The Mockery of Mimicry

the-mockery-of-mimicry

I love to copy. I have to copy. It is all I have known for as long as I can remember. It is my natural setting to mimic those around me. I have to fit in, I have to belong and the most effective way for me to achieve this is to replicate everything that I come into contact with. If I interact with an esteemed academic I will listen to his or her achievements and then pass those off as my own as I peel away their glittering accolades and apply them to myself. Should I spend time with an exceptional sporting individual then their record-breaking endeavours will be purloined for my benefit and sported as my own in furtherance of my own belief in my exceptional ability. Author? Yes I have written books too. Model? Yes I do some modelling from time to time. Chef? You should try my signature dish, it is heavenly. Everyone I have dealings with presents me with an opportunity to copy an element of their personality. character or personae so that I may then present it as my own and in so doing I shine brighter and become an even more attractive prospect to those whose lives I effortlessly infiltrate.

This skill at mimicry enables me to ghost in and out of people’s lives. I know the social norms which are applicable and through careful examination and application I am able to pass as one just like you. I am a facsimile of a decent, personable and engaging individual and this allows me access to my targets without raising any alarms. My veneer of respectability has been fashioned from all those that I engage with, gathering patches, fragments, shards and pieces until they are hewn together and I drape it about me allowing me to come and go as I please.

It is however with you that I exhibit the astonishing mimicry of which I am a master. Once I have selected you as my target I have learned much about you already. With what will eventually be recognised as alarming ease, I replicate a fondness for all those things which you like and a distaste for all those things that you dislike. Think back and you will readily recall how I love horse-riding just as you did, that I enjoyed swimming in open water just like you and my passion for the works of Geoffrey Chaucer matched yours. Those interests which were close to you became interests that were close to me. Your appreciation of an excellent bottle of Chateau Margaux was matched by my ability to remember the applicable tasting notes and recite them to you as if it was my own appreciation. I would mimic the way you sat, copying your body language because I know, from extensive practice that this paves the way to bonding with you. I would mimic your speech patterns to form a sub-conscious link between us. I liked blue because you liked blue. I found listening to soul music an offence to my ears but I maintained a false enjoyment of it since you liked it so much. I actually enjoy choosing from the Crustacea bar but your dislike of seafood meant that I too turned lobster and oysters away. How often did you remark aloud, to me or to your friends,

“We have so much in common.”

“We like so many of the same things it is wonderful.”

“We share so many interests, I love it.”

“We are so well matched. On every level. We really are soulmates.”

Of course we are. I made it so because I wanted to be everything you wanted. I took your  long list of likes and dislikes, your catalogue of loves and hates and your grimoire of hopes and fears and I copied each and every page. I am a walking photocopier and I copied everything you wanted in order to ensure that my seduction of you was successful, encompassing and absolute.

Yet, my astonishing powers of mimicry did not end there. Goodness me no, there was more yet to come. In a particularly unpleasant twist to this malevolent skill of mine I would mimic your responses to my devaluation of you but this time it would not be a complete facsimile, I would make a slight change to my copying so that you would be undermined even further.

When you stood there crying with frustration and I drank deep of the delicious fuel you provided me, I would raise my hands to my eyes and draw pretend tears on my cheeks and make a sobbing noise to humiliate you further. Here I was letting you know that I copied everything that went before yet now I copy again but not with the perfection I once exhibited. I allow the sting of sarcasm and the malicious mockery to infiltrate my copying of your behaviour so that your hurt and bewilderment was increased. You would shout at me and I would shout back using the exact words before standing and laughing at you as you burned with frustration, unable to find any response. You might stamp your feet in exasperation and I would do the same but with a leer of disdain writ large across my face.

There were times when you would scream. A terrified scream as my vicious manipulations would take their toll and as you tried to curl into a ball and hope you might just disappear and escape this nightmare, I would lean in close to you and mimic your scream into your ear, creating this fabricated falsetto of distress in order to further your own. Every reaction to my devaluation of you had the potential to be met by a mimicked reply from me in order to further your misery and demonstrate I did not treat your responses with any sincerity or concern.

I am the master of mimicry, the king of copying and the duke of duplication. I am a walking and talking photocopier machine. I put the rank in Rank Xerox.

