Malice

There are times when the hatred, the vitriol and the malice can no longer be contained. They must be unleashed. Most often, this occurs as a consequence of the ignition of fury which arises as a response to the wounding which happens because we have been criticised. The ignited fury may, with those of us with greater control thresholds, be kept under control, especially if we are mindful of the impact it may have upon the facade. Sometimes, we cannot exert that control and heated or cold fury erupts from us, seeking to provoke a reaction from you and others which will draw fuel and in turn address the wound so the fury in time abates.

Then there are the times when there is a need to spread hurt, cause pain, to shock and to lash out.

It is not an uncontrolled and haphazard spewing forth of hatred, a dervish that lashes out at all around him or her, drawing looks of horror, hurt and annoyance. Such a frenzied response is one associated with the loss of control which occurs through the ignition of fury. This is a calculated exercise in drawing negative fuel for the purposes of letting this awful and treacherous world and its traitorous minions know that there is a blazing hatred at our core, a permanent state of malicious and venomous antipathy for everybody around us. We have no interest in donning a mask of charm or magnetism. There is no desire to present a facade on such occasions. Our seething, savage malcontent must emerge and be branded on all those who are unfortunate enough to cross our path.

It may start at any point in the day. It may be that on wakening we feel it there, the corrosive taint of malice which has to be allowed to surface. We may, in less experienced times, have thought that the provision of positive fuel would cause this sensation to lessen and to vanish, but it does not. For some reason, some deep and dark reason, only negative fuel will suffice. I have experienced this on several occasions. I now recognise it. It is the desire to destroy, to hurt, to maim and I know that until such time as I have drunk deep of the negative fuel that flows from such actions, I will not be able to stop and cause this sensation to vanish. I can feel it inside of me – it is not fury, but rather a visceral and powerful hatred for everything and everyone. A bilious sensation sat in my core and I must obey it. It is allied to the ever present hunger for fuel, but only negative will do. It is as if some ancient wrong can only ever be reconciled through the application of repeated wrongs, as if that historic crime has to be repeated and replicated in the here and now and in so doing, by giving it such an exposure and airing, release is achieved.

Something wicked from way back when must be allowed to manifest now.

And so the day is one of vicious behaviours. The morning greeting from the neighbour is met with an instruction to him to “get fucked” or to invite him to keep an eye on that “whore of his wife and her afternoon visitors”. His shocked response is seen from peripheral vision, the first drops of negative fuel trickling my way as I march to my vehicle  and enter it. The cocooning effect of the magnificent car does nothing to remove the malice. On the drive to the office, those talking on the radio are routinely lambasted for the idiocy – they cannot hear me but it does not matter – they must still be told. The window is lowered and a pair of young women walking along the road are shouted at, the single insult of “sluts” trailing after me as I drive past. The cyclist is pilloried for being a “latex clad wanker”, the person waiting at the zebra crossing jumps back as I fail to yield to them and give them the finger as I sail by.

Sat in idling traffic I endeavour to catch the eye of the driver behind or in front and goad them with hand gestures.

“Come on, come on, get out,” I hiss to myself, hoping they will emerge from their vehicle and challenge me. Just do it, give me the provocation I am looking for and I can unleash yet more of this malice which is surging through me. Today they perhaps see what glints in my darkened eyes and do no more than retaliate with their own gestures before the traffic moves on and we become separated.

The barista in the cafe asks for my order and my name in that ridiculous manner of theirs. All I want is tea, not some imported affectation of a grand ho cho or some ridiculous coffee which is whipped, flavoured, syrup and sprinkled. I give the name “Farquhar” and say it in a tone which tells him that if he dares, if he fucking dares to ask me how to spell that name I will seize several of these over-priced muffins in the display and force them into his spluttering mouth one by one. He does not ask and his cake choking is avoided.

Of course when the beverage arrives, I see “Farkwar” daubed in the hand-writing of a five year old on the side. I lift the cup and speak,

“Excuse me,” I say coolly. The barista turns and looks at me. Already hesitation is gripping him.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Are you some kind of epsilon semi-moron.” I say. Although it should be a question, it sounds more like a statement as I point at the scrawl on the cup. He says nothing, unsure of what to say and what I will do.

“Is that wrong? I’m sorry,” he offers.

I hold his gaze, my dark glare boring into him as I contemplate setting alight his extensive beard. He looks away at the floor within a couple of seconds. I know everybody else in this store is looking at me. Good.

I shake my head.

“You should have tried harder at school you fucking quarter wit,” I announce and turn, shoving past those behind me. There are no protests.

