A Narcissistic God: (Part One.)

A Narcissistic God: (Part One.)

THE TICK:

Anthony is a failure both personally and professionally. When I try to maintain a professional relationship with him, he makes every thing personal. When I try to maintain a PERSONAL relationship with him, he makes every thing AWFUL.

I am made to listen to his marital and extramarital WOES for hours, to the point that I must give advice that I am made to bear the blame for when he follows it. It is not as though I am simply being held accountable for an Example that *I* set, whose moral merit is measured only by its applicability to All Rational Beings (a group that I have since excluded Anthony from). Yes: it HELPS if I speak from experience, because otherwise I am accused of Hypocrisy even BEFORE the fact. But I am converted, not for the first time in my life, into a sort of unpaid psychologist.

What does he care about my OWN woes? Nothing. The Love of my Life has died this year, and he has expressed neither remorse nor apology. I do not strongly doubt it that he even KNEW that she had past away long before I did. But to cover his own tracks (for he had refused to cooperate with my EVERY attempt to save her, though he has not hesitated to take credit for her own attempts to save herself*) he has remained “mysteriously” silent on the matter of her Death, a Fate that, to his knowledge, I had spent two years of my Life making it my singular purpose to prevent at any cost to Self or Other.

*the reason underlying this tendency in Anthony is a desire to IMPRESS me, but for better or for worse this passion has burnt to its own Destruction, for Apathy instead can dispossess me of the constant stress of being held accountable to me.

There is of course the matter of competition. Whenever I expend colossal energy in completing a project, he seems to delight in bringing it to waste, though he masks this delight in “righteous indignation.” (May the record show that, UNLIKE Aldous Huxley, I employ this term in quotation marks not as an attack upon the Emotion Itself, of course, but upon those who PRETEND towards it and abuse it, often both at once.) If we both agree to write a screenplay and I write the first four acts (Seventy Pages, to be precise about this case) in two days, I am not REWARDED for my drive and commitment, but ACCUSED of “taking over”. When I SHARE GRACIOUSLY with him my [DEEPLY personal and revealing] memoirs, which took weeks of research into my Karmic Past in order to compile, I am immediately expected to read a short poem that he wrote about his neurotic ex-girlfriend. Before I even check my e-mail, he calls my house phone, not simply DEMANDING that I read the inconsequential tripe he sent, but BERATING me for not having all ready done so!

Keep in mind: I WOULD have all ready done so had he honoured a previous arrangement that he would update my Inbox daily with progress reports about our Project. But without any formal notice he canceled this arrangement, yet still seems to feel ENTITLED to my attentiveness. He makes no hesitation to demonstrate his envy for both my punctuality and my prolific nature, for when he RANDOMLY produces a TINY piece of text, (without either Professional Import nor Personal Depth) eager to impress me for fear of the consequences of his own foolishness, he plays the part of David taking on Goliath, bewailing the “Injustice” of the fact that I EXPECT him to read my memoirs.

I do not expect him to read them. He made it clear that he does not believe in Reincarnation. He does not believe in Psychics. He does not seem even to believe in Karma. (Lucky for him.) And when I tell him that Nicole believes in all these things, he dismisses this as an other Female Tendency, which, by the nature of its being-Female, is negligible in Male Conversation.

At the root of it is of course a failure to take responsibility for one’s own actions. Did I DEMAND that he read my memoirs? No. So why does he ACCUSE me of demanding? It is HE that is DEMANDING that I read his poetry, and IN THEORY this is no great request next to my own, except that in REALITY his EXPECTATION that I do so requires not ONLY that I check my e-mail ROUTINELY, remaining available and dispensable* within TWENTY-FOUR HOURS of the post. I must all so put up, during the DURATION of this routine, with no information whatsoever MOST of the time, just for the HOPE that every once in a while I will be graced with the presence of a short ejaculation about his Traumatized Tinder Girlfriend. And why should that be so URGENT that it would take precedence over my other affairs? Clearly: because he craves my APPROVAL for FEAR that he will have to bite his own bullet when his habitually compulsive decision-making ruins all of his worldly plans. If Approval is “won” (by coercive harassment if necessary and by manipulation inevitably) early on, then he need take NO fall for the failure, for *I* will have condoned it!!

*This I shall expound upon below.

