There is a family in Santa Cruz that parades around as do-gooders that are really a Narcissist Cult. Right down to the letter of the Narc playbook. They triangulate, gaslight, hoover, use fronts, smokescreen, discard, love bomb. They are after your supply. They must have supply. Feed off your existence.
They appear as soul vampires with a ray gun to zap you. The names on this blog have been changed to protect me. The Narc & his troll regime won’t know we are discussing them, unless a flying monkey sings or I run into the covert narc’s wife(my former aunt Elvira) at the corner store. The Narcissist in your world will gain on you right into your grave.
This Narc I’m dealing with is into bowties, booze, boats and bidets. Bob Limpkins, yawn, married my aunt Elvira, yes love, and supply. The Narc put us through gates of hell past 9. I’m only alive to type this rant because the angels picked me up and a powerful force pulled back the curtain on the covert narc.
The Narc cult is killing us, one by one, hovering up every stitch of our souls, they cutting up our bodies before the grave to take a skeleton bone. Grind us into dust and snort us off your bowtie, creepy uncle Bob. We have been photographed, put on file, eaten up by Narcs.
Narcissists block, triangulate, study you, target you, and of course gaslight. You start doubting yourself, feel like you are walking on a slant. They destroy with a steady stream of bad news from their narc ray gun or take potshots hiding from behind somebody’s skirt or a whole community.