The Relational Tower
I sit up on high in my Relational Tower. I can see so much from this throne.
I look to the north and see the golden and shimmering lines which extend from me to my loyal subjects across the land. I see my supporters, my followers and my coterie going about their daily lives but all the while connected to me. They feel such privilege to be linked to me, their liege and I feed on that sense of privilege and the admiration and that adoration which is entwined around it.
I look to the south and see yet more lines of sparkling gold which link between me and my most devout lieutenants. From my vantage point I can signal to them and they will obey, carrying out my commands, executing my diktats and honouring my instructions. It is a source of great comfort to gaze in their direction and observe their industry on my behalf.
I look to the east and frown at the assembled legions which march towards me. The malcontents, the rejected, the fools and the idiots, all those who have taken up against me and now march in the expectation that they will unseat me. Yet further lines span out from me to these traitors. Dark purple lines, nearly invisible against the glowering firmament, these multitudinous lines which have those transgressors permanently attached to me and through which I pull, twist and yank. They moan, they wail and they lament their fate but there is no hope for any other for these are those who bear the stain of betrayal, the putrid stench of sedition emanates from their shambling frames. Let them come, let them advance towards me and I shall watch them as they break against my tower, like waves against the rocks as they are sent scattering and dissipating into so much spray. I watch them from afar, sometimes commanding my lieutenants to enter the fray to cajole and direct, a myriad of gold and purple shimmering and glinting as the lines combine. From time to time the purple becomes golden as by my most glorious bounty I bestow the wondrous joy upon the select few.
I look to the west and there I see you. You shine with such glory, the golden line between you and I fizzing with effervescence. A thick line which coils about your wrists, torso and throat, sending that precious essence towards me. There are days when that connection will dim to the purple of guilt, the thick line becoming stretched and thinned, but never ever breaking. I watch you as you journey towards me, face upturned, eyes rapturous, hands outstretched as the light burns brighter and those who are less than me would struggle to gaze upon you, but I always will. Though I may turn my face away from you from time to time, my dark eyes will always look for you.
I watch you all as you journey towards me, the supporters, the lieutenants, the outcasts and you. I can see it all from this elevated position as I organise, direct and orchestrate. I know what you want. I know what you all want, each and every one of you.
I am attached to you all, you are bound to me, some tighter than others, some with those chains which bite and burn, others who raise no objection to their silken bondage, but all are bound to me. I made it so. I wanted that. I am connected to so many of you. I have a relationship with each and every one. Our relational proximity varies from stranger to intimate partner, from minion to inner circle friend, from colleague to family member and so on. Relationships. I have them by the hundred and create more each day, reaching out with my tendrils of gold and purple in order to remain exactly where I want to be – at the centre in my tower.
I know why you all head towards me. You want to enter this tower and thus gain admittance to me. You wish to unlock the vast gate and pass through the imposing portal to enable you to climb the winding stone steps, each time passing without hindrance or complication through the many doors and gates which guard my inner sanctum.
I know you want to enter my inner sanctum.
Some of you want to cradle what you find there. Some of you wish to possess what your eyes will rest upon. Some of you wish to claim a portion for yourselves and be forever imbued with its effects. Some of you wish to release what is in this inner sanctum. Some of you wish to understand what lies there. Some of you wish to destroy what is revealed.
Whatever it might be, the hundreds of relationships which I have, no matter how long, how strong and how tightly bound or otherwise these may be all seek to enter my Relational Tower and penetrate the inner sanctum.
This cannot happen.
I made this tower. I built it high. I built the walls deep and thick, constructed from the stones of denial and the slabs of deflection all held in place with the mortar of fuel. I fashioned the thick timbers of the door from projection, the timber bolted together through triangulation and the lock created from a steely gaze and iron resolve. The heavy bar that is set against it arose from the blame-shifting. I have set many traps and pitfalls within this tower in order to prevent anybody reaching the inner sanctum. The stone steps are smeared with vitriol, the walls spiked with character assassination, cauldrons wait to pour their heated fury onto you and cast you in deep pits of despair. The stone is so thick that there is only ever silence here, it as if the very walls are giving you a cold and baleful stare. Everything that I have learned will be used to impede your progress, hamper and hinder you so you may not ever reach that inner sanctum.
I know you all want to go there. I know you want to reach deep inside of me, into my inner sanctum but I must not allow it. I dare not. I cannot admit anybody. Ever.
I built this tower high. I built it thick. I made it impenetrable.
I built it to keep you out.
I built it to keep me in.
We are always connected but so long as I remain in my Relational Tower in such spending isolation then my inner sanctum remains preserved and so do I.
42 thoughts on “The Relational Tower”
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I’m obliged
I knew I won’t get an answer as usually 🙁
Gold.
One of us wants to just be there and admire it and guard it with You…without sneaking stealing etc… Whats the colour string between You and me dear G?xxx
What do you think it is Maddie?
No idea. You tell me…
I am sure you can work it out.
