Will ‘o The Wisp




You feel like you are trying to deal with an opponent that always seems to be one step ahead. It is like trying to tie down a vapour or stop the tide from advancing and engulfing your sand castle or catching an elusive will ‘o the wisp. No matter what you do, we always seem to have a way of squirming free, walking away and carrying on as normal. It is like trying to fight a battle with a rusty and nicked sword and one hand tied behind your back. It is akin to those dreams where you try to run but find you cannot move. You try to scream but no sound come from your throat. Every move you make appears to have been anticipated. You play a full house in poker and I produce a royal flush but where did that extra king appear from? I always have something up my sleeve. You are chasing the end of the rainbow but it always keeps shifting, just a little bit further away. You are getting nearer, closing on your goal and then it moves again. You think you have mastered the rules and then we introduce a new one which suits our purposes.

          Last week we complimented the steak pie that you made. Our praise was effusive and it was a delightful hiatus in the otherwise unpleasant treatment you had been receiving. You decide to play this winning hand again and proudly place it in the centre of the table only to be met with a sigh and a roll of the eyes.

“What’s the matter? You loved the steak pie I made last week.”

“I don’t want to eat steak pie.”

“Why what’s wrong?”

“Why must there always be something wrong. I do not want steak pie.”

“But you did last week?”

“That was then and this is now.”

Cue scathing put downs and storming from the table leaving you bewildered and upset. You don’t make steak pie again only to be scolded the following week.

“What’s happened to the steak pie? Why have you stopped making it when you know that it is my favourite?”

You dress up to the nines and you are called slutty. You dress down and you are upbraided for not putting the effort in. You try to cuddle us in the night and an elbow is jabbed into your chest because you are making us too hot. Two hours later we wake you up and ask you why you stopped hugging us. We tell you that we will be in by seven and then appear at nine. You are forbidden from questioning us about this. You are not entitled to do so. We do as we please. You buy an expensive gift for our birthday and you are told that it is not as good as last year. The following year you really push the boat out to be told you have spent too much and we just wanted something simple. You re-decorate and select a rich chocolate brown. We declare it to be the wrong shade and point to a colour that looks no different. We will not let the matter rest until you have changed it. Once applied it appears the same. We declare we want to go out for dinner and you get ready only for us to decide we would rather stay in and watch sport.

          Whatever you do it is always wrong, never correct, not good enough and an erroneous choice. No matter how many times you ask what we want, you still make the wrong choice. You suggest that we do it ourselves and you are accused of not caring. You confirm you will deal with it and you are a control freak who will not allow us to breathe on our own. Whatever you decide to do or say we will find a way of twisting it around so it suits us. Our logic seems entirely warped to you but to us it makes perfect sense because the only logic we adhere is that which means whatever we say is right, even when we show rank hypocrisy or we contradict ourselves. We can reason away every contradiction you point out to us and if you somehow back us into a corner then we will just accuse you of badgering us, change the subject or walk away. In our minds we win every single time. 

          We cast you aside telling you that you have let yourself go and we cannot be with you. You see us the next week and we are with someone less attractive than you, carrying more weight and who holds down a job less prestigious that yours. You cannot comprehend why we let you go and chose her instead, especially after what we said. You stare open-mouthed and scratch your head. To us we win again because we have acquired someone new whose fuel is better than anything you have ever provided and in addition we have got to you, so you pour out the negative fuel. If we had suddenly appeared with a supermodel instead you might talk a small degree of comfort in thinking that you could not compete with this person but do not let that think you have secured some kind of small victory. In our minds this just reaffirms that we were right to leave you and trade up. 

