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Would you like to know what my garden is like? Before I tell you, why don’t you stop and close your eyes and picture in your mind’s eye what you think my garden looks like? That’s right, conjure up the image that forms when you think of me and what my garden might be like. Take your time, move around it and ensure you have given it due consideration as you generate the image. Have you done it? Did it take you long? I suspect you managed to envisage it rather quickly didn’t you, after all, you are well-known for your amazing imagination aren’t you? I often find I have to apologise for your fantastic tales and over the top comments, but that is to be expected of somebody like you. Anyway, let’s leave your behaviour to one side for the time being (although I will return to it when nobody is looking, you can be assured of that) and let’s consider what you created in your mind.

I should imagine that the landscape you have formulated is one of two outcomes. I expect that some of you will have pictured nothing but concrete. All plant life and flora banished by a solid slab of grey cement that has solidified into an impenetrable barrier that stretches in all directions, lifeless and uninspiring. Once there might have been a flourishing and verdant garden but it has been banished by this concrete covering which has extinguished anything that grew or blossomed. If the concrete carbuncle is not what you saw in your mind then you will have opted for the alternative. You will have pictured solid, barren and lifeless soil which will not sustain anything of beauty. A toxic and poisonous stream flows through the centre of it, dead fish floating on their backs as they drift lifelessly along. Not even algae grow on this polluted stream. The few trees there are in this garden are dead. The bark grey and lifeless, forlorn limbs stretching into a dark grey sky, where there is always cloud. The branches and twigs are leafless. The bushes consist of brambles which hinder anybody who might try and move through this uninviting place. There is no grass and there a few brown, dried-out husks which suggest they might have once been something greener and vibrant. There are no sweet smelling flowers here, only the awful stench which rises from the slow-moving stream which looks more like treacle that water. Even the weeds are few and far between, struggling to find any sustenance from the sterile soil.

Is this what you saw?

Come and follow me as I take you into my secret garden. I produce a key from my jacket explaining that very few people ever get to see my secret garden but I am letting you inside because you are special and I like you. I open the thick gate and usher you inside. You do not see me hurriedly lock it behind you since you are busy staring at the beautiful garden that rolls out before you. Capability Brown must have laboured long and hard here. The lawn is flat and even, the grass has been rolled so that stripes have formed and there is not one blemish to be seen amidst the green, green blades. The edges of the lawn have been carefully cut so that no grass overhangs so that there is a distinct line between the lawn and the flower beds. The soil looks fertile, well-nourished and is free of weeds. A dazzling array of flowers grow from this well-tilled soil. Strong stalks reach up towards the azure sky, shiny leaves sprouting from the stalks before the injection of colour appears. Every shade of the rainbow is represented amongst the many varieties of flower that flourish in my secret garden. Brilliant blues, fiery oranges, ruby reds and sunshine yellows abound. The flowers have short petals, long petals which move in the gentle breeze, there are bell-shaped flowers, trumpet shaped flowers and others shaped like stars. White, purple, scarlet and ochre all combine to create this tapestry of beauty. A stream gurgles as it passes through the garden, cutting across the magnificently manicured lawn, so that an intricate bridge has been created allowing one to traverse from one side to the other. Bushes ring the flowers, an expert in topiary having crafted them into sensational shapes. Beyond the bushes are the trees, tall and trimmed so that they form a fence around this paradise. You stand on the edge of this magnificent garden utterly transfixed. The scents waft from the roses, from the lilies and the sweet William combining to create a heady concoction of fragrances. You are over awed by this display.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

You are dumb-founded, unable to speak. All you can muster is a slow nod as you feel a tear trickle down your cheek from your left eye as you are overtaken by how beautiful it all is.

I beckon to you and you follow me to a nearby apple tree which is festooned with fruit. The red and green apples hang from the branches and I pluck one and pass it to you. You smile and take a bite anticipating how fresh and crisp the apple will be. Your teeth easily sink in as you are surprised to find the flesh of the apple soft. You taste bitterness in your mouth and instinctively spit out the piece of fruit.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I select an apple too.

