? Maybe it's just a way of being polite, of playing along so everyone's comfortable. That's what I told myself. And I was ready.

I went to the bar early to check it out. Beautiful place. Good-looking people. Friendly manager more than happy to hook up the bottle service, and even cut me a good deal on a pretty expensive proposition. And there's a couple of women looking at me as I sit at the bar, and have my first real drink in months. I savor my tequila. I savor my beer, and start chatting with the bartender, and when he asks what I'm drinking, I reflexively answer and get another.

I'm feeling it. Whatever it is, I'm feeling. Good. Comfortable. I know this. I go to a bar. I have some social lubricants. My brain turns off just enough for lower instincts to kick in, and at some point a cute girl ends up with me.

I'm gonna do it. I have to, for you. No, for my ego. To compete. To get that trophy... that no one really gives a shit about, even me.

Hours later, a miracle happens.

I can't get the bottle service. Forces beyond my control come together and ruin my plan. And I am PISSED. How could this be happening? This whole weekend is coming apart. I had it down, I had it set up. We're gonna rock it tonight and I'll get two months of DVDs showing what a stud I am and then I really be able to reach people, right? I'll be able to teach the real stuff and spread the dharma like my oh so fashionable tattoos ostensibly tell people I'm here to do.

It's all fucked. My great plan, fucked. So I do what I do when things in life are fucked. I walk my dog outside and smoke a cigarette. I'm staring at a tree, when it all hits me.

I'm the one who's fucked, and something way stronger and wiser than me just saved my life.

I've spent the last 4 months getting clear of a fog of alcohol and envy and pride and ego, and have finally found just the baby step beginnings of real happiness without greed. And the very first temptation I find before me, I cave so fast. I'm ready to throw it all away. I get this clear vision of the night. I go to bar. I drop lots of coin on booze. Hot girls who feed their ego getting free booze from attractive men step right up to enjoy it. Some of them even get crazy enough to make out with me. For sure, one gets crazy and boozy and wowed enough by my fake drunken intimacies to take me home.

And I do it all for the camera like a fucking show pony. I leave my wonderful little dog all alone in a strange hotel room wondering where her daddy is. I leave my sobriety behind and chuck it like it's no big deal to crawl into a bottle anytime life gets a little stressful.

And I throw away all your faith in me, everything I've said that you had the courage to believe about being your best self no matter what, about trying every day to be really superior, about giving your gift KNOWING that it will not be accepted, and finding joy in the giving.

I did everything I could to throw it right in the shitter, and the devil was laughing right behind me the whole time.

But something stopped it.

I'm looking at this tree, thinking of all this, and it hits me.

Jim Morrison fucking DIED. He didn't die gloriously. He was not a myth. He was not a Greek God. He was a drunk, and a wreck, and a waste of talent who left a few good (not great) songs, and almost certainly a bunch of kids who grew up without a father, and a legacy of other spiritually fatherless kids like me who fed on that fake myth like there was some Keatsian profundity to it.

Where is the beauty in giving up? Where is the joy in throwing it all away?

There's a great line in The Doors that catches me every time I hear it. Jim is backstage in Miami, and he begs Robbie Krieger to dose on acid just one more time with him. Robbie looks at wacked-out Jim with big sad eyes, and takes the dose, and says simply, "you say you love pain. But you run from it every chance you get."

Life is pain. But not in a bad way. Life is pain like running long distance is pain. Like lifting just a little more than you think you can is pain. Like battling over months to wrestle ideas out of your brain for a dissertation is pain.

We aren't here simply to make ourselves feel pleasure at any cost. There is pleasure, and then there is joy. Pleasure is animal and selfish. Pleasure is lazy. Pleasure is taking. It's lack of balance. Give as little as you have to, risk nothing, and hope to get out with the loot before you get caught.

It works, a little. I'll be honest. When it comes to pickup, it can work really well.

I've seen it, and I've done it.

When you are out to pickup a girl, you are only seeking pleasure. And maybe she is too. You meet, and it's like both of you send your lower selves out for the night to grab whatever you can. You call it hedonistic, like it's a good instinct to just FEEL for a night. And then in the morning, you wake up with that same strange shame you feel right after coming in your hand from masturbating, like you somehow FAILED at something.