          You catch us in bed with someone else. It is not our fault. If you loved us properly we would not have to stray. You show us complete love and devotion and nobody could ever accuse you of selling us short in the bedroom. We accuse you of having too high a sex drive because you must be getting it elsewhere. If you apply reason and logic, especially towards one of our lesser brethren, then they will ignore the force of your words and instead accuse you of trying to belittle and bamboozle them with long words plucked from the dictionary and why do you always have to patronise them with such words and sentences. Whatever you choose, whatever you decide, whatever you do it will always be wrong and whatever we do will always be right. Accuse us as much as you like for being twisted, illogical and difficult and we will be in your face pointing out how you always have to try and get one over us. Black becomes white and then becomes yellow. Nothing makes sense with us but that is because it makes complete sense to us. Our approach is to gather fuel and that means we can and must do so through any means even if that does not stack up when looked at from your point of view. This warped and stretched approach allows us to achieve our aims, we confuse and bewilder you, we upset and anger you, we control you and each and every time we know that we have succeeded. Like the most deluded Minister of Propaganda we claim to have defeated you even as your tanks roll past us in the background. We see only what we want to see and we are impervious to all of your reason. We will never accept what you tell us because that does not accord with what we set out to achieve and what we must achieve. Of course this will not stop you trying. You try to defeat us as we replace your arrows with celery sticks and your sword with a stale baguette. We never fight fair. Your frustration, annoyance and inability to comprehend why we do this is what keeps you bound to us and allows us to keep on doing what we must keep on doing. Extracting fuel.

          So, go ahead, build that tower, build it high with the stones that adhere to your beliefs and principles, from stone that is beautifully cut and polished, that anybody would admire and cherish, but let us see how you build that tower was the sands beneath constantly shift and alter. This is what it is to be entangled with us.

45 thoughts on “Will ‘o The Wisp

  1. Indy says:

    Kidney too? OK, I am assuming kidney beans, right? Never had this either. Very confused about this. Does this have baby souls blended with kidneys of kitties?

    1. Love says:

      It is normally lamb kidney. Perhaps narcs indulge in black market organs.

      1. Indy says:

        ok, ok…so now there are ORGANS in these pies…

    2. Bloody Elemental says:

      Organ meat is delicious if it is cooked right.

      Yes, steak and kidney pie does have kidney in it.

      I also thoroughly enjoy buffalo heart (it is like eating the most succulent, tender cut of beef imaginable when done correctly) and tongue. I also do not mind liver from time to time.

      1. Love says:

        Wow B_E, we finally have something in common ☺

      2. Indy says:

        Hmmm, I am sure you are correct, BE. Just the though makes me a little weirded out.

      3. nikitalondon says:

        ughhhh the choice of food in this conversation is … 😷😷😷

  2. DFA says:

    Ignis fatuus

  3. Disintegrated says:

    Dear G…. It got me thinking…. Do You remember this beautiful letter You found between Your books from one of Your ex girlfriends… You mention it in one of Your books… Forgot her name…anyway…
    Did she know the whole secret about You?
    Did anyone who is not a relative ever knew what’s happend in Your childhood? (have You ever told anyone even a friend?) Do Your doctors know the exact trauma You went through (if they knew they might help You bring down Your matrinarc)
    and one last question : what shool is Your matrinarc? She isn’t the greater, is she? Is she aware of the whole NPD? is she aware of the destruction she caused? is she aware that You can build Your army and destroy her ? I do apologise for that many questions and if they have ever been answered elsewhere xxx

    1. Disintegrated says:

      apologies for spelling mistakes. typing on he phone isn’t ideal.

    2. HG Tudor says:

      Yes I remember the letter and no she does not know the whole secret about me.
      Nobody outside of certain family members knows what happened. The doctors are getting the picture now.
      MatriNarc is an Upper Mid Range Elite.
      She thinks she is impregnable.

      1. Disintegrated says:

        I appreciate You have found the time to answer my questions . Thank You xxx

        1. HG Tudor says:

          You are welcome.

  4. Love says:

    As if anyone can ‘catch you in bed’, Mr. Tudor. You are a greater elite. You will calmly get out of bed, look straight at her and tell her what she thinks she seeing is not real. She is hallucinating again.
    She will nod in agreement and go to the medicine cabinet to take her anxiety medication.

  5. Starr says:

    What if you wanted something after you cheated or hurt someone and they found out and when you asked them for a favor they replied with

    No , you do not deserve it .

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Then they will “persuaded” to change their unhelpful stance, Starr.

  6. Cara says:

    It’s not that your replacement is less attractive & has a less prestigious job…he’s not as well-dressed, his car isn’t as good as yours (in fact, he doesn’t even own a car, he makes me take the subway). But you’re confused about why I’m with him after I threw you over due to your “lack of ambition”.