And so it goes. The receptionist is told she looks slovenly when I enter the office. The office junior is snarled at to get out of the way. I find fault with everything that those working for me do. I draw tears from one annihilated associate as I subject him to a five minute tirade as to the inadequacies of his report, banishing him from my room as if exiling him from my kingdom. He is the third person who has entered my office and been subjected to my malice and it is not even mid-morning.

My secretary pokes her head around the door.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

I pause and look up from my computer and apply the charm of the smile.

“Absolutely great. Could not be better. First class. Tip top. Superb.” I confirm as I reel off a range of synonyms for all being well. Most will be branded with my malice today but not her. She is a loyal Lieutenant and this time she is exempt, besides, what better way to really mess with the heads of those beneath me is to have my secretary say,

“He was fine with me,” if they come crawling back trying to ascertain what is wrong.

E-mails receive curt replies. Those who telephone are subjected to a savage dissection of their proposal which leaves them speechless. Instructions are barked, injunctions issued and idiots torn apart. The malice remains, powering the nasty and unpleasant behaviours but never surging out of control. It is as if this malice recognises that it does some good to put some stick about, to let people know that they have to earn my grace and favour, that they ought to be on their toes, alert and mindful that their elevated position can be removed in an instant. Few ever challenge, most retreat horrified, alarmed and hurt. Those that do fight back but they are then subjected to fiercer malice as they are intimidated until they break away, muttering and still hurling insults. It matters not, it is all negative fuel.

In another place this malice would have manifested through the application of physical violence. The punches and kicks traded with those stroppy waxwork faces as part of the understanding that this is what happens in such an arena. In another place again, this malice would surface through the cruelty and humiliation of the one supposedly closest to me in the most intimate of settings. In yet another place, this malice would appear as the event wrecking ball, leaving nothing standing.

But today it happens in this place and this means that verbal abuse, insults, savage tongue, baleful glare and acidic responses are the appropriate ways in which the malice makes itself felt and draws of the negative fuel.

Some who are the recipients are strangers and our paths will not cross again. Others may regard me warily until the usual charm appears and they are put at ease. Most know better than to make it appear on another day through the ignition of fury. Occasionally there are those who will take it further. A demand for an apology, a raised grievance through formal channels and even a complaint to the authorities. In those rare instances the matter is dealt with through the restoration of persuasion and magnetism. A reward is offered to avoid the issue, charm negates the challenge or even a supposedly heart-felt apology is provided. They are, after all, just words and of course the relief, pleasure and gratitude espoused by the other person is all positive fuel, welcomed on the alternative occasion. There is not one who has been on the receiving end of the malice who cannot be brought back into line once again. All people have a price.

When this malice appears in this form, the entrenched and ancient right exercising its need to be aired, after a day of caustic comments, vicious volleys and sarcastic smiles, with the negative fuel swallowed up, I return and there is a beneficiary of all this vitriol. Having allowed the malice to be known, to let it stretch its legs and flex its muscles, it retreats, for now and as I arrive at your house or return to ours, you receive the positive side of this contrast for once. Even if you, as primary source, are being devalued, you will be given a sudden respite and the resurrection of the golden period. Your surprise and delight at its return brings forth the positive fuel in significant quantities and it washes over me, replacing the now receded malice. Your positive fuel is now required and thus the devaluation is halted as you are seen as a sanctuary of delight compared to those who have annoyed, irritated and crossed me during the day. It may not last long, but for today at least, the malice was given vent and now you benefit from its sustained application.

Even when I am malicious, I am good.

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33 Comments

  1. Your examples show that we cannot take it personally when a narcissist goes nuclear on us for no apparent reason. Words are tools, and no matter how personally they are designed to cut, the the narcissist doesn’t care enough about us to mean them. The ugly words mean no more to a narc than the pretty words. They are all just slung at the target for a reaction. Whether it’s a positive reaction craved or a negative one, it’s all a manipulation for his gratification. It has nothing to do with the target, personally, at all.

    1. Almost correct BO, but good observations. It is all a manipulation for control. The narcissist means them in that moment, but they have no longevity because one moment later they may well have dissipated into the ether and replaced with different words. You are correct not to take it personally and instead logical thinking should be utilised to state “he said this because he is a narcissist and it is not genuine.” Of course people do take it personally because of :-
      1. A lack of proper information about narcissism
      2. Heightened emotional thinking.
      3. The imposition of their own world view.

  2. I still find it incredible that you’re not embarrassed to behave that way. One of the narcs in my life used to yell and swear at wait staff in public and I would apologize for him and then pretend not to know him. It was horrible.