I mentioned being “dispensable”. As though all of the Above were not enough, there is the matter of Keeping an Appointment. Most people who are flaky will at least apologize and make an attempt to reschedule as a means of saving face. Anthony is one of two people I know who do not do this. He might schedule a meeting a week in advance, yet upon the day of the meeting I discover, after making SEVERAL phone calls, if Memory Serves, (for such Memories are either lost in Angst or Repressed in Trauma) that it is the day of his youngest brother’s birthday. Clearly, one of several things happened:

a.   He forgot his own brother’s birthday when he made those plans.

a.   He forgot he made those plans, but upon being reminded he did not care.

b.   He remembered having made those plans, but he still did not care enough to tell me.

b.   He deliberately made those plans to coincide with a day when he would have had the opportunity to flake. Because:

a.   He wanted an “easy out” free of accountability, should he come to prefer his family’s company to mine.

b.   He intended to stand me up, deliberately, just to spite me.

The List of Sins goes on. When he misses a deadline that he sets for himself, he takes his anger out on me. If I am kind to him, then he calls my masculinity into question, as well as my intentions, even though the worst of ulterior motives that he might produce as an accusation are in fact my DUTIES as a PRODUCER and COLLABORATOR, beyond which I never agreed to any other sort of sentimental attachment, but was of course coerced into it by force of illusory necessity. If I am UNKIND to him, he calls my Sanity into question, as well as his own Safety.

This is the man who threatens to crash the car under a highway bridge when he is “angered” by me. The anger is foretold by his dreams wherein he slaughters black people with machine guns. I appear within these dreams, as well. Naturally.

There is no in-between for Anthony. Either I am “too nice” or “dangerous”. His God neither protects the meek (except when it is him) or rewards the Bold (except when it is him behind the wheel). His God leaves it up to ANTHONY to house the meek rape victim who CONVENIENTLY happens to be a nymphomaniac girlfriend of his. His God puts ANTHONY in charge of sorting out Justice and assessing the distinction between TRUE masculinity and patriarchy, such as when Anthony calls my house repeatedly DEMANDING that I continue to house Micaiah, after I’ve all ready done so for the better part of a fortnight (two weeks) and Anthony, who has room for his nymphomaniac girlfriend, has no room to take in Micaiah for even one night. Is the inconvenience really his? Let’s not pretend that Anthony is not all ready sharing a bed with her. But at either rate, imagine the nerve he has to inconvenience ME. Some narcissist *I* must be to refuse!!

I’ve said there is no in-between with Anthony. Yet it is I that is made to look like the extremist. It is all ways, by his account, that *I* am too nice (falsely) or too dangerous (ridiculously). But this is only the measure of his own reaction to me. In truth, there is ALL ways a medium where I am concerned. I meet people halfway. They simply have to HOLD UP THEIR HALF. To Anthony’s mind, if he is running late and I bail to eat dinner, I am selfish. Never does it occur to him, apparently, that being PUNCTUAL is an end in and of itself, and failure to do so, no matter how grandiose the prospective rewards, takes precedence over the gamble. I am totally capable of remaining level-headed when all goes according to plan. If I MUST deal with insubordination, betrayal, and incompetence, then the very  nature of the SITUATION THAT HE HAS CREATED requires me to RESPOND, perhaps even to REACT. The simple act of HOLDING HIM ACCOUNTABLE is all ways, to Anthony’s mind, one of two extremes: a victory over me, or a loss. Either I am kind and he triumphs over me as the Aggressive Alpha Male, or I am unkind and he pretends towards meekness in Christianity.

And none of this is NEARLY as bad as Kresten Taylor.

THE TAPEWORM:

Most known parasites will drain your energy from OUTSIDE of you, but there are those rare breeds who* will eat you from the INSIDE.

*MicroSoft Word insists that I change “who” to “that”, but only because it does not recognize that some “people” are all so “breeds” of parasite.

Kresten Taylor leads a life perpetually lived at the expense of others. He perpetuates this by blaming his Hosts for their own “dependency” upon others, even when those same people who GRACIOUSLY Accommodate him despite his BLATANT narcissism do not themselves suffer from the same narcissism, but rather from BASIC HUMAN NEED.

