The March of the LoveFrauds


You died the moment you met me.

My kind are engaged in wholesale slaughter. A daily massacre. Nobody is stopping us either.

These massacres are not literal deaths. No, they way I leave you I believe that you may actually prefer to be dead in order to end the pain. The unrelenting pain and misery that I will inflict on you. What I kill is your confidence, your self-esteem and your sense of worth. I annihilate your finances, obliterate your friendships, shred your sanity and drive an icy cold dagger through your very being. You see, people like you pride yourselves on being honest, decent and understanding. That’s what makes you so attractive to me. That’s what makes the killing all the more complete.

You may think that I am an awful human being and that I revel in the consequences of my behaviour. For some of my kind that is right and for others it is not. Some of my kind have no awareness of what they and believe that what they do just has to be done. Others of my kind know exactly what we do. I am not concerned about how you feel. I have no interest in your reaction to what I do. All I am focussed on is what your emotional reaction does for me.

People are stupid. They need everything to be labelled, to be categorised and pigeonholed. They need great big flashing neon signs telling them what people are as they are too idiotic or lazy to try and work it out for themselves. See the man in a dirty raincoat with unkempt hair that hangs around the children’s playground? He is a child molester. Look over there at the man with a striped shirt and a bag with the word ‘Swag’ on it. He is a burglar. What about the lady in dirty, piss-stained clothes, mumbling to herself and trying to feed the pigeons stones? Oh she is a madwoman. That is what people expect to see. Ask anybody to draw a picture of a murderer and ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they will draw a crazed looking man, dressed in black, carrying a knife or a gun. They won’t sketch their spouse or their relative. Ask a person where they will most find a rapist and they will answer that he will be lurking behind a bush near the subway ready to leap out on some stranger. What they won’t do is point at their boyfriend sat next to them watching television.

And that is where the problem lies. You expect to be able to recognise those that will cause you harm in such an obvious manner. It isn’t like that. There is a reason that those dangerous people are able to hurt in the way that they do. It is because they are all around you. They are sat next to you in your car. They stand with you at the water cooler or in the lift. They talk to you at the school gates or serve you your daily coffee. They permeate society. That is what makes them so effective. The ability to blend in and hide in plain sight. How many times have you heard the neighbour interviewed about the horrific murder of a family by the father, say,

“He always seemed so friendly and happy.”


“He kept himself to himself.”


“He was a quiet man. I never thought he had it in him.”

Or my favourite.

“You don’t expect these things to happen here do you? You always think it couldn’t happen here.”

These people appear as innocuous as they are so ordinary and fit with their surroundings. They have masked what lurks beneath. These people, the drug dealers, the killers and the abusers were ordinary. They were themselves and they made no attempt to hide or be different.

This is what makes me so dangerous. I make a conscious attempt to blend in with those around me. I am a shape shifter. I take on the characteristics of my victims, mirroring what they love and enjoy. I become what you want me to be. You have always wanted to meet the successful business owner. I am he. How about the well-read bookish fellow who enjoys the theatre and some amateur dramatics? I can be him as well. You just love people who have travelled extensively? Let me tell you all about my yearlong world tour. Rock nut? Done. Singer? Do re me fah so lah ti do. Family man? No problem. I will morph and twist into these ideal people and in so doing I will slide my tendrils around you with insidious ease and pull you into the full horror of my world.

You are not able to see me coming. I hide behind a thousand masks. The bad people I have described above make no real effort to inveigle their way into your world. They are already there. They are part of your day-to-day life and you are unlucky that you just happened to be near them when they struck. I am completely different. I have come after you. I have marked you out as my prey and circled you, preparing to strike. I engage in subterfuge to further my aims and to enable me to glide in and out of people’s lives with slippery ease. I suddenly appear. Oh, there may be some existing connection admittedly, but that is all part of the preparation. When I actually enter your life I do so in a blaze of deliciously disorientating glory that has you rooted to the spot and gagging for more, such is the addictive nature of my behaviour.

