Knowing the Narcissist : The Asylum of the Grotesque : Sarah
As the season shifted from the warm embrace of summer to the crisp coolness of autumn, a picturesque countryside scene unfolded. The vibrant mélange of orange, red, and yellow hues painted a captivating panorama against the backdrop of the rolling hills and stretching fields.
Leaves, like tiny artists’ brushes, delicately coated each tree, adorning them in a palette of fiery shades. As the wind danced through the branches, the vibrant foliage rustled, releasing a symphony of subtle whispers. It is as if nature itself sought to express its elegance, capturing the essence of the changing seasons.
Sunlight, soft and golden, bathed the landscape, illuminating the canvas with a warm, ethereal glow. With each passing day, the intensity of the light subtly diminished, casting long shadows that slowly stretched their slender fingers across the earth. The slow descent of the sun painted an ever-changing portrait, creating a kaleidoscope of shadows and highlights.
The countryside, once adorned with blooming flowers and lush greens, embraced a different kind of beauty in autumn. Fields that were once carpets of emerald transformed into tapestries of earthy tones. Stalks of grass, now ripened and golden, swayed gently in the wind, adding a rustic charm to the scene.
. The air radiated a pleasant crispness, carrying with it the subtle scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. The symphony of sounds from summer was gradually replaced by a more subdued chorus: the distant chatter of migrating birds, the fluttering of wings, and the soft scurrying of animals preparing for the approaching winter.
Nearby a solitary apple tree stood adorned with red and green baubles, its branches heavy with fruit. It was, many years ago a place that Sarah and I would often walk to and then sit or lie beneath its canopy, a blanket beneath us and sometimes a blanket over Sarah if the winter chill was beginning to make its presence felt more readily. Sarah loved being in the countryside and autumn was her favourite season.
One afternoon as I sat, my back against the trunk of the tree and Sarah lay draped across me, she looked out across the fields and copses and said, almost dreamily,
“Imagine all of this with no humans, all gone or never existed.”
“Easily done,” I said with a conclusive tone. I felt Sarah flinch.
“ You don´t like people really do you?” she asked.
“ No.”
She sat up now, pulling a blanket about her shoulders as if my words had chilled her rather than the autumnal air.
“Why? Why do you not like people?” she asked. Her eyes appeared filled with sorrow. Was she sorry for my disdain for humans?
“You know, I often picture myself regarding the sorry plight of humanity from a vantage point, perched on a gnarled, obsidian throne, I witness the feeble existence of these flawed creatures who walk upon the earthly plane.
Humans, with their frail bodies and boundless desires, are a ripe source of both amusement and frustration for one such as I. They scurry about, driven by their insatiable hunger for power, pleasure, and purpose. Their lives caught in a perpetual struggle, teetering between the heights of joyous triumph and the depths of devastating defeat.
What truly astounds me is their unrelenting capacity for self-destruction. Like moths drawn to a flickering flame, they willingly plunge themselves into the abyss, deceived by their own delusions of grandeur and the false promises of their desires. They trade the purity of their souls for fleeting moments of gratification, ignorant of the inevitable debts that accumulate upon their ledger.
Humans are but slaves to their own desires. Their insatiable cravings shape their reality, molding their very existence into mere puppets of banality and shallow pursuits. They are possessed by a moral vacuum, their consciences clouded by the ceaseless pursuit of pleasure, power, and self-interest..
In their pursuit of power, humans become consumed by ambition. Driven by an insatiable thirst for authority and control, they unleash their most savage and ruthless instincts. They grasp desperately at the reins of dominion, lusting after the intoxicating elixir of influence. Mindless of the consequences, they trample upon one another, oblivious to the ruination they bring upon their fellow kindred souls.
Their lust for pleasure is equally confounding. They immerse themselves in decadence, seeking solace in the ecstatic possession of material treasures. Intoxicated by the seductive allure of worldly pleasures, they recklessly indulge in a ceaseless pursuit of fleeting delights, becoming entangled in the web of their own desires. Yet, they remain consummate imposters in their pursuit of the permanence that forever eludes them.