Kresten is perpetually at war with the Other. Every victim that he has he turns into a victory. He claims emotions as though they were thrones. He has no ORDINARY human emotions, but only his envy and his boredom. The remaining emotions are mere acts used to sustain his lifestyle. And it all ways comes at the expense of others.

Tell me this, reader:

A young, virginal woman meets a young, virginal man in a Parking Garage at her University one Friday Night in February of 2015. They do not know one an other; he does not even attend her school. Within a month they are texting one an other about every thing imaginable. He has fallen in love.

Would a loving, just God not desire for them to consummate this love? Would He not render it mutual, that they might dispossess each other of their mutual celibacy? Is this not in fact the RATIONAL and SECULAR basis for the Christian Subversion of Premarital Sex, and if millennial college culture ever comes CLOSE to that Christian Ideal, would this not have been the best example?

As it turns out, such plans went awry. Because the young man all so had a parasitic “friend”, of five years, who was a drug addict. Sponsoring the parasite de facto, (for neither of them would dare to admit to it de jure) the virgin male invited his best friend to start a BAND with him. And knowing the love for Music that possesses the heart of his Light of Love, the virgin would not hesitate to invite her to their concert.

Within four days of meeting, Kresten Taylor and Alanna McLeod were witnessed by me, holding hands and strolling through my neighbourhood in rapture. Within the following month, they had sex five times. They all so took cocaine.

When I saw Alanna again, she was again a drug user, no longer a Virgin, and she was obsessed with a narcissist who had even neglected her on her own birthday. (For the record: I am sympathetic to birthdays. Hence I all ways plan my business meetings AROUND them, not DURING them.) His narcissistic tendencies had compelled her to dissolve their partnership, though it did not dispossess her of his influence. She insisted that she had no sexual attachment to him that he had stolen from me, even though I would have been more qualified to accommodate such a human attachment. In fact: she was now ASEXUAL, in part, of course (though I would come only later to deduce this, not having known the entire extent of their drug habits) owing to vasoconstriction from Cocaine use. The other part was the fact that she never reached orgasm under his supervision.

She was all so suicidal again. And unbeknownst to me: she blamed me for the break-up, though she struggled to admit it in any thing more than passive aggressive hints. This was because Kresten, claiming to feel GUILTY towards me, chose to cope with his guilt by IGNORING her, routinely. There is apparently no FUN in spending time with your cheap fuck* when you have to feel GUILTY about it. Ironically, he managed to aggravate the CAUSE for guilt by abusing the person whom I loved most, to the point that her Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome, coupled with the RAPE (for that is what college girls usually call sex under the influence of the notorious “aphrodisiac” cocaine) had aggravated her Suicidal Ideations, and even Tendencies. By FEIGNING Guilt, he had driven a wedge between me and my Love, for he implied by so doing that I WANTED her to suffer, and that leading her to suffer was a service of atonement to me.

*Alanna would have blamed ME for calling her that, precluding the possibility that I was speaking on behalf of someone I knew personally who betrayed me during one of my sentimental lapses in judgment. This sentimentality will account for the contradiction of knowing him and being betrayed by him nonetheless.

Once I had proven to her that I in fact DID hold her interests as my own, that “guilt” had mysteriously run its course. No longer willing to atone, and pretending himself blameless, the Tapeworm adopted ANGER as his modus operandi. No longer justified in my anger, ostensibly, I justified his own anger in self-defense. So Spite became a throne that the Conqueror Worm seized. When presented with the opportunity to re-form the band, with Alanna as the Band Leader, (for this was her one TRUE Heart’s Ambition) knowing that he had the opportunity to atone with me, for I had set aside my pride in making this a possibility, he said, unforgettably: “Why do I owe YOU music?” Knowing that personal responsibility mattered to me, he did not hesitate to tell me that I have “no responsibility for [my]self”. I stammered, in text, to mention BLAMELESSNESS – that I had remained not only ACCOUNTABLE but BLAMELESS, for I had served Alanna with ardour, and any verbal abuse that she might have accrued from me was justified by her OWN disrespect towards me (and fell under her own Dictate of Telling her the Truth, even if it meant Hurting Her). It was KRESTEN who had PRETENDED towards Blamelessness when, even at this very moment, he BETRAYED BOTH ME AND HER for a SECOND TIME. Having been once betrayed by him, I had not only the power but the RESPONSIBILITY to hold him accountable to her Needs in the manner that I would have held MYSELF accountable, and that I did, within the limits of the station assigned to me. I held myself accountable to my side of the story: the ONLY side, the Victim’s Side, and I broke with the unwritten pact of Secrecy only AFTER I heard that HIS side of the story was already infecting the ears of my former friends. Yet my account was dismissed as though it were SLANDER! He FAILED to provide for Alanna’s needs, on my watch, and he owed it to the BOTH of us that he atone, for that was WHAT HER LIFE DEPENDED ON, and HE HAD ENDANGERED IT. Music was not what he owed to us. Music did not BELONG to him. Music simply accommodated him at the expense of other people. Music was God’s Nectar, and SHE NEEDED IT TO HEAL. So naturally I made no attempt to point all this out to him. Even defending myself became pointless to a sociopath who did not see the IMMINENT DANGER TO MY LOVE, and to HIS LOVER, as a sufficient motivator.