“It is sour,” you explain. I take a bite from my apple and you hear the crunch as I take a chunk from it. I chew and through the mouthful explain that mine tastes fine. I hand the apple to you and you bite into it. It is soft and again tastes sour. Confusion rises inside you as you look at the apple and see a maggot wriggling beneath where you have bitten into the apple. You hurl the apple away as I invite you to sniff a magnificent rose nearby. You lean in and inhale its perfume, pulling the petalled head towards you. There is no scent and instead you sneeze. As you let go of the rose you give a short cry of pain and find that a thorn is wedged in your finger, the blood already spooring from the wound and trickling down your finger. You sneeze again,your nose irritated by something and you keep sneezing as your eyes water. You stagger away from the rose still sneezing and into a bush but it is not the sculpted creation you saw moments earlier. Instead, you feel a prickling sensation as you are stung and realise you have stumbled into a bed of nettles. Pain rising you stagger away, eyes streaming and make for where you recall the stream is hoping to use the cool, clear water to wash away the irritation you have suffered. You can just make out where it is through your blurred vision as you drop to your knees only to cry out again. You have knelt on some thistles.Where did they come from? This lawn was flawless before. You reach out flailing for the stream but there is nothing, The water has gone and the stream has dried up. You feel something wrap around your left wrist and as you try to wipe away the tears from your eyes with your free hand, you feel pain as a vine begins to tighten about your wrist. You pull trying to free yourself from it and twist around to call to me for help.

The smooth lawn is no longer there. Gone is the rolled grass. Instead you are looking at a mountainside, rugged and steep. You yank your arm as the vine is trying to pull you and look upwards. You can see me standing there smiling at you, looking down from my lofty position atop this mountain which has sprung out of nowhere. A cold wind begins to blow as you shout for help, another vine beginning to snake towards you. I tilt my head as if I cannot hear you, a smile still plastered across my face.

“Help me, what is happening?” you shout.

“Nothing,” I call back, ” I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“This. The garden, it has changed,” you yell above the gathering wind. You see that I am shaking my head.

” Not it’s not, everything is just the same, Beautiful isn’t it?” I reply.

You frown. How can I not see what has altered? The beautiful glade has become a hostile and hurtful place. How has this happened to you? You try and crawl forward and I stand watching you, offering no help as more vines snake towards you, the ground beneath you hard and stony. The vines wrap about you and threaten to pull you into the abyss below you. All the while I stand and watch smiling.

Welcome to my secret garden.

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There is a significant correlation between our kind and the use of pornographic material. Once upon a time, one might imagine that the size of a person’s porn stash might have been a rough and ready indicator of their reliance on porn and their potential for being one of our kind. Nowadays the availability of porn through the internet means that millions of images and videos are available at the click of the mouse. No longer is it necessary for people to buy top-shelf magazines, visit an “adult sex shop” to purchase videos or DVDs, or import some hardcore material from another jurisdiction. It is far easier to go online and obtain a porn fix there instead. If you have been entangled with our kind, it is highly likely that porn featured on the agenda. Initially, it will have been used as an aperitif to sexual activity, watching a film together or surfing for some interesting snippets in order to get us both in the mood or enhance the mood further. It would provide a basis for discussion between us as to ascertaining sexual mores and appetites. During seduction we would garner from you what worked for you, what turned you off and what intrigued you. Some of that knowledge would be put to use as part of the seduction and some of it would be stored away for later use. Porn would be used in an effective and healthy manner. Our true use of porn would be suspended by the needs arising from effecting the seduction, embedding you and extracting your positive fuel.

Porn appeals to each cadre of narcissist as a consequence of its availability and ubiquity. I will detail below a host of reasons why narcissists of all cadres and schools utilise porn, especially during the devaluation period, but to begin with, a brief mention as to why porn is specifically appealing to these groups.

The Victim Narcissist – with low energy levels and often a low libido, porn provides an easy and available option. Some Victim Narcissists also suffer sexual dysfunction and therefore watching porn is an easy substitute for something they are less able to do.

The Somatic Narcissist – porn is his playground. His obsessions with body and performance come together in a glittering array of writhing and gyrating bodies. Porn is the cradle of the somatic.

The Cerebral – whilst he may have less interest in the sex act, he still wants to know plenty about it and watching extensive amounts of porn, understanding techniques, observing scenarios and so forth enables the Cerebral Narcissist to stockpile his sexual arsenal for later use through spoken and written communication.

The Elite – quite obviously a combination of the reasons that attract the Somatic and the Cerebral means that the Elite finds much to relish in the world of pornography.

The Lesser –  the power and control which come with porn appeal to the lesser. His lack of imagination is also catered for by watching such a massive array of porn.

The Mid-Range –  acquisition of knowledge about porn enables him to portray himself as more capable than he is and enables him to talk a good game.

The Greater – the access to depravity and humiliation appeals especially to the Greater. Whilst such actions will also be evidenced in the Lesser and Mid-Range, it is the Greater who makes more extensive use of porn in this fashion.

