The Love Life of a Guerrilla Filmmanic called Linwood Storm [NSFW]

'Lowlife Love'

“Quite honestly, most women bore me. If they smoke, I’m turned off. If they drink, I’m outta there. If they’re stupid, I’m bored. If they’re mean, I’m bored. If they’re trying to use me, I’m outta there. If they don’t work out, not interested. ― Henry Rollins

I’ve had many people, typically, fellow men, inquire about my dating experiences since I’ve become more open about my lifestyle as I do hold strong opinions about how I maneuver through the sea of billions of women, as an intelligent Black man who holds himself in high esteem and who is selfishly focused on his own progression throughout life. While I’m not going to be completely detailed about every single thing that has transpired, I am going to cover a modest timeline of events up until my current age of twenty-seven in order to give insight into my current mindset so that I might help others of my gender in this department. I’m not concerned with being referred to as a misogynist or an “asshole”, as I’ve been called that by the same women who usually take a romantic interest in me. I’ve learned to hold my ground, educate, and correct, if need be, which seems to be a lost art in today’s modern society of men.

Prior to their divorce quite sometime after I had already entered adulthood, my father and mother were married for over a couple of decades. Personally, the institution of marriage never interested me and in the only two instances that I had brought the possibility of it up, the context was me attempting to keep the women that I was in long-term relationships with from leaving. Luckily, I was unsuccessful, especially at such young ages when I hadn’t found myself yet. At eighteen, my first serious romantic relationship was with an older woman, “K”, who is twenty years my senior. While the sexual chemistry was perfect, there was a lot of turmoil due to my emotional immaturity and her mental instability. The on-and-off relationship lasted for four years until the final words that I had spoken to her were “I’ve outgrown you” during a final quarrel, however, I don’t hold any animosity due to the skills that I had learned in several areas, which helped me steer clear of manipulation tactics that many men stumble through or fail. I learned to appreciate the fact that going through hell molded my personality in the sense of stoicism.

My next long-term relationship was intertwined with the previous and grew during the breaks that were taken, which allowed me to transfer knowledge to it. She was a couple of years younger, conservative, well-educated, and viewed me as someone on a path to greatness. We became official when the relationship with the older woman “K” no longer was and admittedly, she led it because her personality was a reflection of her mother “who wore the pants” in her own marriage. I began to draw a firm line when “M” dictate my choice of clothing and criticized a Wu-Tang t-shirt that I was wearing, which she “thanked” was underneath a zipped-up jacket. Ultimately, because she did want me to propose and I decided to focus on my business, it did not work out. I was heartbroken to find out that she had cheated on me with a man she would marry roughly five years later, but what opened my eyes was a message she had sent me via Skype while I was overseas in the Philippines in bed with three women. “M”, as I’ll now refer to her as, sent me several texts after the breakup, but this particular one felt specifically timed, as this travel was publicly displayed on social media.

Seeing my success, thanks to the businesses that I had started while we were together, brought her back and I had lost all respect for her knowing that she was engaged, so I ignored her pursuit of me. The startling realization that I should have been prioritizing my life allowed for more focus and personal growth. I wrote a list of requirements that a significant other would have to meet in order for her to have a chance in hell to be in a monogamous relationship with me and a list of red flags with some that would disqualify her. This helped me vet a lot of “toxic” candidates. I may have casual flings with a handful that are fun and not obnoxious to be around, but nothing further would be offered. Ironically, the women that I give the least amount of attention to or couldn’t care less about, stick or have stuck by me the longest. Surprisingly, most are very class and attractive women who have no clue regarding what I do for a living. I believe that not knowing I’m a part of the upper-class gives them a sense of dominance because I’ve been told by a few women that I intimidate them with everything that I’ve done and am doing. Dumbing myself down seems to yield the best results in the states unless you’re trying to attract a woman seeking to become a wife. A decision that I consider to be counterproductive as I simply don’t see the appeal unless it’s for a religious purpose.

A man, especially one who has a great deal to lose, does not benefit from the contract of marriage and I’ve debated this with several women, including one who “proposed” (Jokingly, I hope) to me. The fear of dying alone is a woman’s and it is projected onto men.

