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What is Love?

th (18)The eternal question. Philosophers have cogitated about it, writers have espoused long works dedicated to answering this question, poets have waxed lyrical on this notion and pop stars regularly beseech us to consider it. I like things to the point so I went straight to the dictionary and it defines love as

“A strong feeling of affection”

I am often scathingly criticised that I don’t really love people or that I have no comprehension of love. What nonsense. I feel a massive sense of affection for you when we first meet. In fact, I would wager that the intensity of my feeling for you goes above and beyond what anyone else feels. Why else would I want to spend every moment of every day with you? Why else do I take you to delightful places, furnish you with expensive gifts and shower you with my well-chosen words of affection and desire? I feel an intense connection with you, often from the beginning and that is the catalyst for me burning with passion for you. Who is to castigate me for those feelings? How can it be said that I do not feel love when the way I feel conforms, no, exceeds the definition of love? Do you know what I attribute that to? Jealousy and envy. It is always those who look upon our perfect love and declare that it is false and unreal. What do they know? Nothing. They are just caught up in their own empty and bitter shells, envious that they do not have what we have. I know what I feel for you. I am in touch with myself to such a degree that I m able to express it to you through thought, word and deed. Indeed, many of my former girlfriends have remarked that the eloquence by which I conveyed my love for them was remarkable and unparalleled. So yes I do love. My form of love may not be the same as yours, but then whose is? My version is sweeter, greater and all encompassing.

Just because it does not last does not mean that it is not love. Its ephemeral nature is your fault, not mine.

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Look Into the Abyss

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imageAs part of my ongoing work with Dr O and Dr E I have been encouraged to tell them about the things that I say and the things that I do for them to consider and compile. I have been happy to oblige. They instructed me to place this distillation of my activities into a guide and they then added some observations as to the meaning of these actions and comments. They did most of the work for the meaning, albeit I framed it in my world view. The purpose of this is to demonstrate the cold calculation that lies behind my words and deeds because do understand that everything I say and do has been evaluated first as to how it will best serve my aims. Anybody who tells you that what I do not know what I am saying or doing is either misguided or lying. I know exactly what I am doing. Indeed, I think it was from the film Dangerous Liaisons that one character was described thus, ‘He does not open his mouth without first calculating the damage that he will cause.’ or words to that effect. That is me. Accordingly, the good doctors felt that not only would this provide excellent material for them to consider and for them to then discuss with me in order for me to gain an understanding as to what I say and I do (I already know that – I do it to gain fuel) but for it to serve as a rough and direct guide for other people. An in-your-face crash course in recognising the ways of me and my kind. I was only to happy to oblige as this provides me with a platform to show you all just how brilliant I am and as you know, I do love an audience. Interestingly, when detailing some of my key phrases I noticed Dr O shudder a few times and I am beginning to wonder if she has more vested in her study and treatment of me than she has admitted. I will be watching her most carefully. Accordingly, in order with the good doctors’ prescriptions I have compiled this guide for your digestion so that you may better watch out for me and my kind. No doubt, as the good empath that you are, you will wish to share this with those you care about, in order to ensure they are better protected. You can find the guide at the links below. Good luck.

US             http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01496BIXS

CAN          http://www.amazon.ca/Evil-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01496BIXS

UK             http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01496BIXS

AUS           http://www.amazon.com.au/Evil-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01496BIXS

An Encounter With Evil

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imageAs part of my ongoing work with Dr O and Dr E I have been encouraged to tell them about the things that I say and the things that I do for them to consider and compile. I have been happy to oblige. They instructed me to place this distillation of my activities into a guide and they then added some observations as to the meaning of these actions and comments. They did most of the work for the meaning, albeit I framed it in my world view. The purpose of this is to demonstrate the cold calculation that lies behind my words and deeds because do understand that everything I say and do has been evaluated first as to how it will best serve my aims. Anybody who tells you that what I do not know what I am saying or doing is either misguided or lying. I know exactly what I am doing. Indeed, I think it was from the film Dangerous Liaisons that one character was described thus, ‘He does not open his mouth without first calculating the damage that he will cause.’ or words to that effect. That is me. Accordingly, the good doctors felt that not only would this provide excellent material for them to consider and for them to then discuss with me in order for me to gain an understanding as to what I say and I do (I already know that – I do it to gain fuel) but for it to serve as a rough and direct guide for other people. An in-your-face crash course in recognising the ways of me and my kind. I was only to happy to oblige as this provides me with a platform to show you all just how brilliant I am and as you know, I do love an audience. Interestingly, when detailing some of my key phrases I noticed Dr O shudder a few times and I am beginning to wonder if she has more vested in her study and treatment of me than she has admitted. I will be watching her most carefully. Accordingly, in order with the good doctors’ prescriptions I have compiled this guide for your digestion so that you may better watch out for me and my kind. No doubt, as the good empath that you are, you will wish to share this with those you care about, in order to ensure they are better protected. You can find the guide at the links below. Good luck.