Alanna had no choice but to confess that she had sinned. But even in admitting to a love for me that she had kept hidden for an entire year, she could not bear to see me, for her guilt – her TRUE guilt – was too great. I could not cast doubt upon this guilt. I knew it. It had manifested in displays of aggression that amounted to more than the narcissistic apathy nor the pragmatic anger that Kresten displayed. She felt Bad. And I could feel it in her presence. In his presence, I felt nothing but my own disgust. Neither did she mirror any guilt of MINE. INSIDE, I felt blameless. It was outside of me that I felt pain. The only pain that ate away at me from WITHIN was the betrayal of the Tapeworm.

A year apart did little good for us. Alanna finally caved in. She followed Kresten’s suit. She tried to kill the guilt inside herself: to abort it, so to speak. But she could not do what he did. Because he never DID it. He never FELT guilt. Only she did. He made it look so easy. Just forgive yourself! Jesus forgives you. And if Dmytri does not pardon you, he is not Jesus! (As though pardon and forgiveness were one and the same. I forgave her by default. But I could never pretend she had not wronged.)

Anthony told me earlier this year that she was talking to Kresten again. She broke her promise to me. I thought little of it. I imagined that she had her reasons. But I had to know for certain. So I contacted her. Shortly thereafter she threatened to sue me for “stalking”. When I called her bluff, she called the cops on me. Even the officers found it quite laughable. They tried to hide it well. But I know cops. These guys saw through it. She once told me that she did not care that “people” (Kresten and Anthony) thought little of me since I did not have a job or car. Now, Officer So-and-so read to me her report. Apparently I was “stalking” her without either a vehicle or reported source of income. Of course: I had a job at the time. But I had hardly the funds to take the Coaster down to wherever she lived, an address that I never got, though Kresten Did. But maybe she omitted the detail about the job. I don’t recall. All I recall is how transparent (and psychotic an appeal to status) was her attempt to make me Look Bad. It was childish. Even child-like. She was just a child.

She died later that year. I found her GoFundMe account months after her suicide. It was operated by her Mother. No one had told me. What I DO remember is this: that Anthony went to a Poker Night, up in TEMECULA, with his former room-mate, Mike Johnston. Kresten was in attendance at this function. He was with his new girlfriend. So much for mourning the loss of his previous one. But then: perhaps it was this very same relationship that caused Alanna to spiral out in Suicidal Jealousy, for a second time in her life, and only after she had severed ties with all her old and loyal friends. Oddly enough, guilt did not cause Kresten to IGNORE his new belle in the manner that he treated his old one. He was actually SEEN with her, and most likely on a regular basis. Perhaps his only reason for even hooking UP with Alanna was to get back at me for the fact that, five years ago, I dated Alexandra. Back then, he had had a whole MONTH in which time to make his feelings known. He, Alexandra, and I hung out regularly after school. And before then, he had known her for a YEAR. But instead he told me he USED to have a crush on her. And having KNOWN that this was once the case, for I knew Ally well and she knew Kresten even better, I supposed that he tried to tell me he’d moved on.

He never moved on. When I came to him and Tony, after she broke up with me, asking for help, he was the first person to threaten to call the Police on me. And certainly not the last.

I ask you THIS, reader:

Does a Just God desire this to be my Fate?

Is it worth the loss of a CHILD?

Dm.A.A.