I rarely meet a married man who has suggested that I follow in their footsteps. Even my father, who did re-marry, after telling me to never do so. A couple of years back while I was in a relationship, I once told a much older married male in my family that I had planned to retire in a certain country. He stated that the country that I had mentioned is a wonderful place to retire… “for a single male”. He knew that I was in a year-long relationship as well and that was his way of warning me. I’ve already gone over the relationship that I had with “J”, who I genuinely thank for my decision to no longer date White American women or single mothers, so I won’t be reiterating what occurred during it, but she did reaffirm why my priorities take center stage, despite insufferable whining. “J” mirrored me in hopes of finding happiness and blamed me when she could not. One of my uncles once said that “women are never happy” and I truly believe him. A cornucopia of babies is being born and raised in horrifyingly undesirable conditions by women with psychological issues that require medication as well as therapy. No accountability is being taken for their choice to sleep with men that don’t wish to have a family and lack goals in life that would afford a stable environment in which to raise a generation of children. This brings me back to “M”…

“M” is married, has a child, and husband to provide for them. I cannot fault her choice because it doesn’t affect the rest of society in a harmful manner. The men and women who lack fathers that are present in their lives generally do. I told “J” after our breakup that she was repeating the same transgenerational cycle of abuse that’s responsible for her trauma and my words fell on deaf ears. We, as men, cannot accept women as they are if they pose a threat to our legacy and the mental health of our children. I had pregnancy scares with both “M” and “J”. I didn’t fear making it work with the former, but I dreaded having to fight for the right to see my child with the latter and protecting him or her after seeing how she treated her own son. According to my father, my mother would threaten to take their children in a divorce if she did not get her way. Apparently, as we grew older, it became the house that we had owned in North Carolina, and when that wouldn’t work, she would just say that she was leaving. Eventually what pushed my father toward divorcing her was having the police called on him. He realized that his freedom was in jeopardy, divorced her, paid lifetime alimony based on his income until reaching an agreement to pay a final settlement under the guise of being fired and not knowing when he would find a new job.

Please don’t ask me why he would get remarried a couple of years later after three months of dating another woman… My grandmother is schizophrenic and my mother is quite possibly bipolar, so the validation or security of a woman may very well stem from childhood trauma. I haven’t spoken to my mother in roughly two years and I honestly never had a close relationship with her. Perhaps that lowered my risk of becoming dangerously attached to toxicity or it could be my love of studying psychology. There are just too many factors as to why I can’t “slip up” with the wrong one. I’m not saying that I haven’t made any mistakes. I recently “survived” using the calendar method three times with the last being two days before her ovulation days. Hence why semen retention and transmuting that energy into areas other than sex has held my attention for so long. I am young, very attractive, and charming with a plethora of options. I need to be in complete control of what I do with my “little head”.

Perhaps having a dominant nature, confident outlook, and abundance mentality contribute to my personality within relationships, however, I’ve never been the type to get jealous. Some might even go as far as to say I exhibit traits of a voyeur and exhibitionist. I recall watching a short video clip of a woman, who I was casual with, give oral to her “best friend” as I had sex with her from behind. For me, I did so for an extra dopamine rush that would be similar to viewing porn online, but she subconsciously placed me above him as the act displayed primal traits. Another memory had me answer the phone of a young lady whose territorial “prospect” had been calling her for a couple of hours while she and I were having sex. We had a good laugh as he became furious and degraded her before threatening my life through text without knowing where we lived or who I was. What one finds cruel, I find a wake-up call for a fellow man.

“You know, you are the neediest man I have ever dated. But at the same time, you are also the least jealous man I have ever dated. I mean, I could literally be hanging on some random guy’s arm and you would never think it’s sexual. You’d just come up to me and be like, “Hey, babe. What the hell are you doing? I need your help. I can’t remember anybody’s name here. Let’s go.” — Marie (Played by Zendaya) in Malcom & Marie

I generally do not care enough concerning other men or women that I know of because I know my value after having it tested many times throughout my life. I’m no stranger to being polyamorous, but I have no preference for it or monogamy if the right person/people are involved with either. If I don’t like the conditions of the arrangement that I’m a part of and it’s been discussed to no avail, I simply leave without hesitation. If a significant other’s behavior has changed and I have a bad gut feeling about it, I trust my intuition because my suspicions always prove to be reasonable. I don’t argue back and forth or try to reason with absurd mind games. The more time I spend fighting, the less time I have to dedicate myself to fruitful practices. When putting in effort becomes a chore, I withhold from investing further in a woman. A sinking ship cannot be saved with love and hope. It is also foolish to try and patch up every hole when swimming to another in the sea is a feasible alternative.

