Narcissism: What It Means To Me, Volume I, Introduction
Maybe you were an altar boy as a kid, or an acolyte. Maybe you were just quietly, desperately trying to sit still on the pews of hard, German Oak for a parent you hoped might someday love you. Maybe you sat in judgment of every family who tried to sing on Sunday but, well, couldn’t carry a tune in a tin bucket. Maybe you’re in a rush and just want me to make my point.
Or, maybe, you were lucky and not raised under the thumb of any brainwashing cult hell-bent on social control whatsoever.
Whatever your belief system, or your professed lack thereof, whomever you see when you close your eyes is who you believe you are. Most of us see nothing much, and you’re probably right. Some of us see something, but it looks a lot like whatever we were looking at before we closed our eyes. And you are right, too. But some of us are fortunate enough to just relax the hell out of whatever mind-control game our world was playing with us when we were growing up and we see a vast landscape of everything that ever was, will be and is. We call these people “enlightened” now, but when we were growing up, we stole their lunch money and left them crying and alone on the street. I guess we showed them. Now they make tons of cash, get all the good looking partners and we’re left DutchBoy’ing our scalps or trying to figure out what day it is when we look in the mirror.
Well, that day is “Now” and it turns out you missed it.
Fortunately for you I am not busy during the day and can help you find what you missed while, hopefully, giving you a chuckle. People are still people, regardless of how their followers revere them or speak of them to you, “uninitiated,” folks who were across the street from the school grounds smoking carton after carton of cigarettes you only wish you would have stockpiled until today. Right now. You were a millionaire back then and didn’t even know it. Youth is wasted on the young and you were probably wasted when it first dawned on you, mid-buzz, that there might be something like, “joy,” available for fun and for free.
Well, this book in your hot little hands is your ticket to the Other Side, to peace and to freedom, to everything you were ever looking for under that skirt or beneath that suit and tie, on those ski slopes, at that bus stop or tucked away on the other side of the bars of that drunk tank on a Friday night. There’s a lot of truth in the black parts of those books you never really read or understood, but you knew then like you know now that the really important stuff lies in-between the black parts, in the white spaces in those books and outside of them. In the blank spaces. In the empty-headed stares you gave to those chrome fenders you polished to a shine, or in the bouncing hair of that happy girl you always wished you’d talked to in high school, but never had the courage to just say, “hi.” A million moments have come and gone just in the time you’ve taken to read my book this far and start your journey into the white parts and the blank spaces between words. I thank you for that and I want you to know that by the time you are finished, the whole world will thank you for the person you are about to become.
“What are you saying?”
I know. Laughter is the best medicine and you’ve been sick a long, long time. Welcome back home.