And what is it that drives this mortal pursuit, you may ask? A desire to satiate their insatiable longing for purpose. That is what distinguishes me from them, I know my purpose, but they are always seeking a meaning in life, a sign, a purpose. Humans are perpetually wandering souls, lost within the labyrinth of their own minds, grasping for meaning amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their ephemerality. They dance upon the stage of existence, actors in a cosmic play without a script, yearning for significance beyond their mere dust-born origins.
Even their shallowness is a curious marvel. They judge and are judged by the superficiality of appearances, hiding their true essence behind masks of societal acceptance. Driven by an insidious need for validation, they become enmeshed within a tapestry of deception, subverting their authenticity in a desperate hope to be seen and acknowledged by their fellow misguided humans.
And yet, within all of this, mess, there exists the humans’ capacity to love and to believe. Their capacity for boundless compassion, selfless acts of kindness, and undying loyalty sits at such odds with their mindless wandering.
Though their mortal journey is riddled with folly and missteps, they have the audacity to hope, to persist even amidst the darkest shadows of despair. Their indomitable spirit lends them a unique paradox , casting ethereal light upon their otherwise unremarkable existence. It amuses me, this unwavering belief in something more, something transcendent, as if their mortal shackles inexplicably connect them to a higher power.
Humans are a mosaic of paradoxes, an elaborate tapestry of contradictions which makes them all the more entertaining notwithstanding their foolishness.”
Sarah sighed. It was not, I think, a sigh of frustration or despair, but rather one of acknowledgement.
“I know, but that is what makes us so beautiful and I include you in that, HG,” she replied as she lay against me again.
I snorted but let the matter lie there on this late September afternoon, there would be time enough to revisit this miscategorisation of me. Time enough.
23 thoughts on “Knowing the Narcissist : The Asylum of the Grotesque : Sarah”
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See! Faulty footers are less than ideal.
*more sense than
Yeah. HG lactated red wine out one breast, white out the other, crossed streams and almost ruined Rosé for me.
Just from a biological design standpoint, it seems like personality built on a foundation of full executive function makes more sense trying to build the penthouse on faulty footers.
What tits?! Sophie & Gertrude have been waiting since tweens to mature into womanly tits. I don’t have the heart to tell them its just not going to happen. Let them dream.
Funny! Speaking of tits, there is a psychologist I believe her name is Melanie Klein and She wrote a book, some rely on narcissism that some believe forms at 0-36 months. HG says 0-9 which makes more sense to me as the brain is growing and memories formed and input received. But I question: how do they know what an enfant is thinking? What if the enfant is just drinking breast milk and thinking “ yummy” as to both? Anyone have any theories or input? Babies are abused and neglected. I read a study of babies rarely held but fed and sheltered, orphans in Russia I think, and these children had personality disorders AND biological and brain disabilities. I know babies not held can literally die. So yes, traumatizing a baby can lead to mental AND physical health issues but I just feel narcissism must form later as for most babies they are held by the mother and fed and certainly a neglectful mother could frustrate a baby, I would think formation would come later as the core identity is subjected to more experiences and memories.
Melanie Klein, a pioneering psychoanalyst, introduced the concept of “good breast” and “bad breast” in her object relations theory. This theory is central to understanding early emotional development and how infants perceive the world around them.
Here’s a brief explanation:
1. **Good Breast**: In an infant’s perception, the “good breast” represents nourishment, comfort, and positive feelings. When the infant’s needs are met, they associate the breast with these positive experiences, leading to feelings of love and trust toward the caregiver.
2. **Bad Breast**: Conversely, the “bad breast” symbolizes frustration, deprivation, and negative feelings. When needs are not met, the infant experiences feelings of anger, fear, and resentment toward the breast, projecting these negative experiences onto it.
Klein’s theory highlights how these early experiences shape an infant’s psyche and their later emotional development. The oscillation between the perceptions of the “good” and “bad” breast forms the basis of the infant’s emerging ability to integrate good and bad aspects of themselves and others, which is crucial for healthy emotional development.
Anyone agree or disagree like me? Why?
I think HG is right and other psychologists think later. I don’t think anyone knows for certain. ?
Hi Contagious,
With regard to Melanie Klein, I haven’t read much of her work, however, I recently came across a very good article about the psychology behind family scapegoating and the reference material for this article was noted as ‘The Writings of Melanie Klein’.
For anyone interested in the article about scapegoating, the article details are:
Title: ‘Projective Identification in the Narcissistic Family – The psychology of family scapegoating.’