  7. Indy says:

    Steak pie? And you call us Georgians degenerates with our biscuits.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Indy that is fighting talk. Sure you have pies? With steak meat inside? They are an institution at half-time during British football matches!

      1. Bloody Elemental says:

        Steak and kidney pie. I make a mean one.

        1. HG Tudor says:

          Get weaving, I am on my way.

          1. Bloody Elemental says:

            As long as you give me a day`s notice, HG.

            Meat must be cooked a day ahead, in order to discard any fat that has risen to the top, and so that the pastry doesn’t slump in the face of a too-warm filling.

            My mouth is watering.

      2. Love says:

        Very nice B_E. I’m impressed.

      3. Indy says:

        Really? Never had one. Is this similar to a pot pie?

        1. HG Tudor says:

          I have no idea what a pot pie is Indy.

          1. Indy says:

            It is a small pie in a tin, with a savory buttery crust and stew like ingredients in it with a stew thick base. It can be chicken or beef or even pork I think. Its not something you eat here during sporting matches as it requires a spoon or fork.

          2. HG Tudor says:

            That sounds similar.

            We actually do use a plastic fork to eat them during half-time (or throw them at the opposition fans)

          3. Indy says:

            Noooooooo, that’s horrible!!!

            Got pics? lol

          4. Bloody Elemental says:

            I know what you are referring to Indy.

            Chicken pot pie for example. Again, something else I make exceptionally well.

            But you have not had anything until you have tasted my homemade tourtière, the recipe for which has been passed down generations.

            Cooking is something I adore and because I am extremely skilled at it, it pleases me to have people fawn all over me and my delicious offerings.

          5. Indy says:

            I bet you are a great cook. Me, I love being cooked for 🙂 My ex was an amazing cook as well and is one thing I do miss. I just looked up tourtière, the beef version looks yummy. I should see if I can find some around here in Georgia. I read it was a Quebec specialty.

  8. AH OH says:


    Great Album by Leon Russell. He died and I wanted to see him next time he was here.

  9. You are deliciously evil HG Tudor. But not all narcissists are that smart… maybe that is a good thing. You are scary too but and your blog is hypnotizing. I admit I was hurt in the past by somebody with NPD but I recovered rather quickly. That was a former friend of mine. I do not really feel victimized as I was keeping my boundaries all the time knowing that he is not ‘normal’. Typical covert narcisst but with too many red flags to ignore. I also read all of your books. I find the psychology of narcissists and psychopaths fascinating. Thanks for being evil but altruistic and sharing the knowladge. I will never fight any narcissist using this knowledge though, I just prefer to utilize it to spot them and manipulate them, as needed. I think I met your criteria of a Super Empath.

  10. Sues says:

    What does fuel feel like? How long does it typically last ?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Hello Sues, fuel is power. A delicious sensation which ranges from the slightest flicker of power to the hegemonic super soaring power where one feels like one is about to lift off the ground. Its duration depends on who is providing it and the method by which they are doing so. It might be less than a minute and can last all day.

      1. Disintegrated says:

        Is it stronger than.. let’s say an orgasm or a hit of adrenaline when one bungee jump?

        1. HG Tudor says:


      2. Cherry says:

        I have a question. Why do u creatures like cowboys. 😀

        1. HG Tudor says:

          Because of Westworld which is the Narcissistic Utopia.

      3. Love says:

        Really you like Westworld?!? Wow!!! How interesting! Do you identify with the androids or the humans?

        1. HG Tudor says:

          With Anthony Hopkins character.

      4. Love says:

        Lol you identify with ‘the creator’. Playing God. Very interesting.

  11. Angelina says:

    HG, I never could figure out when he asked me to do something then rage when I complied and then made me feel self doubt. I never knew it was all intentional. He denied he said it, played forgetful or made an excuse.

  12. DFA says:

    That picture comes very close to the way the woods have looked every morning around 3 am, Its beautiful HG.

    So trying to catch a greased pig is like trying to keep up with the wind of change in the relationship. May the odds be ever in your favor.

    1. Love says:

      Your woods sound beautiful. Are those fairies in the pic and do you have them too?

  13. Brian says:

    Great, one of the best I’ve read.
    Very share-able.

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