US             http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01496BIXS

CAN          http://www.amazon.ca/Evil-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01496BIXS

UK             http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01496BIXS

AUS           http://www.amazon.com.au/Evil-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01496BIXS

The War On Error

I don’t like mistakes. I like everything to be correct and in order otherwise I feel unsettled at best and furious at worst. People often say sorry to me. I reply, ” Don’t be sorry, be accurate.” This requirement from accuracy stems from being well-educated and naturally intelligent. It was always drummed into me as a child that I needed to be top of the class and to always strive for 100%. That was a good grounding that has stood me in good stead. I often berate shop keepers on their signage when they add unnecessary apostrophes thinking them necessary for plurality or they omit them when denoting possession. I have lost count of my forays on Facebook and internet forums to point out the incorrect use of “their” , “there” and “they’re”. I get little thanks but what does one expect from the uneducated. Some people just refuse to better themselves.

All of that is irritating. I am infuriated when people are mistaken about me. That makes me especially angry. The mistakes always take the form of some ad hominem attack and are based on at best a misconception or at worst a blatant lie. Any assault on my character makes me so angry and I lose my temper very easily when this happens. What do they expect though? That I should sit quietly as they assassinate my character? Not a chance. I often have to point out that they are wrong and they have recalled the conversation they are relying on to attack me, incorrectly. That happens a lot. They always twist what has been said or agreed and then try to make me look bad. I will not stand for it. One of my ex-girlfriends, Trish, she said to me once, “You are constantly putting me down and correcting me. It is belittling.” I was sick of hearing this and erupted in a fury. Shouting however was the only way I could be sure she was listening to me. I explained to her that I was not constantly putting her down and correcting her because if I was doing it constantly, I would be doing it every second of every hour of every day. I explained that one constantly breathes or the earth constantly turns. I advised her that the word she should have used was repeatedly. She started crying and screaming. Her hypersensitivity and over reaction to my only trying to help would amuse me. Repeatedly.

The Switch

switches-1One of the more difficult of my behaviours for you to cope with, let alone understand, is the switch. On the Sunday we have enjoyed a pleasant day together lounging on the beach with a picnic. The next day you try and call me and I do not answer. I do not reply to your texts. I am not subjecting you to a prolonged silent treatment on this occasion and eventually we managed to speak in the afternoon. The conversation is not going to win away awards. I ask no questions, I am monosyllabic in my responses and you feel like I have pulled down the shutters and put up the defences. You ask me what is wrong and I do not give you a credible response which satisfies this sudden change in behaviour.

You draw the contrasting behaviours to my attention and I know full well what I have done and what I am doing. I however feel no need to explain myself. I recognise that I was pleasant and caring yesterday but now I am like a block of ice. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am unable to see this shift in my behaviour. I can. It is not that I cannot offer you an explanation for it. I don’t want to. This is because I am not accountable to you. If I want to behave this way then so be it. I have learned however that if I say this to you, it will make me appear bad, so instead I will ascribe it to being tired or I have other things on my mind. I am also doing this because I know that it will cause you to show you care (and thus give me more attention) by asking what is wrong and what has happened. If you push too far, I am likely to become angry and go on the attack (why do you always have to question me? Why must you assume there is always something wrong? I don’t have to be happy all the time you know?) Later on I will most likely send you a text stating I am sorry but I am under a lot of pressure at the moment or I had just received some bad news and did not feel upto talking (all lies of course) but you will then feel bad but also relieved at having received a (false) explanation and you will remain dangling, rather than doing the most appropriate thing which is to leave me to it.

Will I Ever Be Left Alone?