Yes. My tower is reinforced with the strongest of concrete. It is masked by the guise of gum, schoolhouse glue and tape. It presents the illusion of gaining entrance quite readily, but then one meets the real barrier. Yours is more chilling. I picture barbed wire laced with poison and bear traps.
Often the traps are not as obvious as that 1Jaded.
Oh and HG it was made in Stoke but they came from Widnes. So yes I am of English decent and not counting my Narcimum I love all things English. This is why I will be triangulatiing my husband and Chris Martin in Chicago shortly. I will use everything you taught me about love bombing and spill a drink on him to see what he does. If u can’t beat em, join em.
Have fun in Chicago!
I don’t think hockeytown wants to hear that from you..lol Thanks though, I will.
There are breaches in that tower. Invisible, but there.
I feel a battle between power, saddness and romanticism In this post HG.
I breeched the inner sanctum, and for that I was thusly banished. Not for always, but just far enough out of reach to touch in the same way again. So, there I stand. Looking upward to that stony tower with tear filled eyes. Through the darkness, Claiming and cursing the rain for fault.
How do you know you breached the inner sanctum?
Clarification, his, not yours. The answer, because I know, as I know many things people think I do not know. Because I am aware of things that people, often try to keep hidden. Just because one does not disclose, does to mean one is not aware. He knows I know. Hence, the tempo changes to our dance.
As you inferred, we cannot get too close. There is consquences for such. For me, I would love someone to breach my inner sanctum and see me, love me, accept me as the same. I fear, it is only ever meant to go One direction. Towards others and away from me. You did prewarn me long before that Hoover that he would not accept who and what he is. Nor would be accept me knowing such and allowing him to be as he is. He needs the illusion to live and to be accepted. What he is, for him, cannot be loved or accepted.
I concede, you were correct in YOUR advisement to me…Narcissists, do not want our acceptance of them, they want us obliviously unaware in our admiration and adoration. With the exception of you HG here in your social media world, where you happily accept such for those knowing what you are.
But, what if the real world. What if your girlfriend, Kim, is it? Found out what you are and vowed the same for you? Would you feel obliged to discard her regardless. Deeming fuel then to become diminished. Based On What you told me to be fact?
Thank you in advance.
I doubt she would find out but I accept that one cannot totally discount the fact that it might happen. Would she then vow the same for me? I find that even more unlikely, but assuming she did, I would only feel the need to discard if the provision of fuel was not what it should be. Her state of knowledge may impact on that and that impact may diminish or potentially it could increase the provision of fuel. It is the fuel that matters not the knowledge, although from what others have detailed they found that once they knew what they were dealing with they adjusted the provision of fuel in a downward direction.
I cannot recall but I would assume that she must not live with you, as that would lend to her being informed , even Moreso. I assume she must not question your behaviour or whereabouts, or is simply not interested to know or in denial? As long as your attention and affection does not wane towards her, which is dependent on hers not waning toward you foremost.
Mine did not diminish in my knowing, as I had inklings for quit some time things about him were amiss. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.
I wonder, if he is midrange and possibly not aware of what he is, then it was simply my knowing and suggesting what he is wounded him as being critical and false. Or his inability to handle negative fuel….guess I will never truly know.
Thank you so much HG for your answer.
I do not live with her no. She is interested but I have her where I want her and therefore she has no need to question me. You are welcome.
No need to question, qu’est -ce que c’est?
I wouldn’t know how not to question, it is innately part of me. I can temper it at times, but the need to know is a driving force for me.
Cue the Stones song…Under my Thumb( did you enjoy LaRoux version of that song HG?.which is one of my faves , then Paint it Black and Beast of Burden, Sympathy for the Devil, better change songs up, I see a theme occurring…add…Wild Horses and Angie….too many to mention..
Well if you have her where you want her, then I doubt anything adverse will occur prior to a cessation in fuel. I do hope that she might be the one for you, amidst all the harridans so and charlatans that beseech your attention and betray you.(loosely translated from. Your words)
Beauty and the Beast. 2mpathetic can be Mrs Potts, a boiling kettle is all the rage. Suits you to a tea. 😏
Miss stress,
I act like Mrs. Potts but I look like Fifi the feather duster, oh no lumiere I have been burned by you before. Can’t you just see HG yelling IT IS FORBIDDEN!! Me and u are gonna get it, he will never answer our questions now. Oh well, at least you and I can sit in the box together waiting to be played with. You would be good company!
Oh ye of little faith.
Back in the box now.
Oh nO, I meant only to the tea cups and tea reference you had previously discussed, the boiling kettle was for HG.
Ha ha, I am used to such. It will be nice to have company, no more playing by or with myself, remove sexual reference lol
Btw, is the box an adult size toy chest/ tickle trunk? I have loads of dress up costumes 2mpathetic, you can have my French maid one for Fifi and I will don mY Geisha girl costume, what say you HG. Can we come out and play now?
My ex Mn husband, also enjoyed role play and dress up and plus I do and dressed up every year for twelve years with my daughter on Halloween, some costumes are not trick or treat friendly. Imagination and fantasy can be fun. Mind you when someone prefers you to be or look like someone else then it goes to far and the fun is ended.