Accordingly, porn provides some kind of use to each school and each cadre of our kind. If your narcissist did not appear to access porn, then it is probably the case that you just never caught them doing so. Secrecy is a significant part of the narcissistic lifestyle and secret tablets, activity in the bolthole and password locked devices will invariably be masking a use of porn.

Why do our kind make such extensive use of porn? The use of porn naturally is nor per se a bad thing and many victims enjoy viewing porn as a stimulating and vibrant addition to sexual activity. Those reasons are for stimulation, increasing knowledge and technique in order to please themselves and their partner and in essence for reasons which would be regarded by many people as “good”. Our reasons are far more varied.

  1. Objectification. I have explained previously how we regard people as objects because they are our appliances. This is even more so when we watch porn. Our grandiosity and sense of omnipotence means that these objects are performing for our benefit. We sit before glowing screen akin to a director as these objects interact at our say so. If we want to watch two women and a man together – click, we find the video. If we want anal – click, we find the video. She males, enemas, bondage – whatever we decide the objects should do, we just click and the relevant objects appear to do what we want. We consider ourselves as commanding them to do our bidding.
  2. Lack of intimacy. Our inability to feel many emotions means that intimacy is abhorrent to us. Yes, it will be faked during seduction because of the greater aim that exists but once there is no need for this, it is readily jettisoned. You may (not always admittedly) seek intimacy in your sexual union with us. We will not want that during devaluation and therefore this will result in an ignited fury response. In order to avoid such a scenario arising we take refuge in the world of porn where there is no intimacy. It is cold, clinical and two or more objects performing as we decree.
  3. Control of the environment. We do not want the environment to control us. We must control the environment. This is why control ranks so highly in our day to day dealings. In the arena of pornography, we are in complete control of the environment. We transport ourselves into the scenario as god-like we control it, directing people to place this here and that there, do this, do that, take this, take that. Porn is the ultimate place for us to be able to control the environment.
  4. Reflection. We do not exist save by reflection. This is why we have such an incredible need for external approval and why we seek fuel from everything that we interact with. Your emotional responses (good or bad) provide us with validation that we exist, that we matter and that we are important. We also take your characteristics to use as our own in order to further our construct of what we want to be. Porn facilitates this also. The supreme Olympic performances of those in the videos that we watch, we consider to be us. Therefore, we take those characteristics for ourselves. We also regard the reaction of those in the videos, their orgasmic screams of delight, their groans of pleasure, even the harsh words issued by a dominatrix to be directed as emotional reactions to us and thus fuel is gained and we receive validation by these people recognising us. We become a participant in the porn. If the video is a POV (point of view) production the effect is heightened.
  5. Withdrawal. By choosing to spend our time watching porn rather than being in bed with you we gain fuel from your response. Sometimes it will be Thought Fuel as we think of you lying there in a lonely bed upset and wondering why we spend so long locked in our bolthole and other times it will be Proximate Fuel as you berate us for watching porn or become upset when we reject your advances and head for the study instead. Our extensive use of porn is utilised to belittle you, thus drawing fuel and reinforce our superiority over you.
  6. Lack of challenge. We hate being challenged, after all, we are superior beings and you are inferior therefore any challenge you may issue to us in the sexual arena is unwelcome during devaluation. You are not allowed to make demands on us, have sexual needs which require fulfilment and the like. Those on the screen do not challenge us. Instead they comply with us and facilitate what we want and thus they are preferred.
  7. On tap. We require repeated validation and recognition of our importance and what better way than to receive it from a medium which is always there, always delivers and does so in spades? It does not feel tired; it does not have a period nor does it have a headache. It does not baulk at a certain demand or resist a depraved act. It performs when want it to and it provides us with what we need. This is how our appliances should operate and how we expect them to operate.
  8. Shame. We feel safer operating in an environment that  does not require an emotional obligation on our part. Not always, but you will often expect an intimate connection with us during sexual activity and we do not want to provide this as we cannot. Whilst we take fuel from your emotional reactions, you often want this reciprocated in the sexual arena more than any other and we are reminded of our inability to provide certain emotions to you and this creates shame. This is a criticism which will then ignite our fury and cause us to withdraw or lash out at you. We do not wish to experience this shame and therefore by engaging in viewing porn we are not subjected to this emotional demand from you. (This is also a factor in our kind’s use of one night stands and prostitutes).
  9. Uniqueness. By delving into deviancy and taboo activities online this reinforces our sense of being unique, special and above everyone else. Vanilla sex is available for everyone but we are not everyone. Watching the more deviant and kink sexual activities is not done in order to gain a sexual kick from doing so (although one will be present) the main aim is to reinforce our sense of being unique because we watch (and by extension engage in) such activity.
  10. Triangulation. We will use the watching of porn to triangulate with you. Either through withdrawing from sexual activity with you or using what we have viewed as the basis for insisting on you engaging in similar activities and telling you why we want you to do this. This allows fuel to be obtained and enables our superiority to be reinforced.
  11. Social media. Our porn habits during devaluation are usually solitary activities in our boltholes where we are also able to reach out and gain fuel from a wide range of appliances through social media at the same time. This creates a heady brew of fuel from our porn viewing and our interaction with appliances through social media. This is highly edifying for us and by combining the two we feel especially powerful. We receive fuel but we are also god-like as we command the people on screen to do our bidding as we pull the strings of those we message and text.

