I want to own you.
I want to draw you into my world. A world where my rules are the only rules that matter. When I first set eyes on you I make it my business to ascertain your suitability for ownership. You might only be owned in the sense of being a tertiary source which I interact with the once, but in that moment, I own you and I own the fuel that flows from you.
I wish to brand you as my property. My appliance. My plaything. I own you and this means that nobody else does. I have exclusive rights.
I may designate you the role of secondary source, should you make the grade and you become mine, subject to the unwritten contract that governs you and I. You are to be loyal, obedient, compliant and a provider of fuel.
If you are to be my primary source, that coveted position of supplier-in-chief of the most precious and desired fuel then you also must be owned. You must be subjected to my total and hegemonic control. Once I decide that you are the one, I will not stop. Once that light has turned green, once the first tantalising drops of your fuel have begun to be sucked up by me, there is no hope for anything else.
You must be mine. I must own you.
You at first think that I look on you with love-lorn eyes. Indeed I do as I turn my precious orbs into the mirrors which give you what you want to see. Behind their silvery gaze, my machined machinations are forming. I am absorbing how you smile, how your wrinkle your nose, how you play with your hair on the left hand side of your head, never the right. I listen to the way you say ‘scone’ – do you say it so it rhymes with tone or with gone? Every word that will come from your mouth will belong to me. I want to know everything about you. Every facet of your life must now belong to me. When my hand touches you and you feel that jolt of electricity between you and me, that is my connection with you as I begin to download your life.
It is true that I have already screened you, probed your life from a distance, made enquiries and observed before launching my take-over bid. I have done my homework but now I want to dominate, conquer and subsume. I must envelop you in my world for then I can be sure that you will respond as I require. Loyal, reliable and functional.
Steadily I drain your identity from you, consuming it for my own use. This is part of the process of owning you. I know no boundaries, I see no limits, I recognise no restraint. I have decided that you are to belong to me and thus this is what must happen with the steady and incremental accumulation of what you are. I am plugged into you, the ultimate parasite which sucks the life from you. Your money becomes my money, your house becomes my house, your friends become my appliances. There is no real me. There is no substance and thus I must steal what you are in order to give the appearance of substance.
The only way I understand to do this is to own you. Make you part of the fabricated world that I have woven. This dazzling fiction fools so readily and as I part the curtain and beckon you in to my wonder land, you accept and once inside you become mine. The real world is left behind. The real world of rules, standards, procedures and fairness is no longer applicable to you. I own you now and as a consequence you are subject to my capricious nature, the arbitrary application of my diktats and pronouncements. None of it will make any sense to you when you start to realise what it happening but it will be too late by then. Your assimilation into me will be so far gone that you may just well scream and the only voice you will hear will be mine.
My ownership means I tell you who to speak to and who to ignore. My ownership means that dress is wrong and that one is right until it is the other way around. Yesterday is tomorrow which becomes today. You think Josef K endured the Kafkaesque nightmare of nothing making sense? You ain’t seen nothing yet.
I must control everything. My space, time and the environment around you. This is why to you I seem to operate as if I have no concept of time, but that is because I do not operate to Greenwich Mean Time but rather Being Mean Time. I compartmentalise, shifting between worlds which must never connect, where the players and actors inside of them move to my direction. They dance to the tune that my invisible piper plays. I must not leave anything to chance. I do not like chance. It is the ruin of me. I want predictable and eventually you will come to realise that there are few who are as predictable as my kind. We bring excitement, we bring chaos, we bring drama but it is all so predictable. The same manipulations, just variations on a theme. Some of us have more strings to our dark cupid’s bow, but the poisoned arrows we fire all have the same effects. Control and fuel.
It is only by ensuring that we own you that we can be assured and convinced that you will do as we want you to, that you will not be disloyal or a traitor to us. We must plug you in to us and like some giant leech suck the very essence from you, taking your fuel, your confidence, your self-worth, your self-esteem and stripping you of them to ensure there is compliance and obedience.
I want to own so that I know I will win. I want to own you so I can exist.
I want to own you so that everything you do is as consequence of my decisions and my actions which ensure you provide me with my lifeblood whenever I demand it. You are on call and on demand, my primary source of salvation, the reason for my existence and I dare not allow the slightest chink of autonomy for fear of losing that control.