      1. Do narcissists ever feel embarrassed? Or only furious? Ie if either they did something (we empath would perceive as embarrassing or they were with the IPPS and they did something we would perceive as embarrassed. If not embarrassment what would they feel? A lack of control?

        1. No.
          The response will be of asserting the need for control, which is through a form of benign or malign manipulation.

  3. HG it seems like you’re the one being controlled …..and in the worst way. What an awful way to live. At the risk of again being seen as simple and unsophisticated your description sounds like a demon posession. I pray one day you will face that devil and with God’s help kick him to the curb. Modern society is too sophisticated for the basic truths in the Bible. And many have been exposed to a very distorted version of Christianity. So I’m not at all surprised or perturbed that there will be mockers coming this way…

    1. You are entitled to your views J&L, there is no heavenly saviour and there is no demonic possession.

      1. I hear you HG but I’m never giving up -but you know that already. I won’t bug you though ( I hear someone saying yaaay!), because unlike a Narcissist and his/ her victim, salvation is about conscious decision.

  4. Pingback: Malice ⋆ NarcTopia
  5. Its an inaccessable wound from childhood. Something that is buried in your subconscious that is unresolved. You were unable to heal from it because you were too young to process whatever it is that happened. So at times other things that arent quite so bad but touch on that repressed wound in some way, cause a reaction that seems out of place. Yeah I think most people are repressed now. Some of the trauma I think, even occurs in the womb

    https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IIA1XQnAv5s

    You already know this stuff. I’m just starting to figure it out.

    Thank you

  6. Watch out for those baristas. If they recognize you on a repeat visit, some of them are not above spitting in your triple vente gluten-free mal-de-mer.

  7. When I first started reading this, I felt sorry for you and was glad that I didn’t have to “try to walk a day in your shoes.”

    Then I read ” “latex clad wanker”,

    I laughed out loud and thought to myself, “He’s done it again. He’s taken a serious subject and explained it to us in a clever & witty way. “The Master” has scored again.”

    I’m still chuckling over your “Jaws” ringtone. Perfect.

    1. So this malice is caused from childhood abuse? And therapy doesn’t help? Do you forgive those who abused you? There’s nothing to do to stop these feelings?

        1. Does your mom recognize what she is? Have you two ever discussed narcissism and how she molded you into this?

          1. Didn’t she pop in on this forum years ago? You may have been joking with someone when you called her “mum”, I don’t remember.

            Are you NC with her (or other family members) due to your narcissism or due to their narcissism?

          2. No, it was not my mother who popped in. I wrote that as a joke.

            I am not no contact with her, although I have as little to do with her as possible, ditto my uncle and a cousin. Other family members I interact with more often although even then I do not see a lot of them owing to the full nature of my professional and private lives.

          3. Does your family know about the good doctors? Or do they know about the inheritance contingency? Do they know you are a narcissistic psychopath?

            I am being nosy. I always wondered what would happen once the contingency had been met. Will you continue here, or does it get repetitive over time?

          4. Dearest HG: Adding on to Becoming Observant`s questions: It is not necessary for a Narcississt to go No Contact, really, is it? I know empaths need to implement No Contact as much as possible, but is it still called No Contact when a Narcississt avoids another Narcississt? I do know if I am asking this question correctly. I am trying to ask, is the technical term No Contact applicable when a Narcississt avoids another Narcississt? In short, I thought that the regimes of No Contact and GOSO, etc. were only applicable to empaths avoiding Narcissists and not Narcissists avoiding Narcissists. That empaths need to go No Contact, while Narcississt just may decide to avoid certain people.

          5. Dearest HG: Yes! I see now: It is called a `Silent Treatment.` lol. Of course.. Thank you.

        2. HG, would you say that your malice is an outward expression of your inner N experience? In your new dynamic, have you found new ways to satisfy your malice needs that prove satisfying, yet are more prosocial thereby enabling you, in some ways, to be more effective?

          1. Hello FYC,

            My malice is an outward expression of what lies at the core of me.
            Being prosocial does not satisfy malice. When malice occurs nothing can stop it.

            In any given situation I may respond with

            1. Benign response
            2. Malign response
            3. Malicious response (Malign Plus if you will)
            4. Withdraw

            Being prosocial tackles 2, it will not tackle 3.

          2. Hello HG. Thank you for your very candid and illuminating reply regarding how you experience malice. I feel there is far more at the nucleus of your core, but I do not question in the least what you have shared or experience. It is very fortunate for all that you also possess such immense control.

    2. Surf, I was laughing too! I was trying to think who I could use it on but I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face.

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