Author: Julie L. Hall
Date: 20 February, 2023
Located on the website: PsychologyToday.com
After reading the article above, I had a brief look at information about Melanie Klein. She is well-known for her research about childhood psychology and in particular her theories regarding object relations.
I didn’t read much of Klein’s work itself because I found some of her explanations of early childhood thought processes a little far-fetched. Although, from what I have read, I think her object relations theory is very good and still has relevance.
When it comes to a ‘good breast’ and a ‘bad breast’ and a baby feeling love and hate or frustration or persecutory feelings, I think that the nervous systems and brains of babies are too underdeveloped for them to be able to react to their mothers in these ways.
Instead, I think that babies have emotional responses – like crying or squirming or smiling or gurgling – that are determined by whether they feel comfort or discomfort.
A baby wants to feel connected to his or her mother because that is the way the baby will stay safe, cared for, and comforted. A baby will adapt his or her behaviour in order to maintain closeness with the mother.
Melanie Klein’s research predates the research that culminated in attachment theory. Research that is more recent still has made inroads into understanding the nervous system and how feelings of safety, vulnerability and threat influence childhood behaviour, growth and learning.
If research and theoretical understanding about childhood psychology over the past hundred years is considered as a timeline with each phase of the timeline evolving into more advanced knowledge, then I think Melanie Klein’s research and theories are important as an evolutionary phase, so to speak, rather than a thoroughly accurate description of what happens in a baby’s thinking and behaviour.
I agree with you completely. Excellent analysis on Klein!
Thank you, Contagious. It’s kind of you to say so, and thanks also for raising the topic.
Shut the fuck up bitch. This man does not give two shits about your intelligent verbiage, he just wants to see your tits
On the contrary: The game is to gradually increase the frequency and intensity of demonstrating a lack of shits, and then observe with delight the limits of mistreatment she will tolerate whilst still granting access to her aforementioned assets.
Assets? I would love to acquire assets.
First thing I’d invest my assets in is a lovely pair of tits. Nothing too grandiose though. Already have to mind my back.
Good Afternoon. What tits? I wish I had tits! Push-up bras are too hot.
Are you sure you are attributing the intelligent verbiage to the right person? If not, you might be more likely to look at some well-developed muscles, best case, or worst case, a pair of fists instead of tits.
Not that the fists in question would be a chore to look at, they are very attractive, I am sure, even without our Mr. T having them decorated with PITY and FOOL. Nevertheless, if provoked to bestir themselves, they might be leaving a rather unpleasant impression.
The Creature is not a lion or tiger or bear. He is inchoate radiation, baryonic matter, dark matter and dark energy subject to millenia of your unique ancestral forces. He is essentially human.
Can you send a diplomatic mission? It wouldn’t be pleasant. But if it was necessary to forge an alliance with the Creature to achieve the prime aims, what would you do?
Could you forge an alliance? How? It’s in the subconscious I think.
Not sure if its a possibility. The Creature is substantial enough to require imprisonment so what else might be possible? That’s why I asked The Ultra.
Dee, the Prime Aims, but include the result of keeping the Creature imprisoned. The whole process is just for the sake of the survival of the mechanism of keeping the Creature imprisoned. To forge an alliance with the Creature to achieve the Prime Aims wouldn’t make sense. Or I didn’t understand correctly what you meant by “an alliance with the Creature to achieve the prime aims”.
Life itself is the point. The journey is the purpose. Maturity gifts us appreciation for ambiguity, tree rings of knowing the seasonal cycles of the moon, tugging and pulling us along the way. Our triumphs and tragedies scatter seeds behind us until we turn around to face an unspeakably lovely field, weeds and all. No amount of brash certainty or careful planning in our younger days could have possibly conceived of the beauty that now lays behind.
Woah!! This is so beautiful!
…unspeakably lovely field, weeds and all…🧡🐝
Thank you. Sometimes you can’t get the weeds rooted out without further cracking and destabilizing the foundation. Besides. At times, weeds produce gorgeous flowers.
And I’ve learned that some weeds add to the health of the main plants (veggies) and should not all be removed… Isn’t it lovely how one can always use nature’s wisdom to also speak figuratively about other deeper meanings?!