I want to own you to underline my superiority. I want to own you to remind myself that I am powerful. I want to own you so that it is repeatedly highlighted that I am the controller.
I want to own you to stop being the slave that I am.
38 thoughts on “Own”
I felt owned, possessed and it made me feel secure and loved. I was protected, nurtured by, essential to my Narc. I believed we were soul mates, meant to be, I trusted their opinions and believed they looked out for me and after me.
Everything in fact that was the polar opposite of the truth.
I’m not codependent…. my mother and I had a relationship not unlike the above… she SO loved me and she sadly died.
Post discard was, among all the head fuckery, a bereavement similar to that of losing my mum. The physical pain and ache for the lack of my most trusted person.
That it had all been lies, was self serving, cruel and callous fakery , took an age to process.
I have avowed never to be owned again.
My mind is autonomous these days and is staying that way.
Thank-you Sharon for sharing; that was funny.
In my situation – I won’t give specific examples – but my narc and I were kind of stuck together. I definitely wasn’t under any golden illusions at the time but narc also struggled to gain negative fuel from me. I recall, one day, just saying straight-forward to him (before I really knew what narcissism is): What do you want from me? You’d be happy if I just stood here and argued with you, wouldn’t you!?
Our lifestyle at the time didn’t allow anyone to escape easily, lol – so now I know why he had no choice but to buck up and learn new and useful skills – so I could go “Ooh, aw” at them. He wasn’t getting much else. And they were impressive skills; ones that most could generate a career out of. Just not my narc!
WHO CARES, TALK ABOUT FUNNY STORIES,4YEARS WITH MY MALE NARCISSIST FRIEND HE,S A LESSER NARCISSIST,HOLY SHIT, WOW I NOW HAVE SEEN EVERYTHING ,HEARD EVERYTHING , WHAT AN EDUCATION IN HELL !🐂 🐺🐏!
You can be owned in many different ways. People pleasing is a form of being owned bc you cant express your true self. You go with the popular opinion and try to please those who are in “control”. Ive been owned in the way that ive had a hard time not being able to say no at times and in a way people pleasing.
Im proud to say im owning my own opinions and thoughts. I used to second guess them afraid to express how i really feel for fear of it being wrong or not liked. No longer am i that way. If someone doesnt like what i say thats their problem. I want to be myself and not a mould of what i think people want me to be. Thats being owned.
Narc Affair, I completely agree with you on this. Very well said! So glad you are taking ownership back of your thoughts. It’s empowering to do so.
Ty mary its very liberating! Like the narc not being a true self when you follow and never voice your true thoughts youre not being true to yourself and you dont stand for what you believe in.
Annnnnnd I was hoovered via a text from the ex N’s apparent new phone number.. “hey, just checking in on you. How you been”…BLOCKED! Silly little narc. The audacity. For all those who say they will never be hoovered… here ya have it! They will go to any lengths & measures including getting a new phone number that you havent blocked((eyeroll))
But you’ve said, elsewhere, at you’re aware that appliances will eventually fail you…and the golden period is to bind and learn ways to use their vulnerabilities to your advantage. And seeking those who have a past wound of some kind is like built-in obsolescence, is it not? And then when you build up the facade so exquisitely that the fall during devaluation is that much more harsh it is akin to building in planned obsolescence, no? You know that eventually they will fail to fuel you; you’ve stated elsewhere that it cannot be avoided, you get bored etc…unless you really truly believe that ‘this one’ or the next one will never cease to give fuel…
No, because the infatuation of the golden period and its associated emotional thinking shoves aside the logic of that impending failure.
So, Greaters are capable of losing sight of logic as well?
Like a child running for a bright balloon. Almost catching it, but a brighter one comes along and distracted, off they go in the other direction. Completely forgetting the first balloon. Scattered, running around.
And so you do not “feel” love but you “feel” infatuated with the lure of fresh fuel and we are infatuated with what we believe to be love or the idea of love.
HG, I never realized that Greaters are also swept away in the infatuation, and had assumed it was an act to get the target hooked. I wonder if that is also why it feels so real to the target. We are not only told what is necessary to hook us, but we also sense a genuine intoxicated feeling from the narc? It’s just that they are in love with fuel and we think it’s actually us?
Well it is all an illusion, generated by the infatuation.