All my work is done before I engage you. That is why your execution takes place the moment we meet. All else that follows is merely your elongated death throes and believe me, do I like to drag them out for the maximum of effect. I even pretend to try and resuscitate you from time to time. That’s just a ruse to enable me to suck more of the life from you. You may regard that as twisted. I don’t care. So long as I am able to feed, that is all that I care about. I must feed. Each and every moment to try and satiate this insatiable hunger that rages inside me. I think that the hunger can be sated but somehow, it never seems to be the case.

Thus my killing goes on and on and on. Victim after victim piling up and the beauty of it all is that I merely slip on another mask and melt away to find another unfortunate. I walk away leaving chaos and destruction in my wake but I never look over my shoulder.

Should you fear me? Absolutely. Sadly, for you, you don’t know what to look for because I do not come into your life bearing a warning. Once I have emotionally slain you, only then might you recognise the danger a second time but of course, by that point the damage is done. Amazingly, some of you come back for more. Incredible isn’t it? Sometimes it is with me or sometimes with another of my kind. The effect is the same however. Another excruciating death.

The beauty of all of this is that nobody can touch me. Those who might try to bring the sanction of criminal penalties against me usually fail. They either won’t do it because they still love me or that somehow they think they can save me and they would rather do that. There are others who are so broken they blame themselves and not me. Others again are so utterly destroyed they do not have the strength to take action. The very few that do not fall at these hurdles soon realise that my innate charm, my myriad of lies and irresistible powers of persuasion mean that actually getting the criminal law to apply to me is nigh on impossible. It is only right. The rules are not meant for me.

All of this means that next to nobody recognises my kind when we first choose you. Why would you? We bear no mark or label. We do not appear as some stereotype. We do not look like abusers but then what do abusers look like? They look like me. Him. Her. That man sat across from you on the train in his suit reading a quality broadsheet. The headmistress who crochets around the clock and is a committed Christian. The abuser looks like the construction worker downing his gallon of beer before weaving his way home. He looks like the quiet neighbour. The shy teenager. The earnest music teacher. The gregarious uncle. Him. Her. Them. You do not see us coming. You had no chance. Society repeatedly fails to identify what we are and how we operate. It downplays what we do with a host of euphemisms and woolly descriptions because people cannot accept that somebody who is so pleasant to them can then be so horrible too. Yet, that is precisely how we operate. Would you trust someone who punched you in the face when they first me you? Of course not. You’d trust him after three years of marriage before the first blow landed though wouldn’t you? You would not trust the fraudster if he stole ten thousand pounds on his first day at work, but after five years of solid and loyal service you would not think twice that he was forging signatures and diverting funds to his personal bank account. Society and people are too ready to apply labels which diminish the impact of what we do and what we are. You can attest to the horrendous damage that we do, you know better than anybody else of the impact that we have and yet you have to listen to people talking about how he is “misunderstood”, “under pressure”, “not normally like that”, “must have been provoked”. These well-intentioned people cause considerable damage as the ignorant apologists for the carnage we unleash.

Now you know what we are, you can identify us with ease. You can now think back to all the people you have interacted with and now you see us as if we have been daubed in bright red paint. Your colleague at work. The “difficult” customer. Your mother. Your brother. That friend who upset you one week and then fawned over you the next. The lovers. The celebrities. The politicians. More and more of us are identified by you and yet still we are able to do what we want and move on to the next unsuspecting victim. Society does not identify us. Society does not understand what we are. Society is utterly ineffective in tackling us. Our numbers are growing and our devastating impact on the lives of all those we entangle (and it is never just the one person is it) grows but what is being done? Do the politicians know us (save when they look in the mirror)? Do the police officers understand what we are? The nurses? The social workers? The judges? The court appointed psychiatrist? The jury? The neighbours? The teachers? The local government officials? All those who might be able to do something to address what we are rarely know what we are leading to greater frustration for you and the continued advancement of our agendas.

Nobody is stopping us.

What are you going to do about it?


9 thoughts on “The March of the LoveFrauds

  1. Anonymous says:

    I feel nothing for my narc except Disgust. Pure, unadulterated Disgust. I guess that is a good thing.

  2. Yolo says:

    The lesser is homeless and sleeps outside his job. He managed to keep his job, he’s burnt so many bridges. He work the gym looking for prospects. Somatic lesser victim that thrives off drama. I suspect the matrinarc is giving him silent treatment too. Pathetic piece of crap.