Like you disappointed yourself. But it passes, and you try like hell to cling to the parts you should feel good about, the parts you can take PRIDE in. You did so good to get that girl. She was so hot, and she wanted YOU. Maybe you get so good at it that it happens again and again and again, and others see it, and want you to teach them. MORE pride. More food for the devil. You fatten up on it, and you start to change it in your mind. You may even call it Love.

I did.

I see it now. I can only see my own trip. I cannot judge what anyone else does any more than I can tell you what your real life is. I can only know my soul... if I'm lucky, and if I listen very very hard.

This weekend I met a wonderful woman. She told me things about myself that I just barely knew. And for a space in time, we created Love. We made Love out of nothing. And it took all of 10 hours for me to do everything in my power to fucking throw it away.

I am the Lizard King. I can do anything.

I am the Lizard King. I can't do anything.

Which is it?

I am a man. That's all. I am a traveller, passing through. It's a dark wood, and there are faint lights ahead and in the pinpricks of white in the sky. There is no path but the one you feel with your feet, like finding your way across your darkened bedroom at night.

The devil walks with me. And the angels follow too.

Tonight I fucked up. But not in the way I thought I was going to.

The angels saved me from part of myself.

I will wake up tomorrow and feel that sting of pride again. I will feel that urge to kill competitively. I will want so bad to prove myself, like it somehow matters.

I'll tell myself again, fucking again, it's for you, and it's not. It's all to feed some horrible Eric Cartman-like Id in me.

And I love Cartman, but I sure as fuck don't want to be him.

I didn't get any good footage today. I got some terrible stuff. You might be able to see just how painful it is when you know you are full of shit, and all the training and skill in the world can't cover it.

But I know this as well. There were two times, one on tape, and one not, where I just followed my instincts. Where I saw a woman who really captured my curiousity, and all I did was look and feel with her.

They were real. Maybe they'll come out. Maybe not. But it's enough to believe. I've felt it as sure as I felt Christmas morning as a kid. And that feeling is real. It is so much better than anything else, so much purer, that now I know... if I can only have that, and only a few times, that's better than something much less every single day.

I am not out to Get Girls. I am really not a pickup artist. I may not even want women in my life very much. But I think now I can simply Love them.

It's just the start, and I'm damn sure not able to express that Love, or have any idea what to do with it yet, but that Love for her is a vehicle to give Love everywhere.

Every man is my brother. Every girl is my sister. Every plant, animal, and living thing is my family.

I have only Love.

I'm not ready to die yet. Not because I'm afraid (I'm too stubbornly egotistical even now to admit any fear). But because I'm not supposed to. I'm here to fucking learn something, and if I don't do it in this round of meat puppetry, I know for sure I'll be sent right back to do it all again from scratch.

Fuck. That.

I've had a good time travelling this road, but I'd kinda like to walk ahead to the next bend and see what's there. I have a feeling it's a lot better than the fucking Maxim douchebag fantasy of a VIP table with a fucking $500 bottle of $30 vodka and drunk slightly sad and unfulfilled girls spilling out of dresses with no pockets to carrry money and tilting on heels that keep them from being able to just walk away will ever be.

I've been there. And it looks good like porn looks good... until you look into the eyes and see there's just no light there.

There is a light and it never goes out.

I'm keeping mine lit. If it means I have to protect it from the wind and storms, so be it. That light is the only thing I have.

I wish you love, wisdom, and peace on your journey, and the divine in me recognizes the divine in you.

One love,

Sean

He taught me all sorts of NLP based communication tweaks that I have since been adding to my own game.

Care to share?

And i did notice how guys just walk up to girl say something, she laughs then they say something again she laughs again, they think for couple seconds then they say something she laughs and it goes in a circle till the girl is totally into them.... WTF are they saying??!

You don't need farking NLP for that. Girls love to laugh. If you can make them laugh, they will be attracted. Pretty simple.

Yeah... i didnt mean to use nlp to make them laugh...lol. i make people laugh all the time just when im around girls i've just met nothing really funny comes to my head... its just like a blank

btw your post about love and devil was pretty deep..