Knowing the Narcissist : I Am Empty. I Show You What You Want To See

There is a vast emptiness inside of me.
Whatever was meant to be there is not there and instead this chasm remains, an expansive void that is dark, deep and perpetual. I remain ahead of this void because it wants to consume me and in so doing consign me to oblivion. This relentless black hole wants to devour me, breaking down all that I have achieved and crushing them into nothingness, a final insult against me as I disappear without trace. A terrible matter to contemplate that as this extinction is aimed at me is the prospect of never having mattered, never having existed and never having made a mark on the world. To be erased in an instant, obliterated and deleted.
I am fearless in all that I do, save that is this void, this nothing which is the architect of one total fear. It is against this constant fate that I drive forward. You see, hurled into this void is The Creature and he is scrabbling to escape it so that with dreadful suicidal intent he can wrap his sinewy arms about me, his yellowed and sharpened teeth plunging into my neck, his venom paralysing me as he gurgles and giggles, hauling me backwards off the precipice and into the void, the pair of us plummeting into oblivion.
That must not happen.
In order to keep him deep, deep down in the void it is necessary to imprison him and keep his vile and seditious whispers silenced. This means filling the void. Imagine he lurks at its very deepest point. He wishes to keep the void as it is. Vast and empty, since by doing so he will be able to then clamber out and grab me, dragging me down back into the void. He needs the void to be just that. He needs emptiness so he can reach out of it unhindered. He needs the void to be just that. He needs emptiness so he can destroy me through its unrelenting absence of anything.
I cannot have emptiness.
This void must be filled and it is filled with fuel. Each piece of fuel places a layer within the void and behind each layer The Creature becomes imprisoned. Oh he will wail and protest but as those layers become thicker and more numerous his wretched cat calls become muffled and then silenced. He cannot break through these layers, he cannot reach out and burst through the constructed layers to sabotage my existence. Each layer differs in depth, strength and duration in accordance with the type of fuel that I am able to gather and place within the void, fashioning my construct.
The smile from a stranger is a thin and ephemeral sliver. The admiration from a newly acquired primary source is a dense and durable slab that protects me and makes the construct strong. Piece by piece, layer by layer, each segment of fuel, positive and negative, reinforces the construct, fills the void and keep The Creature at bay.
One cannot rest for these pieces dissipate and melt away through time. The Creature picks at them, claws at them, raking through them. Your treacherous criticism punches massive great holes in them allowing the mocking howls of The Creature to echo to me. See now why we hate criticism so vehemently?
Fuel fills the void. Fuel creates the construct.
The fastest way to gather fuel is to show you what you want to see for then you will pour forth with your love, your delight, your admiration and your appreciation. Marvellous, edifying and filling is your fuel. If I show you the very thing that you want to see, namely yourself, you will give me this fuel more readily, with such potency, often and in huge amounts. I have not time to build something of substance for you to fall in love with, to admire and desire. I must create it with due expedience and what better way than to use that which already exists, namely you. Thus, I show you yourself through my mirror and you fall for that image believing it to be me, believing it to be my essence and substance.
You do not realise that you are seeking yourself and indeed you do not see yourself when I mirror you back at yourself. You are conned by my fakery into thinking that it is my substance that you see and it dazzles and enchants you. I care not. So long as you are providing me with that fuel, I will hold up that mirror to you and let you fall in love with yourself. It is an artifice, a fabrication and fakery but it is necessary.
I give you what you want. It is not real but it seems so real to you and thus your responses are in fact real. The delicious fuel flows and I want you to pour it into me, filling me up, creating a barrier of salvation between me and the Creature as you are chief architect in the plans to frustrate and defeat his attempt to dethrone me.
This is why when you are installed as primary source and your wonderful fuel flows you truly are everything that matters to us.
You are our salvation and if holding a mirror up to achieve this salvation is what must be done, then it will be done.


Our senses perceive a limited band of all that is real. By design, our eyes can only lock for a moment, allowing our imaginations to briefly intersect.
Mirrors are our wheel, our foundational tool. We crudely convert light into electrical signals through soggy clay, processing so very little yet all we are able.
Time diverges paths, randomly bouncing us off one another again and again. Light reflects and refracts, criss-crossing millions of concave mirrors in a kaleidoscope of beautiful eyes.
So magically put, Cynthia! “Our senses perceive a limited band of all that is real…Light reflects and refracts criss-crossing millions of concave mirrors in a kaleidoscope of beautiful eyes.”
But for the blind individual — he or she perceives with their whole body almost — another magical avenue of kaleidoscopes of perception… Just made me wonder, are there blind narcissists? Mirroring plays a leading role for the narcissist’s construct, tactics and survival. Absence of sight would be a hindrance for its development…
“Mirrors are our wheel, our foundational tool.” — Only because we trained our eyes to take the lead…
“Our senses perceive a limited band of all that is real.” — Only because we are not using our senses to their full extent… Language interferes in how we perceive reality. We name a tree a tree and think we know what a tree is. Yet we don’t know how it feels for the tree to spend its whole life in one spot…to soak up sunlight and transfer it into lifeblood…to search for water with roots…to be kissed by the wind and roused by storms…or to feel the touch of millions of different tiny feet, paws, claws, tails, hands… The tree has different foundational tools and wheels of navigation in life…
You touched upon a very fascinating subject! Upon a very fascinating article!! …Reality. And what makes us limit our perception and navigation of it?