0
Advertisements

21 thoughts on “The Mockery of Mimicry”

  1. Like I have been answered by You before: You don’t copy when You are alone because there is no need for a mask. I’d do anything to see You like that without any any mask…

    0
    1. HG, in a way, we are all seeing a partial side of you without a mask here since you share all that you are capable of through your writings. That has a level of authenticity, right?

      0
    1. Omg! I just woke up and read this. Thanks for the visual BE. That sets an interesting tone for the day! Lolll

      0
  2. Well no, I don’t become a professional tennis player when you say you play three times a week…I never played a day in my life, and while I can talk a good game I can’t turn into a Williams sister on the court. And you play three times a week, so if I say I play, you’ll invite me to your club.

    No, the mimicry I engage in is on a much smaller scale. You say you’re driving down to Atlantic City New Year’s Eve to party at the trendy nightclub in the casino…I’m leaving the 30th of December, staying in a suite at the five star hotel, I’ve booked a spa treatment, have a dinner reservation in the restaurant on New Year’s Eve, booked a spa treatment for New Year’s Day, and will come home the second.

    0
  3. Don’t worry it’s okay if you want to copy me. I take that as a compliment. Because if I were you, I’d want to be me too….oh sorry, no really, don’t keep me locked in the cellar!

    0
  4. Dear God, what a night. I was in a house full of narcs. I laughed when reading you mention mimicking tears. Apprently I am the queue to when the water works are to begin. After a very emotional announcement, everyone else stood silent as I bounced around a blubbering mess. After a few seconds of watching my reaction, a few dabbed at their eyes, to ensure they follow decorum. Somehow all the yoga in the world cannot maintain my peace because by the end of the night I blew my lid, as once again others watched, while I erupted into a lava flow of emotions. Maybe I’m the crazy one.

    0
    1. You’re NOT THE “crazy one” …that’s the unfortunate reality. There’s NO fix! We rack our brains searching for what ifs and whys. The AH HA moment will come and you will be free. Only better with knowledge and a new strength …let it happen! Yoga is wonderful …embrace the inner peace.

      0
      1. Thank you Holy. The problem is I cannot contain my emotions. Regardless of how ‘zen’ I am, when amongst narcs, I eventually will blow. Once I’ve reached that state, they watch me in a peaceful and puzzled manner, as if not understanding how I came to boil, when they were the ones feeding the flame underneath me.

        0
      2. You’ve heard that old saying “let go, or be dragged” …of course we’ve been vulnerable and opened our hearts. It hurts! There’s no escape other tban the reality of our experiences. When you find yourself drifting in past memory or false hope …just remember it was all a lie.

        0
  5. Hi Mr. Tudor, have you ever been in a setting where the number of narcs outnumber others? If so, how is fueled obtained? Do you mimic each other? Is there civility? If there is only empath in the bunch, do you all gang up on that person, or is it more strategic? Like forming a single file line for each to have a go?

    0
    1. Hello Love, yes I have. I have a number of works in progress which concern Narc on Narc action, if you will. The Greater will draw fuel from the Lesser and Mid-Range in such a situation by frustrating and annoying them, perhaps causing them to compliment also, but it usually negative in nature. It is sustainable for a short period of time because a narcissist has some emotional responses but it is not satisfactory fuel for a long period. If there is an empath in the mix it is first come first served, there is no honour amongst us, there is no line-up but survival of the most narcissistic.

      0
      1. Thank you. I’m so looking forward to your narc on narc work! Maybe I should pat myself on the back for taking narc gang fuel bangs like a champ. Lol I’ve had many years of practice.

        0
  6. I loved this blog. The thing is though, I would hope that the mimicking thing would be one of the very first clues as to who I am dealing with first off. Hmmm. Come to think of it, my ex didnt really seem to have that much in common with me. Nothing to write home about shall we say. However….I have always thought of myself as rather boring, compared to most. There are a few things of course that holds interest for me. Watching true crime docos as an example. He, the narc, could never get into it. Way too real for him I used to think. If it wasnt Fantasy, it wouldnt hold his interest. Now heres the punch line…..IRONICALLY….before we split up I yelled at him “you are so damned boring!” OMG!!!!! He even mimicked that didnt he HG? OMG! The penny just dropped!! Lmao!

    0

Leave a Reply