This is a frequent and plaintive cry from those who have been caught in my web. There are those that never realise what they have become involved in when they are targeted by my kind. They never leave and we never leave you alone. You are always there and available for us to extract some fuel from. We of course discard you but it is never a true parting of the ways. We only cast you aside in order to bring you back again. We do not really want to get rid of you. It is purely a device to ensure that we put you through the ringer again and extract some extra droplets of fuel from your battered and withered self. If you make no attempt to leave we will attach that metaphoric piece of elastic and bounce you back and forth. How long will that pushing and pulling go on for? Until you die. You will always serve some function to me. You will hang around and be used and abused until either you expire or I do and I never contemplate the latter for long.

What if you try to escape me? Well, the lesser narcissist also known as the oxymoronic benign narcissist will try to rope you back in but if you demonstrate sufficient resolve he or she will seek out a far easier target. The reality is there are so many people walking around oozing empathy, that they may as well have a target painted on their backs. We always find fresh fuel and without too much effort. Sometimes I do think that we attract you without having to anything. I know how we are able to sniff you lovely empaths out, but I have started to wonder whether the super empaths that exist have some function for finding us. Their desire to fix and repair enabling them to home in our broken and warped ways and inadvertently they are drawn into our sights. The lesser narcissist will try to hook you back in, but eventually he or she will leave you alone. It may take a few months but you can avoid their clutches. Beware however, should you fly too close in the future we will shoot out a tendril and ensnare you again. Do not make the mistake of thinking that we ever forget how useful you are to us. We do not forget and should you attend an event where we are or decide out of some misguided sympathy to send a text asking how we are, we will come straight back after you.

That is the approach of the lesser narcissist but what of my breed, the malign narcissist. Will we ever leave you alone?

Never.

Picture This

thV6PJJ06DWe all know that a picture paints a thousand words but with my kind and me, you are far more likely to receive a novel. If you know what to look for, my use of pictures is a helpful indicator for you. Initially, I will take hundreds of pictures of you as I shower you with compliments. I will also ensure there are thousands of pictures of us, wearing beaming smiles, radiating out our long-standing love (of three days so far). These pictures will be taken in a sun-drenched location, on a ski-slope, outside the theatre, at restaurants, at the game and so on and so forth. These markers of happiness and location will be plastered all over my phone and social media as part of my Relationship Bulletin (see post) and also a general declaration to the world. Look at us together, see how happy and content we are. This is going to last forever.

Wait a number of months and then ask to see the photos of my phone. I will be evasive and no doubt pick a fight and engage in one of my numerous manipulative techniques to deflect you from pursuing this line of enquiry. The reason? You are no longer clogging up my photo album, in fact I will have stored there various pictures of my new target. None will have been taken with her consent. No, these photos might be surreptitious ones taken at work or most likely copied from her Twitter feed and Facebook account. You might think in the evening that I am sat poring over our photos. Not a chance. I am studying my next source of fuel.

You will also notice a reluctance for me to pose in photographs with you. I will come up with all manner of excuses and invariably suggest we have plenty of pictures we do not need any more.

“Honestly, you take so many selfies, anyone would think you were a narcissist,” I will declare in a delicious moment of irony. I will be refusing to appear in a picture with you and slowly removing all those pictures of us and you from social media accounts. I will not do it in once fell swoop ; that is too obvious. Instead, I do it little by little, imagining I am erasing a little bit of you each time. My version of a death by a thousand cuts.

If you do manage to get a picture of me unawares there will not be the brilliant smile I always used to flash, instead it will be a scowl. If I submit to a posed photograph the smile will be thin and the eyes will be cold and dark, just like how my heart feels for you.

Point Askew

In a discussion with Dr E we were engaged in one of the sessions where he invites me to consider the situation from the point of view of those that I interact with. On this particular occasion we were discussing situations where a victim wishes to cease interacting with me and he wanted to know if I could understand why they might form that view. Since I am a clever chap I am able to work out how people might feel about being on the receiving end of my behaviour. I understand that anxiety and hyper vigilance, misery and upset follow the way I treat people. As you know though I do not care. People make the mistake that I am dismissive of the way people feel. It is not that. I can see that they are upset. I can see that they are angry. I know all of that. What people often fail to realise is that my needs have to come first. I need my fuel. If that means you standing there sobbing at me then that has to happen so I get my fuel. If there was a different way of getting that fuel then I would use that method. If that alternative method did not leave you upset then I would take it, but there is no other way, not when I grow tired of you. I need the fuel and that means you have to suffer as you supply that to me.

