Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Seducing too well (part 3)

I learned this lesson long ago from being too smart: people will not want to play with you if they feel there's no chance they can win. It's a consequence of being good at games. It's lonely. Being rejected because you're too good is almost as bad as being rejected because you are incompetent. Depending on the situation and the person, there are things you can try to do to make it better. With my crush, I tried to alleviate the nervousness in the same way you'd try to calm an overexcited animal. Slow moves, explaining what you are doing the entire time, telling them there's nothing to worry about, no harm will come. There's a certain amount of shaming that can go into it. I try to make them see how ridiculous it is to be scared of little old me. The whole thing is a lot of work, though, and there's no magic bullet that will set them at ease. This seduction fire is not dying out because of too little oxygen—it's sputtering because there's a heavy wind: too much oxygen.

In my mind this is also a failed seduction. It reminds me of that scene in Pollock where Peggy Guggenheim seduces Pollock only to have him drunkenly ejaculate prematurely. I've come to realize is that anyone, any age, any gender, can show the restraint and judgment of a 12 year-old boy if you set up the seduction wrong.

I made things worse with my crush because I got frustrated and almost disgusted. I pushed the shame tactic too hard. I got traded down for a simpler model, not just shelved but back-shelved. It has taken months of soothing tones and being a shoulder to cry on before I've gotten back into my crush's good graces, and even now I tread as lightly as I can, on thin ice, because we are still not quite there.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Seducing too well (part 2)

The second too-well seduction started months before the first, but is still not complete. The first time we met I felt nothing but slight interest. The second time we ran into each other walking out of the office at the same time. I knew we would take the lift together, then walk through our building's maze of halls for at least five minutes more. Even after that we'd probably end up walking in the same direction, both of us sneaking out early. I was actually a little nervous about making so much small talk, but I had nothing to worry about. Somehow I was given the five-minute mini life story of everything that was that person's life since age 18, and it fascinated me. I just listened. It's amazing how much more effective listening is as a seduction tool than anything else. The infatuation quickly became mutual: mine was firmly rooted in narcissism and a desire to exploit. The thought of my crush made me salivate. The other person's infatuation was... I'm still not completely sure.

It's interesting how I guide people to knowing and adoring me. I do it in a very similar way each time. I have never taken hard drugs, but I find the accoutrement, the routine, the near-ceremony of the preparation fascinating. The way your junky girlfriend might softly persuade you to try heroin before guiding you through the process is how I feel when I let people "get to know me." Everyone is an M.E. virgin when I get them. Deflowering them can either be gentle or rough, but it always follows a certain pattern. Like hard drugs, I know I have certain side effects. They are similar in different people, though of course no two people are exactly alike. But I've never had someone react so strongly to me as this person.

I began this "courtship" with my new crush and realized pretty quickly that I made my crush debilitatingly nervous. At first, I really relished in this power. I was sick from enjoyment every time I noticed a quiver, a tremor, a crack in the voice, a nonsensical sentence. My crush could not recover, though, could not grow stronger. I was winning by too great a margin for my crush to remain interested in playing the game.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Sociopath quote: Conscience

"Conscience? You mean that thing that kicks in when there's no logical reason to behave the way people want you to?"

-- from House, MD: "Teamwork"

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

More portraits of sociopathy

People always ask me questions. Sometimes I ask them questions back:

What did it feel like to discover you were a sociopath? Were you more relieved or curious that there was a label for the type of person you are?
I've been trying to put a label on myself for the type of person I am for years now -- since I was around 14 years old. The fact that I've never been able to quite understand emotions or why people have them effectively resulting in a sense of separation from the rest of society and an overwhelming drive to engage in grandiose entrepreneurial projects, the end result of which is usually a fantasy in taking over something or someone, has led me to think I had Aspergers syndrome (a mild form of autism marked with anti-social behavior and the ability to hyperfocus on sometimes superfluous hobbies).

But, after hearing from several people (the guy at the bar, an ex girlfriend, co-workers) that I had a sociopathic personality I decided to research it further and was incredibly relieved that I had finally found the correct label. At least now I feel as though I stand in some niche and that there are verifiable characteristics and an adhering portion of the population.
Did you always know you were different? or had you assumed that everyone else was just like you?
When I was in Middle School -- about 13 years old -- I came to home room one day and the kid I had been sitting next to since the beginning of the year wasn't there and everyone around me was crying. I asked what was going on and they sobbingly expressed to me that he was dead. He had been riding his ATV and flew off and hit a tree and died instantly.

My first thought? "Damnit, I wonder how long before everybody stops crying and talking about this and everything is back to normal".

That's also the first time I've ever been yelled at for not crying during an "appropriate" crying situation, but not the last. I just didn't feel ANYTHING for the situation. He was dead, who cares?

Years later my grandmother took her last breath in front of me -- I felt nothing. People die. After that my girlfriend's little brother was hit by a car and died. I had a hard time dealing with the situation because I didn't know how to be emotionally supportive.

Several of my friends commited suicide during high school and I went to all of their viewings. I remember one situation where a friend of mine said, "why aren't you crying?" and I said, "the only reason people cry at funeral's is because they're all of a sudden reminded of their own mortality and that they're going to die too, so really everyone here is just being selfish". That person never talked to me again.

So, did I always know I was different? Yeah, but I clearly saw that other people weren't the same as me. I've never been able to understand people's feelings. I just don't get it, not one bit.

I've tried to feign feelings or at least act like I have them, but that's all I've ever been in my life thus far (I'm 23) is an actor. I can adjust to any personality type within a matter of minutes. I can say things I know people will like and act in ways so people will think I'm cool. Basically I'm just a chameleon, which is great for my business aspirations hah hah.
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