An action today leads to some consequence(s) today, tomorrow, or in 5 years. We are taught to understand this at a relatively young age in all cultures, right? Humans have always had a certain fixation on discovering what predetermines their futures. This race to the answer has given way to the creation of religion, philosophy, psychology, science, history. All of these are practices that in some manner serve to predict an individual’s future considering their particular set of contingencies. The hegemonic dominance of the United States for the last two centuries has created an elite class of Americans who have lost respect for the uncertainty of life. Although they have not earned experience or wisdom, modern day upper class Americans slump through life feeling validated for the majority of their experiences. Feeling deserving, they have stopped conditioning themselves to the reality of true rejection, humiliation, and pain. They pump themselves full of dopamine and virtue signaling. Working away their lives simply to strive upwards in space. Consumed by the machine of the market. Unaware of the sorrow that brings it all together.
I bounce two times on the balls of my feet and move forward to meet him in the middle. I like to feint early to the body, it makes me feel secure having my chin down real low in the early exchanges. He’s much longer than me, yet, I tease the front kick after the feinted jab to the body. He’s aggressive and blitzes me landing one of two shots. The initial jab misses me but the right hook catches me at the crown of my head. I move out of range quickly but, make no mistake, I lost my center of balance. I’m hurt. He tracks me. You can have it your way. On land or in the sea. He blitzes me again, this time, showing the same jab/straight but goes to the body with a right kick which lands square on my ribs. I exaggerate my back tracking out of the exchange to establish this pattern of death. I think there is a mismatch in footwork/quickness, but he doesn’t. It’s still early. This is a dangerous man before me. He chases again this time feinting an overhand right. I give him looks right back, I can’t lose sight of that. My name is my name. I land a soft jab back to the body. His hands still aren’t falling because he doesn’t respects my power and I ran. I land a left hook to the body and run away again. He begins to slow down his approach, sort of plodding in the middle. I don’t want that. I chop with an inside leg kick, then another one. Now time to make him sniff something bad. In my eyes, I think I can put anyone to sleep. I stand and give him a left hook that he blocks off the side of his head and then sneak a right uppercut through his guard. I want to make sure he feels his back foot after that flurry so I shoulder bump him off me. Then throw an outside leg kick. His eyes have that little thing in them that I want to pluck out. I lunge back twice while I parry his left jab then duck the overhand right. With his momentum going to the right side of my body, I pull the back of his head forcing his chin on to my right knee. It’s a fight, so whatever happens, happens.
I worked at a non-profit for a summer during high school. We helped immigrants from Syria who had been gassed and bombed get food and family resources. If they didn’t qualify for help directly from us, we would forward their cases to community partners who specialized in whatever need was required. I remember filling out different pieces of paperwork which were intended to gauge the level of need each family had. Although the questions were fairly rote, the conversations usually spilled over into talking about the violence they’d experienced in their homeland. “Are you currently working?” *Interpreter translates.* *Client replies.* *Interpreter translates.* “Not right now, but I will start soon at a grocery story. In Syria, I never worked because my husband was a lawyer. With him gone now, yes, I will start to work. My husband he worked and made money but the government killed him.” The interpreters were told to repeat exactly what the client said verbatim and in first person. I always found that odd but the interpreters insisted. In this case, I just looked through the woman and I handed her a packet with food pantries and affordable medical imaging centers. I never saw them during my time there, but there were stories of two boys who received services from us who were missing limbs due to a car bomb. One of them had no left foot and the other one was missing a right arm from the shoulder down.
I notice that he keeps yawning at my story. It’s a story that makes me look good, so I understand why he’s trying to demoralize me. I was just sharing, my bad. These subtle jabs and sleights from these types of people have become normal to me. He’s no friend of mine. White American men are cowards, generally. Since they’ve been programmed to view everybody as a commodity, they would rather waste away their lives secretly hating another man instead of telling him to his face. They do this for several reason. Having no spine, boredom, validation seeking, etc. They also do this because if that annoying person they secretly hate ever becomes rich or famous, they want to be close by in order to get a piece of the pie. It’s why they hang out in such big groups or why they have their “token” friends that they only see three times a year in order to steal culture from. I’m stereotyping, but a lot of these cats won’t just tell people straight up that they don’t like them. They’ll have them in the wedding pics cheesing. I will never ask this guy to come have a beer ever again.
Nothing will ever remain static regardless of how good or bad it gets. People who are abused by family members or significant others with narcissistic personality disorder often times find it hard to realize this. Either because the trauma and pain they experience is so constant, or because they don’t realize that there are ways to carve out a life outside the abuse. The first hurdle these individuals must surpass is realizing that the narcissist will never self-actualize. In other words, they will never change for the better. They will never admit to their own grotesque behavior which comes in the form of gaslighting, lying, cheating, gossiping, etc. The operative word that a lot of these victims continue to ignore or not take serious is: never. It will never happen. There is no hope in the vast majority of cases. Narcissists don’t have the emotional capacity to ever drop the act because the act is, in most cases, their whole life. The idea that a narcissist would ever abandon their life’s work of sowing disharmony is ludicrous. It’s their life’s work! Therein also lies a key to surpassing the second hurdle: giving the narcissist empathy. It’s unimaginable for many victims of narcissistic abuse to ever imagine forgiving their aggressor, much less, giving them empathy. Because victims are now faced with a mental health crisis due to the trauma inflicted by the narcissist, they forget that their abuser themselves are constantly in a mental health crisis. Every waking second of a narcissist’s existence is dedicated to this chaotic, tense, afraid narrative which they’ve built up as a defense mechanism. There’s hardly room for research or moments of vulnerability within this mental framework because that in and of itself would be admitting to being less than. Everything is a competition where even when you lose you have to twist things around so that you win. Thus, never learning the sweet details of the world around us which are the bedrock of excellence. It then all loops around in a cycle this way. It’s an awful existence that we should empathize with. You don’t have to put up with their emotionally draining antics, but you can imagine them when they were just in diapers, naive and pure. They’re brain broken and, most, will never live functioning lives because of their disorder. The last hurdle which keeps victims from regaining their grasp on the law of temporality is themselves. Men especially are victims of this because they think with their penis. You attract what you are and when you’re attracting pieces of human garbage - as a man - it’s hard not to fuck the trash (just generalizing although a lot of women of course fuck human waste too). Abusers will remove themselves from a war with a narcissist and claim victory by quickly sleeping with the most readily available narcissist in queue. It doesn’t have to be that way. Take a moment for yourself. While you’re doing that, Love the narcissist in your life. *THIS IS A PAID AD DISTRIBUTED BY AI*
There is something unsettlingly about the price of codeine promethazine cough syrup nowadays. Hand on my heart, if anybody is paying $1,400 for a pint, I’m here to console you. Like the Statue of Liberty, bring me your weak and hobbled masses. That’s an expensive habit. Blew me away. The side effects are brutal, too. The guys can’t shit, dry mouth, rashes. It makes you wonder how much of that shit is about to get poured up at the annual Players Ball. Addiction to anything is usually just a cry for attention, but if you’re dishing out $1,400 after scavenging your city then hats off, partner. Your parents should give you a hug. If they don’t, I might force them through my ways. I’m only addicted to the Andrew Huberman method, maximizing my potential, embracing the ugly, and Marcus Aurelius quotes. That’s all I could ever be addicted to, really. In high school I was a running back.