I do understand how you feel because I have seen the reactions over and over again. I know what anger looks like, I know what misery is and I have seen despair so often. I can understand your point of view when you stand arguing with me, but I will not concede to it. I want you to keep arguing as that gives me fuel. I will deploy a circular argument to keep the drama going. I want you to explode through frustration and shower me with your attention as you do so. I hear everything you say to me (although I will wind you up by saying I cannot hear you, so you speak louder and become exasperated). People suspect that I cannot appreciate what your view is. I do but it must always be subservient to my desire for fuel. Of course, by telling you this I can extract even more fuel from you because now you know that I understand your views but I wont pay any heed to them and that will infuriate you all the more.

Cheats Always Prosper

I have admitted previously that I am a pathological liar. I speak and a lie pops out. I really cannot help it. It happens so often it has become my default setting. The lies of course vary. Sometimes I need one to support my grandiose nature,

“Yes I have two Bentleys at home, one for winter and one for summer.”

Alternatively, it may be to cut you down.

“No that shirt does not suit you. Pastel shades make you look insipid.” You look great actually but I cannot have that.

Other times the lie appears to deflect your unwarranted criticism of me.

“I could not be in Revolution bar with a blonde lady because I was in a meeting still with a client. Shall we ring him and embarrass him by asking him to confirm he was with me? No? Thought not.” That blonde was a delight. I got her number within minutes.

I was discussing all of this with Dr O. She asked me if I could remember when I began to tell lies. I sat silent for a short while.

“Can you not remember? Would it be fair to say that you have always told lies?” she asked.

“Wait I am remembering. That’s it. I remember now,” I answered triumphantly. She looked at me in that expectant way she has. I do like that. I hope to see her giving me that look from my bed in the near future.

I went on to explain that I recall cheating at Monopoly. I always insisted on being the banker and in the more frenetic stages of the game I would always ensure an extra £100 would be allocated to me when I passed go by sliding it off the pile with two other notes. Nobody noticed. I would then routinely give the other players short change and they usually failed to notice. If they did, I would correct it and blame it on the speed of the game. I would then invent rule changes with players who were not regular players and as with any instance where I look to alter reality, I would say it with such conviction they would back down. After all, my word is law, I am a god.

I continued to explain how this set in motion an reliance on cheating and telling lies. I noticed how doing so always afforded me a better table at a restaurant, got me out of a commitment I was no longer interested in, garnered interest from somebody new as I lied about my career. I achieved promotions by lying about my achievements and telling tales about my competitors. Wielding my trusty friend plausible deniability I carved my lies into the landscape, built towers of fabrications and cities of deceit. In fact, I confessed to a scribbling Dr O I would be hard pressed to recognise the truth anymore since lies serve me so much more effectively.

Ice Cold With Alex

th08QINOIKI had a girlfriend called Alex. She was a vivacious creature who was very much into her gymnastics and I cultivated an interest in this after seeing her various tweets about attending competitions and her posts on Instagram. She was at least ten years younger than me and she had a delightful naivety about her. Although she was far from old, indeed she was very much in her youth, she was approaching the upper age limit for those who could be regarded as competitive in gymnastics. Similar to competitive swimming, the shelf-life of a female gymnast is not long.

Initially, I would drive her all around the country to the various competitions which she took part in. She was very good and often found herself amongst the medals. The rigorous routines began to have an effect on her body and on return to home it was often necessary for her to apply ice packs to reduce the swelling she suffered about her knees and ankles. Once I tired of her bubbly persona and incessant chatter about straddle press handstands,pike press to handstand from front stand and the Arabian doubles, I would prior to her competition remove any ice we had in the house. On return she would express her dismay at the lack of ice. I would volunteer to go and find some for her from the supermarket as she rested. I would go to the pub instead or go and visit Mary who was attracting my attentions around this time.

I would return empty-handed resulting in Alex not recovering quick enough and thereafter having to pull out of competitions. She would swear that she had purchase some ice only the day before but I would point out that she could not have done since we had none. That was a fact and with a confused look she would eventually accept the force of what I was saying. Unfortunately for her, she insisted on attending a competition when not fully recovered and ended up badly injuring her right knee. Her convalescence was such that she felt her confidence dry up and she was most reluctant to rejoin the competition. This pleased me as it meant my weekends were no longer being interrupted and as she was on crutches for a time it meant I was free to come and go and there was little she could do about it, being largely housebound. In order to show some semblance of caring for her, I would cook the evening meal for her on condition she fixed the drinks for us both. It was then I decided I would always drink Absolut vodka. On the rocks.