 

Accordingly, porn is something which appeals considerably to our kind.

Will you ever recognise me as I walk towards you, rictus grin fixed across my face, eyes ablaze with love, passion and desire? Will you notice the way I keep you in my sights as my charm flows over you, seeping into your every pore and orifice? Will you take heed of the sugar-coated words as they spill from my mouth, telling you so remarkably all the things that you want to hear? Will you take note of the phrases which have been recycled again and again and possess the novelty of a cliché? Will you look deep into my eyes and see past your reflection or will you remain transfixed by what shines in these dulled, dark eyes? Will you question how is it that I know so much about you, where you live, where you work, your hobbies and your hates? Will you feel the chill down your spine as I appear once again without warning at a location you frequent or will you regard it as the tingling sensation of excitement and the thrill of my alluring personality? Will you question the platitudes that I issue, like confetti sprinkled on the breeze or will you smile and nod and savour the warmth that rises within you as I tell you how wonderful you are and that we belong together? Will you frown at my declaration of love within a day and a night and a day of meeting you or will you accept and swallow those carefully crafted words without a moment’s consideration? Will you wonder how my hands and mouth became so skilled or will you submit to their heady application and give breathless thanks that they are laid upon you? Will you query how this golden light continues to shine and wonder why you were chosen above all the others? Will you see through the veneer of scathing hatred for those who have gone before you or will you become co-conspirator and sneer at her or at him, disgusted by their lack of dignity in the way that they behave? Will you not ask yourself whether their words ring with truth and why they look as if their very essence has been sucked from them, leaving naught but a fractured shell? Will you wonder why the gifts keep on coming? Will you question the forbidden fruits that have been laid before you or will you gorge on them, delirious with desire and elated by the ecstasy of our largesse?

Will you recognise me when I turn my face from you when you try to kiss me? Will you know what is happening when you are left in a tearful heap on the floor for the third time in a week or will you flagellate yourself for your shortcomings? Will you notice as the triangles are weaved around you and your best friend becomes your supposed enemy, but by whose say so? Will you fight back against the control that is exerted on the way you look, what you choose to do and who you interact with or will you accept it and allow your sense of self to evaporate? Will you understand what is happening to you as you crawl alone into that ice-cold bed, this once haven of sexual congress that now lies like an empty tomb ? Will you realise what is going on as you blink back tears as the clock shows 3am and you have no idea where I am?  Will you stand up for yourself when you are labelled whore, slattern, idiot and fool or will you bow your head and retreat, thankful that your injuries are only verbal. This time. Will you remember what you once were ? Will you remain bound by the chains of confusion or will you break them across your knee and free yourself from your cruel bondage?

Will you recognise me as my hand grips your throat and my bile-infused words rain down on you, spittle flecked hatred peppering your face? Will you dial my number for the fiftieth time in two hours as you desperately try to hear my voice and ask me, beg me, plead for me to come home? Will you wince as another dinner set falls prey to my savage fury ? Will you kneel and pick up the pieces, fingers shaking as you fumble for the broken shards that lie scattered across the floor? Will you know what is being systematically done to you each and every day or will you obscure the reality by praying for that golden light to come back and dispel the darkness? Will you recognise me for what I truly am or will you make yet another excuse, wondering what will happen when you run dry of the excuses and hastily constructed explanations for my reign of terror?

Will you recognise me as I cast you aside, shoved into the dirt and sneered at? Will you look up from the smouldering ruins of what we once had and see her (or is it you?) looking back at you with disdain writ large across her made-up features? She seems so familiar, do you know her, there is such a fog now and it clouds so much. Will you understand why you have been forgotten about as your numbed fingers compose another searching e-mail, asking for explanations that will not come, expressing tearful anger that will be smiled at, detailing your abject hurt which will only ever receive a dismissive shrug?