If she smokes cigarettes, occasionally gets drunk, has any children, is incredibly negative, has or ever had an OnlyFans/Chaturbate/etc. account, alarmingly disrespects men, spews insults when she doesn’t get her away, hates exercising, lays a single hand on me, constantly lies, can’t cook, doesn’t appreciate silence, lacks any hobbies of her own, doesn’t show respect for my people, isn’t consistent with her behavior, unclean, or doesn’t care about satisfying me in the bedroom (Yes, it goes both ways), then it will not work out as anything but possibly a good time now and then. We need to raise our standards as men for the sake of our civilization’s future instead of haphazardly chasing a nut, like Conker the Squirrel.

Although I have mentioned race in certain sections of this blog entry, I’ll be diving deeper into my thoughts concerning interracial relationships, my preference for Black women, and why culture matters a tad bit more than the ethnic background of the parties involved in a follow-up to the sixth episode of season one’s ‘Black Grindhouse’ titled ‘The Reality Of Interracial Dating and Media Representation Of It’. As a preview, I will say that no bi-racial child should be used as a hashtag such as #MixedBabyBoy or be brought up in a claim of racism by proxy. There is nothing wrong with being seen as exotic, but fetishization is a whole ‘nother ballpark. The first time that I had to explain to a white woman that she could not use the word “nappy” in order to refer to our hair, it felt like pulling teeth when a simple history lesson should have sufficed instead of hearing an argument about hearing the term used by others. I’ve been called a nigger by two young white women who I’ve had relations with and dismissed in the past. I could go on, but it’s safe to say that I strongly believe American white women should not be a Black man’s first choice when choosing a partner to settle down and potentially mate with. With that being said, men, in general, benefit from exploiting the heavy influence of feminism and movement to be sexually liberated in our society in regard to their promiscuity. Contrary to the popular belief, I’ve only been in committed relationships with two White women, “K” and “J”.

I’ve been involved with Hispanic, Asian, and Black women (with cultural ties to Africa), in monogamous relationships the most. They tend to value my masculinity, assertiveness, and how I place importance on family structure as traditional roles were taught to them from a young age. Understandably, we have a desire to be with our own though, and more often than not, that’s what happens. My friends and siblings noted that the man “M” left me for was a Mexican version of me at the time, making the transition “monkey branching” easier for her. What single white mothers with Black children don’t understand is that “once they go ‘Black’, they can’t go back” in the dating world. They are seen by their kind as “damaged goods” and unfortunately, there are Black men who will embrace them because they can’t attract their own. Thus creating more dysfunction, confusion, and division among our race. Not to mention the higher risk of false allegations being taken a lot more seriously to the point of a witch hunt. One of the most memorable scenes in Melvin Van Peebles’ (Rest in Power) film ‘Watermelon Man’ is when the protagonist, Jeff Gerber, who’s a white man that is transformed into a Black man, played by the Black actor/Stand-Up Comedian, Godfrey Cambridge, in whiteface spurns the advances of a white female secretary obsessed with Black men and leaves her apartment…

She yells “rape” at the top of her lungs outside of her window as he cheerfully walks off. As hilarious as it may seem, many men, especially Black men, have been there. We have been wrongfully imprisoned based on a dream, had ‘Black Wall Street’ burned down by an angry mob, and brutalized until the point of unrecognition for the lie of wolf-whistling at a white woman. Do not get me started on George Stinney, who was a fourteen-year-old child, falsely convicted and executed for rape without evidence in some eight days. It hasn’t even been a century since all of these examples happened.

I encourage men to film their sexual encounters in case there are ever any charges or lawsuits brought up against them. This can legally be done in one-party states without the consent of the other party and if she (or he) doesn’t want to be filmed, I suggest not going through in order to avoid an embarrassing ordeal that might follow your career. Whether Nate Parker is guilty or not, he is a prime example of having your sexual past come back to haunt you at the height of your professional journey. Store your texts and emails in a folder dedicated to the partner, especially those confirming consensual sex took place, and record phone calls using the phone app Cube ACR.

Xzibit, one of my top five Hip-Hop and Rap artists once said in a song, and I quote:

“I insist that we fuckin’ on videotape Just in case a bitch lose face and try and call rape.” – Xzibit on “Fuckin’ You Right”

Do not be afraid of protecting your freedom.

To close this editorial on a lighter note, a colleague’s fiancée asked me if my johnson is “big enough” to be making the demands and taking the number of security measures that I do with the women in my life…

It most certainly is.