N = Narcissism (A-Z Challenge)

It struck me that I have been far too nice during this A to Z blog exercise. Therefore, I will now talk about narcissism, one of the most irritating human qualities one can possess. It’s right up there with reckless disregard for human life, pretense, and people who walk in public while texting and don’t watch where they are going. Yeah, tell me you don’t want to charge right into those people, slap their cell phones out of their hands and, if you are very, very lucky, make them weep like colicky infants.


The myth of narcissism has to do with the young, beautiful Narcissus. He was so beautiful and egomaniacal that, while wandering near a pool, he fell down at the water’s edge and fell in love with his own reflection. (And thus Instagram and the selfie were born. The End. Bwahahaha!) Well, there was this beautiful nymph named Echo who was in love with Narcissus. Echo was cursed to only be able to repeat what people said back at them and was therefore 100% perfect for Narcissus. Instead, Narcissus was so transfixed by his own beauty that he stayed there, admiring himself, ignoring Echo, and eventually wasted away and died. Another version says that he finally realized it was a reflection, knew he could never have the perfection before him, and committed suicide.


Tell me you don’t know several people like this. I personally don’t know what’s worse — the people who are truly physically beautiful, or the…others.


I tend to think the latter are more sad than anything. The others, for me, are huge, horrible turnoffs. Who wants to be with a guy or girl who is more in love with him/herself than you? Or who would rather take pictures of themselves than spend time with you? Or who is only looking for hotter versions of themselves? Or someone who cannot resist the combination of a cell phone and a mirror?

I have NO idea who this random hot guy is. However, I Googled "Narcissism" and, I shit you not, this picture came up.

I have NO idea who this random hot guy is. However, I Googled “Narcissism” and, I shit you not, this picture came up.

I had a, uh, “friend” who was tall, incredibly good looking, somewhat smart…and knew every bit of it. His famous saying was to follow any criticism with, “But I get what I want.” You could tell him that continuing to smoke meth would kill him and that being skinny wasn’t worth the loss of his life, and he would tell you that he was hot enough now and that it didn’t matter. He never saw a duck-lipped picture of himself that he wouldn’t be willing to lick.


If he irritated me to the point that I would no longer talk to him, he would send me pictures of himself — any part he thought would get my attention — and wait for me to respond. If I didn’t, I would be on the receiving end of no less than five pictures of his dick. If that didn’t work (I was familiar with the region and therefore was less than stunned by its charm and beauty), he would begin to berate me. He would say the most horrible things he could think of. There would be a period of texting silence, and then he would call and leave a voice mail. The message would invariably be wheedling and apologetic, explaining that he loved me and wanted me and that he hated when we fought. I want to say now that we never were together. He wanted it, I pictured a life of this bullshit, and realized that no amount of beauty could make up for it. He was plain in his affections and simply could not accept that someone he wanted did not feel the same way about him and couldn’t be swayed by what he apparently thought was utter physical perfection.

Not him, but let's pretend it was, because he's pretty…and clearly full of himself.

Not him, but let’s pretend it was, because he’s pretty…and clearly full of himself.

Contrast this with another guy I know. He’s model-hot, brilliant, catches on to any given task in moments, is very fit and sexy, does crossword puzzles and reads to kill time, is polite, and has no clue how attractive he is. He is confident, but not a pusbag of ego on the ass of life, just waiting to be lanced and leeched. This ridiculously hot man is sweet, smart, and kind.

Now, who the hell would YOU rather be around? Guy #2 realizes that being beautiful (which he may or may not realize he is) is a genetic accident. For Guy #1, his physical appearance was his reason for living and the world was owed to him for it. I saw the good in him but realized that it would never be enough. I no longer speak to him.


You want to see horrible, rampant narcissim? Like, the kind that will make you shudder and want to slap a baby? Go onto a gay “dating” site, or ask your gay male friends about it. Change your location to Southern California. LA is a good place for this exercise, but not for those with high blood pressure, heart conditions, or who are prone to gastrointestinal distress. Click on the pictures of the attractive, in shape men. You will see things like, “No old guys. Only into fit and young. No fatties. If you don’t work out, we won’t get along. Work out 5x a week. Under 30 only. Look at yourself and then look at me; be realistic.” I have read these comments (every last one of them) over and over on different profiles. It’s revolting.

It’s not limited to looks. There are intellectual narcissists, cultural, emotional, anything. These people are burdens to be around. Sometimes, for whatever reason, these guys will hit me up and want to talk. Are they feeling magnanimous? Are they coming off their god-given thrones to perform a random act of kindness, mercy, and charity? Are they interested? Who fucking cares? Narcissism is repulsive, repugnant, and ghastly to me. I used to be polite, make conversation, feel flattered, and move on. Then I would ignore. Now, I think I will send them a link to this rant and a picture of my middle finger…and a big, fat, hairy, unwashed ass.

Alternate letter considerations: Narnia, Nervousness, Numerology.


~ by Darren Endymion on May 16, 2014.

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