Will you recognise me for what I am when I reach out a hand and lift you from your broken existence? Will you know what truly is going to happen as I lead you once more towards the brilliant, burning golden light? Will you feel the prick of caution in your mind or will you gladly race towards the promised land once again, concern and hesitation thrown to one side? Will you notice the rictus grin once again as you race ahead of me? Will you pay attention to the darkened glint in my baleful gaze or will you charge headlong towards the paradise,  addicted to its warmth and glorious sensations? Will you recognise me as I close the door behind us, bolt it and turn the heavy iron key in the lock as the thick drapes are pulled across the dirt-smeared windows? Will you notice the sharpened dagger that I have produced and hold behind my back?

Will you stop and glance in the shattered mirror that dominates this place and if you do, will you recognise yourself?

The question of fidelity often intrigues me. If one of your friends came to you and said that their other half has been unfaithful, in what form do you immediately think that the act of unfaithfulness has taken place? I will wager than in the vast majority of cases you will think that him or her has slept with someone else. I am perplexed by how people become so upset if the form of infidelity is the fact that someone has slept with someone else. It may be a one-off drunken occurrence and the name of the other party was not even known or most likely has now been forgotten. Certainly from my perspective an act of physical infidelity is meaningless – it has no resonance with me in terms of forming a bond with the other person. It is purely an act by which we draw them into our web or most likely for the purposes of drawing a reaction from you because we know, for some reason, you get most upset about the fact we engaged in physical contact with another person even though it may not be repeated and meant nothing to us. The act itself rarely generates any pleasure for us, it is the reactions that arise from it that are the aim. Similarly, if one spends time with another member of the opposite sex, that also seems to generate a reaction too. Why is that? You remark about having friends (some of whom are of the opposite sex) so why can we not do so and why must you become so agitated when we explain we are going to lunch with that person or attending a show with him or her? Is it perhaps the fact we are not spending the time with you since we are spending time with another? Is it not borne out of your jealousy and insecurity, rather than anything we have done that is deemed to be morally reprehensible? Now, I can comprehend that you feel distraught should your partner be sharing their hopes, fears and deepest secrets with someone else. I am aware from extensive studying of other people that an individual feels most betrayed when they know their partner has been engaging in soul-searching with another person, conveying their deepest feelings and heart felt concerns. Oddly enough, you need not be concerned about me doing that, even though I am spending time with someone else. I know from the things that you have said to me that the emotional connection you feel with someone trumps everything else. If you regard that emotional connection being shared between you and someone else or even diverted away from you to that other person, then quite a reaction indeed arises from you. Yet, do you not demonstrate hypocrisy in adopting this attitude? I know for a fact (since I have listened in on your conversations) that you talk about everything to your sister and two of your friends. Is that not sharing or diverting your emotional connection with others instead of me? In fact, you divulge all of the details in lengthy analytical discussions. I may spend time with other women but I tell you this, I do not go into the intricacies of how I feel. I do not discuss what might trouble me or what is gnawing at my mind. It is true. I am too busy charming them by showing off about my achievements, my promotion, my wealth and my urbane charm. I am engaging in telling them ultimately banal and ephemeral things about me in order to draw them closer to me to extract fuel from them. I am listening to their intimate details in order to use them against that person at a later date. I do not pour out the contents of my heart to this individual, I have no need to and indeed I am not wired this way. Thus, your irate reactions when you learn I have been for a coffee with a new neighbour are misplaced. It is I who has the basis for complaining about you spending two hours on the telephone to your friend poring over our relationship in detail. Interestingly, should you learn that I had been spotted kissing some random lady in a bar late at night in a transient and brief liaison you hit the roof.
If you analysed my behaviour you might actually regard it in a different light. Is spending time with a member of the opposite sex being unfaithful? We have an enjoyable time, laugh and joke, yet do not indulge in any physical interaction nor sharing of secrets. The physical liaisons are meaningless too save for the reaction we generate from gaining an admirer (and sometimes we are not ultimately bothered about that) and more usually about your massive emotional response to learning of our one night stand with person unnamed.
Now, I do not want you to change, heavens no. If you did then I would lose so much fuel by you not reacting to these alleged acts of infidelity but you may like to consider, having read my observations on our behaviour from my point of view, whether it really is the sin you consider it to be.