It’s insidious. Creeping into crevices where it can find a foothold. I feel that painful emotion more for those who hurt people I care for than for myself. I told my physically abused friend it was OK to hate. She doesn’t. Me neither. Or maybe it’s just flashes of hate that flicker and die. Maybe she understood that person was damaged and hates his actions. Or maybe he just wore her down. I don’t know. I understood though.
A belief system, not easy to stick to. Detours along the way. I abhor hate. Love fellowmen and women, in theory anyway. Or even just respect. But you can find some writing somewhere telling you hate’s OK. Can you love that person who hates? Can you love that person whose ideas are so diametrically opposed to yours? Can you love that person who hurts you with a purposeful deliberateness? Tries to suck out your soul? Flashes of hate try to invade. Give in to it? But then it’s like depression, feeding on itself. Destroying yourself. The platitudes spot on. The murdered and the murderer. Both destroyed. But then one of those has the chance for redemption.
Hate feels as good as love for some, like this narcissist (others call him a narcissistic sociopath) whose blog I was reading. He thrives on getting those emotions from his targets, his victims. Inevitably he turns on each victim. Maybe keeping one around while courting others. Double duty. Love and hate. He gets as much thrill from that look of hurt as he does from the look of love. He admits it. It’s about taking your emotions that you give readily. Difference? Some emotions are painful and others joyful. They’re all the same for him. He doesn’t pick just anyone. He is looking for that person with empathy and compassion because he lacks those emotions. And that will be the person to trust him. He doesn’t love but he knows how to make you think he does. He knows how to make you think he feels it all. He’s just like you, the victim. Chameleon. Copycat. Repeats your words and emotions. He flatters and his courtship is usually quick. Sudden confession of love and flattery about how he’s always noticed you. Is it magic or hypnotism for a seemingly intelligent rational person to fall for him? He doesn’t lack for victims. I think this guy could tell you all the ugly and still have you fall for it. Is it that you can’t believe in evil? Or is it the savior complex? He just needs love. And even after destruction, the victim sometimes keeps coming back or he goes back for seconds. He is scary evil. Yet he has millions of followers. The one he hates most is the one who does finally recognize him. Or just a challenge?
As I read this guy’s blog who is the awesome combination of intelligent and self-aware, and feels disdain for those narcissists who can’t quite figure themselves out; I had sluggish enlightenment. I’m giving this narcissist dude what he needs. Following his words. I was lured by this anonymous writer who is pain incarnate. Damned, he was good. And he’s selling books on Amazon. We are not safe, and he’s not alone. He’s not just in men. He could be a woman. His targets might not even be lovers. It might be friends. It might be anyone. Isn’t it better to know the devil though? So I read what he had to say. But in the word of President Trump, sad. We still probably won’t recognize him until too late. So sad.
And how did I get here? Life and the news is making me crazy. A 20 year-old with hate enough to kill. Another young man planning a bomb to kill in Oklahoma City. How did they develop such intense hate? Why don’t we recognize their capabilities? Is there no one close enough to see them? But why can’t we recognize that narcissist or sociopath or psychopath until after the fact? Are they actually the fittest of society with a chameleon-like exterior? If they are the fittest, then what would it be like in a whole society of such personality types. It wouldn’t work, because like the Highlander; there could be only one.
I told my son last night that I was scared. That narcissist is a scary dude and not alone. I drove around the battlefields. Battlefields in cornfields. There are ghosts. They were us fighting right here. Fighting each other to the death. A country divided. Is it about beliefs or is it just hate?
Rambles about hate and fear. Embrace it or fight it. But what if you backed me into the corner to stand for something I believe?