  3. Noname says:

    We all know the myth about Narcissus. He fell in love with himself. He put himself in the center of the world. Nothing mattered to him anymore aside of him. Everything had to revolve around him. It is the concept of Narcissism.

    The Narcissists want nothing aside of LOVE and VALIDATION, and their lives are the long story of gaining of all of those things. They aren’t intentionally malignant, they don’t want to destroy the people intentionally. Everything they want is a love and a validation. Their abuse is a side effect of the grandiose self-love and the various attempts to get the love and validation from others.

    The Narcissists are insatiable, because the curse of this disorder is an inability to satisfy their needs for love and validation on psychical and even physical level. They’ll never get “enough” of love and validation to be happy. Mythical Narcissus stared at his reflection untill he died.


    The myth about Narcissus isn’t applicable to Sociopaths/Psychopaths. Yes, they have a pretty high level of the self-love (narcissistic component), but not desire to get love and validation drives them. Their “pleasure” is YOUR PAIN/”DEATH”. The process and the end result of destruction (“killing”) on all levels (psychical, physical, financial, social, etc.) is what that gives them the THRILL and EXCITEMENT they desperately need for “normal functioning”. They rise you high to let you down and your gradual “falling journey” is what that gives them the “pleasure” and save them from the nagging boredom and fearful depression.

    The Greek mythology has another interesting myth about a half-god-half-human Tantalus. He was a son of Zeus and Plouto (nymph). He was naturally respected by gods and people. But he betrayed the gods’s trust by his malignant deals (revealed the divine secrets to people, theft, murder) and his father Zeus finally cursed him.

    Tantalus was sent to Tartarus. Tantalus was “tantalized” with hunger and thirst in Tartarus for an eternity: he was immersed up to his neck in water, but when he bent to drink, it all drained away; delicious fruits hunged on trees above him, but when he reached for them, the wind blew the branches beyond his reach. Also, there was a rock hunging over his head ready to fall and crush him in any moment. So aside of insatiable hunger and thirst, Tantalus lives in a constant fear of an imminent death (eternal oblivion) also.

    Tantalus’s “life” reminds me the Sociopath’s/Psychopath’s life: the malignant deals (pervertive sex, drugs, social dramas, criminal activity, etc.), the constant and insatiable hunger and thirst for “fuel” – thrill and excitement (because of the nagging boredom and inability to be happy with a simple things) and the fear of final oblivion (to be forgotten and ignored – the sign of a narcissistic component).

    “I think that the hunger can be sated but somehow, it never seems to be the case”…

    Tudor, dear man, do something, do impossible to abolish your “Tantalus fate”. Heal yourself. Change that myth. And, have a long, happy and peacful life.

    Merry Christmas.

  4. demoneater says:

    What is the worst thing you could do to a narc? I mean what would bring them the most pain and anguish? In my opinion, murder is not an option (too easy). But what if you really wanted to make one suffer?

  5. demoneater says:

    Surely some narcs have been murdered in cold blood for what they’ve done. I am sure that some get theirs.

  6. Gareth says:

    What can be done about except no contact

    1. Fern Mills says:

      You tell me. What can I ,me , one lone broken ,bitter person . No contact has been in motion for close to 3 months. I haven’t looked on social media,googled or been anywhere near this beast.YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO ABOUT STOPPING HIM.
      I think he will eventually implode,he is his own worst enemy. Well,maybe not…..
      He cannot fool God .He is arrogant enough to think so though.

    2. Sophia says:

      Read his book Reveng, it’s good. You’ll get details on how to topple them and why it works.

    3. Noname says:

      A self-work, Gareth:

      1. “Know thyself”. Know what and who you are. Know your strengths and your weaknesses. Know what you do want and, especially, what you don’t want from this life.

      2. Accept yourself as you are and live in peace with that knowledge. Don’t permit any validation or criticism to define and change your self-esteem and self-worth. You are as you are. Keep your own boundaries.

      3. Respect yourself. Respect your body and your soul.

      4. Do what you always dreamed to do, but never had a time for that (read, write, travel, paint, gardening, etc.).

      5. Communicate with an empathic and positive people.

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