A day in the life of post narcissism…

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nted his glass permanently filled with bubbly. Nobody liked him.I later confronted him about the huge show of orange juice which looked like wine. That wasn’t wine. It was sparkling water.But they didn’t have any sparkling water.I’d often wondered about his sometimes purple nose, excessively large abdomen. He’d once said: I rarely drink!And the art? An expert asked why we had such rubbish on our walls.And his odd friends. The one wearing shorts who ate everything in sight. The two of them of them kept eating and eating and eating especially the cheese sliders.He’d taken me home reluctantly by that stage. Rushed back to meet fri

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ends.And whilst my COVID worsened they went to his home smoking dope watching porn and congratulating themselves as I was hospitalised the following evening. My throat so painful I couldn’t swallow even my own salvia as he kept spinning lies and gas lighting to convince himself he was a brilliant artist and a good guy.Nobody thought so….except me. But his majesty had dismissed me.The whale had landed. Hooked by a camera girl before sailing back into his ocean of poison where he’d swam for millennia.This afternoon I opened the door to the street library and suddenly some books fell out. I put them back only for them to fall again. Behind them a title caught my eye: Never go back!</article></body>

A day in the life of post narcissism…

After a dream. A glimpse into pondering thoughts.

A breakfast.

A coffee.

A companion.

An art gallery.

A receptionist who remembered my ex narcissist as: The worst narcissist I ever met.

We were all wondering: Who is this guy? He was so demanding. So rude. Wanted his glass permanently filled with bubbly. Nobody liked him.

I later confronted him about the huge show of orange juice which looked like wine. That wasn’t wine. It was sparkling water.

But they didn’t have any sparkling water.

I’d often wondered about his sometimes purple nose, excessively large abdomen. He’d once said: I rarely drink!

And the art? An expert asked why we had such rubbish on our walls.

And his odd friends. The one wearing shorts who ate everything in sight. The two of them of them kept eating and eating and eating especially the cheese sliders.

He’d taken me home reluctantly by that stage. Rushed back to meet friends.

And whilst my COVID worsened they went to his home smoking dope watching porn and congratulating themselves as I was hospitalised the following evening. My throat so painful I couldn’t swallow even my own salvia as he kept spinning lies and gas lighting to convince himself he was a brilliant artist and a good guy.

Nobody thought so….except me. But his majesty had dismissed me.

The whale had landed. Hooked by a camera girl before sailing back into his ocean of poison where he’d swam for millennia.

This afternoon I opened the door to the street library and suddenly some books fell out. I put them back only for them to fall again. Behind them a title caught my eye: Never go back!