Thank you for clarifying about the infatuation/illusion, HG.
You are welcome.
“I want to own you to stop being the slave that i am”…youll always be a slave bc you never face your demons. You never try to fix the underlying problems instead you slap an empath bandaide on it but your wounds keep oozing and you keep needing more bandaides. You use us as your crutches in life. We make you feel good and in turn you do the same for us…when it suits you and its never real.
Youre a prisoner in your own body. Your happiness is manufactured and is short lived bc it comes from others and never yourself.
You dont own yourself. Thats the crux of the matter you dont know who the hell you are so you collage pieces of your sources to create an alter identity but you know deep down and youre deeply ashamed…the wound its oozing again better slap a bandaide on that.
Who owns who really? We give up our power to you and is a choice. Once we decide to take back ownership you no longer own. The power lies with us in the end. We decide if you own our time, who we talk to, what fuel we give you and if we even give you the time of day. You dont get your fuel you start to crumble we dont get your abuse and we start to thrive and strengthen. Who owns who here?
“Once we decide to take back ownership you no longer own.”
I enjoyed your words here.
I like your post.👍
(Unfortunately these days I can’t use the like button without creating a WordPress account.)
Hi debbiewolf and who cares…ty 🙂 im able to use my like button but i have a wordpress acct. I miss the old like system when you could see who liked whose posts.
“Who owns who here?”
Narc affair – I realized now, in reading your statement, that in my own situation my narc had no choice but to adapt to continue receiving any kind of fuel from me. Because he was not getting much in terms of positive or negative emotional fuel (from me anyway) and some of his choices now make sense because he did get some fuel in the form of admiration for some things that he did. But in the end he could never sustain those things…
WHO CARES I TOLD MY NARCISSIST FRIEND YESTERDAY I Was BUYING A 1983 COVERABLE 2,000.00 $ ,HE WENT EVERY WHERE LOOKING FOR IT,HE WENT NUTS ALL DAY MISSED WORK ,I FELT GOOD , HE CALLED , STOPPED BY , ONLY LATER TO FIND OUT HE WANTED THE INFORMATION SO HE COULD FIND THE SELLER AND BUY IT FOR HIM SELF😀😁😂 ! ONLY PROVES WHAT I HAVE LEARNED FROM (H.G.)🐺🐏!
Narc affair, Go super you <3
“I wish to brand you as my property. My appliance. My plaything. I own you and this means that nobody else does. I have exclusive rights.”
HG – do Greaters factor in planned obsolescence, or do they create it?
…wait – of course, the answer is both.
“HG – do Greaters factor in planned obsolescence, or do they create it?
…wait – of course, the answer is both.”
!! Sorry it was just my first thought that came to mind.
Hello HG, another excellent read, thank you.
As I’m sure you’re aware, you’re last sentence is intriguing, would you mind clarifying, who/what are you a slave to?
Thank you. The rhythm.
Actually it’s fuel.
Hehehe… remember to pull up to the bumper before you go walking in the rain.
HG–Do your girlfriends actually let you dress them and tell them who their friends should be???
I can see if you’re going to a big event and the dress code is formal attire and you ask her to dress accordingly. Do you, however, dictate what they should wear on a continual basis?
It reminds me of the movie about the Stepford Wives. The premise of the movie was that women were molded into the so-called”perfect wife” and ultimately they lost their sense of self.
Although my perspective is different then yours–your articles are very insightful and I have passed the information along. 🙂
“I want to own you to stop being the slave that I am.”
This sentence was touching.
My reaction to it has been that I wish that I could give you a hug with the intention of good wishes. Good wishes for you being well, wishing that you could overcome that pain of being a slave of yourself and finally finding some freedom.
The same feelings that I am finally starting to feel again…
Of couse!! It is fuel!! I see.. thank you!!
Smashing article again HG. Well said.
Reading this I was checking off things in my mind. Especially the clothing part. I was literally verbally told by the lesser i dated “I own you woman”. My facebook was scrutinised for every post and told my posts are a reflection of HIM. Was grabbed and bitten on the the leg one day drawing blood and told “its mine and I can do whatever I want”. You arent kidding they think they own you.
Supply and demand.
Supply on demand!!!
Mr Marshall would be impressed with your preposition substitution.
Thanks for the chuckle