HG, Malignant narcissists can they be of a lesser cadre? I know you do not condone physical violence. His mask slipped continually.
Lesser is a school not a cadre. No, the malign nature stems from the higher function and the energy and drive to punish which a lesser does not possess. The lesser uses physical violence more often owing to the lack of control, though that is not to say that mid-range and greater will not use physical violence, but less so as a whole and as you identify I do not.
Of course, I am always confusing school and cadres. Yes my ex husband definately was malign. He didn’t have a brilliant mind such as yourself to strategize in such a way that his end result would have benefitted him, not me. He underestimated me, he was not the first, nor will he be the last. Good. And kind people. Does not equate to unaware and unintelligent.
MS,
I enjoy your posts and your overall blog personality. I wish we could IM here sometimes. Although the powers that be (HG) would not allow this. And I am an obedient sheep.
Sexual reference was funny.
The box. I could make that sexual too. Although Mr. Dress up probably would not like it. (HG will think that’s about him. Canadian TV HG) I Crack up every year at Halloween. I seen a slutty chicken costume last year..bagock! The dress up possibilities are endless. It would definitely lose its fun if someone wanted you to be someone else. I’m all for “dress up” and pretend but I want them to enjoy me.
Physical violence…my forever Narc hit me once. I fought him back. Threw everything on the front lawn, which is fuel galore and got on a plane and left. Grand Hoover followed. See? Sheep. I wonder if I can find slutty sheep costume? Hmmm.
Thank you 2mpathetic, I may be too participatory. As opposed to HG’s predatory. I see HG and his blog as a means to become informed and questions avail answers….sometimes.
Lol on Mr dressup…yes to individuality, no to physical violence. The emotional abuse is scarring enough.
Slutty chicken and sheep costumes, I am sure they are out there somewhere….no, I don’t have those…I do have a cat and a Unicorn though the bagock…made LOL.
I like to look up at your tower and see you standing there, in all your glory. To see that devilish gleam in your beautiful eyes…..
You’re up on your throne in the tower and while you’re connected to us and you can see us…we can’t get to you. You’re ALWAYS out of reach, no matter how we claw and climb.
If I addressed u as Nimrod would u think it a criticism? I would be joking of course, don’t you know me by now? I wonder if u can take a joke or laugh at yourself? U won’t grace me with an answer. Anyways…..the tower of Babel which became Babylon. The place where languages were confused and people were misled. This is an apt description of the above because u confuse language, u mislead people and yet like the false hope that Babylon held out to people, u do too. Well done. Apt description of the way u think. Btw is the your tower in a phallic shape? Lol. Dirty Girl. 💋
I know you are joking and besides I am not rebellious against God. I of course find Elgar’s Nimrod an excellent piece of music. Where your labelling me as Nimrod is accurate, although I doubt you would know this, is that we used to have an aircraft in this country called Nimrod and its classification was as a Intelligence Surveillance Targeting Acquisition Reconnaissance Now, how apt is that to me?
I like your analogy with the Tower of Babel though. Aren’t all towers roughly phallic in design? Yes you are a dirty girl, go and sit in the corner.
Yes you are right idk anything. I will sit in my corner as any “good whore” would. When are you going to answer my tough questions? I’ve been writing for days. Am I being punished that way too? Dr. M has his theories but I want to see if yours match….see what I did there….come on don’t punish me, it was funny. U love me. Dont u? Feign insecurity, ya that will work.
I know you have been working hard and I shall be answering them along with a whole batch of other outstanding questions.
Thank you for the acknowledgement. U made me, promises promises, knowing I’d believe. I forget that u got more holes than a golf course to attend to (yes that was dirty too) besides this blog, writing books, work?, rest, eating etc..
You forgot the most important item.
I thought that was a given? Edgar- Nimrod, like. Why? Kinda edelweissy and auch ich bin ein matiger jager.
Elgar and Nimrod? Why? I’ll tell you why!
There would be no time if there were no beings capable of reason. It is in the sense that there would be no food if there were no organisms. And no tea-cups if there were no tea drinkers. Imagine a world with no tea cups. There would be things which look like what are in our world tea cups. There would be things which could be used to drink tea, buckets, shells and such like, but tea cups are the things we use to drink tea and in that sense they are as much a cultural objects as chess or the polonaise. Think of crushed ice and seaweed trimmings. The thinly sliced buttered brown bread. And fingerbowls.
I’ll give them bloody tea cups!
What about mowing the lawn?!
Not why why…although I liked your rant, u are so cute. I said Like. Like I liked it. Why as in why do I like it?…its edelweissy. Let me get out my grandmother’s Royal Winton tea set straight from the factory town of Widnes and make you some. Before u hurt yourself. Now if mowing the lawn is a reference to the golf course comment I made, uh mines mowed…thanks.
I thought it might have come from Stoke.
Muppets I forgot.
His new appliance calls herself, dirty girl, here comes the rain again….tears.