Selected letters of The Narcissist


Selected letters of The Narcissist

Notes from underground : Fyodora

©S. D’Giff 2013 Satirical Works

Humility. Heh.. What is humility? I will tell you what humility is; it is a farce; it’s a mere sham dire farce. It’s a mask that these insufferable blockheads use in the most vain attempt to enshroud the height of their sanctimonious, and contemptuous Madame de Maintenon personas.

I do not believe in the appeal of what they call this “humble” behavior, this unadulterated “virgin” like behavior. I’d never dare to partake in any such behavior, and find it desperate, pathetic, and as inadequate upon frolicking with a virgin leading to an anticlimactic dismal affair.

I most certainly do not apprehend the intricacies of this behavior. Now coming from one who is adorned in the riches of excellence, and majestic qualities, a god like creature, remarkably resembling or personifying perfection. Yes, I just cannot fully ascertain or come to any conscious understanding of this “humble” behavior, or ailment.

Eh…tragic, grievous, unpleasant, distasteful behavior- I can’t help but utter under my breath, “It’s a disease.  It’s an abomination.” As great displeasure I feel when attempting to understand it, I feel almost immeasurable pleasure watching these poor fools. They are promoting a grand amount of merriment and contentment as I watch their amusing jocular performances. I’d almost go as far as expressing my gratitude and applaud their efforts. However, I feel that may be somewhat amongst the realm of their afflictions, their disease. Could it be the mere thought of desire to express anything but pity and repugnance for these…pedestrians means that I am infected? Could it be by exposure to these little horrid, tiny tyrants running rampant amongst my streets breathing my air? Have I become infected? Is this a symptom? I fear this may be catching. No…No…I am far too supreme to be susceptible to this virus. I am almost stricken by the thought of questioning my own superior nature.

Why would anyone feel the need to hide their true praise and love for themselves? Is it to appease these sheep? What does their judgment amount to? Why does one need that sort of approval from these dunces? Amour-propre…Heh.

Why just the other day, one accosted me from just across the way; he had imposed questioning of where I purchased my scarf, and emphasized how beautiful the scarf was and how it brought out the shades of rich emerald green in my eyes. This I know; I know it is an exquisite scarf, for I have not worn it; I know my eyes are a creation of god, I am a creation of god, I am a gift from god to this world. What ails this person for they approach me with such questioning? How dare they waste my time. This is an everyday occurrence. This pedestrian calls himself Boris. Very seldom do I feel inadequate, however when I do, it’s amongst the greatest woeful and brutishly galling of all feelings. It’s as feral as a pigeon holding pearls, and as ailing as watching a birth, or giving birth to a primate, an unsightly, repugnant child. To have a beastly child is thought to be the absolute burden of all burdens, and highest tragedy of all tragedies. Nevertheless, it is throughout these moments that I crave the praise of those pedestrians, like Boris. However this inhabitant called “Boris” is pathetic. Every encounter becomes less gratifying, and his confessions are trite, displeasing…purely empty. Boris – “the windbag”.

It must be the streets; The overflow of pedestrians has caused this travesty. The streets have lost all appeal; The prestige, the luster, all disregarded and eroded by these pitiful bromides. How else could anyone slightly more dignified than a peasant hold anything but contempt for these streets. I will say I am foolish for expecting a new gem to walk these wretched streets to fuel my ego. I feel it is a time for change. I must part with these streets. I must travel to a more promising land.


I just got back from a lovely trip to Omaha, Nebraska! I certainly did not expect the atmosphere nor the environment of which I developed an uncanny fondness towards. In all honesty, I expected corn fields, and my nights to be somewhat akin to scenes in “Deliverance”, or “Children of the Corn”. Quite assuredly would that have made a delectable anecdote, for you all. However, adversely traumatic for myself. I feel compelled to report that I did not encounter any children in argyle vests, nor hear the sound of dueling banjos throughout my stay.

All jest aside, I really enjoyed my time spent in Omaha. I met some amazing people, who are extremely dedicated and hard-working individuals. It is very inspiring to be amongst a “Team” that exemplifies strong work ethic and harmonious interaction. I feel it is a huge part of what motivates me to go beyond 100%, 110%- and then some. Otherwise, I will only give 100% and call it a day.

I have to admit that I had the best birthday ever in a long time! I celebrated my birthday on the 17th of September (again as usual), in a beautiful deep sleep after a lovely meal of sushi and an abundance of these really soft sugar cookies from Walgreens. Those cookies were phenomenal! The cookies aroused sensations in my mouth I never knew existed. I would rank them far beyond cheesecake, but I have had many wonderful years of cheesecake, and I have grown far to partial towards it, to give up it’s number one spot.

minorwhite studios
Great face in time for Halloween mask samples!
Hotel Deco is pretty interesting!
Filming commercial

Shout out to all the amazing team I worked with in Omaha: Michael Lang, Corey Hart, Ben Drickey, Scott Drickey, Kyle Wullschleger, Kelly Herrington, Mason Kenton, Amy Lechtenberg, Dylan Adams, and the incomparable soy beans and Ann Luchsinger.

tour·ist (trst) n. One who travels for pleasure.

tour·ist (trst)
How many tourists have come and gone in your life? Or has there been one particular tourist whom you keep allowing to check-in? I suppose you could send a damage bill. However, were there any regulatory measures established? Now, you may certainly elect to ban this tourist, or you could request a security deposit upon their next arrival.

The beauty of tourism is simply pleasure! No responsibilities, no commitments. You will experience the best weather, the best part of town, the best food, simply the best of everything. From the moment you arrive, you are in a continual state of bliss! Why would anyone leave? Well my dears, the idea traveling for pleasure is indeed a great idea. Every tourist knows there are many other great destinations. Why settle in Maui, when you can travel to Antigua or to Paris next week? – More often than not people eventually nest in an area they once roamed as a tourist, and they realize after a week- it was all an illusion. It is funny people forget that they must make their own bed, they must take out their own trash, they must prepare their own meals, they must shovel their own snow… The grass does not stay green year round, and the sun certainly does not shine for the weeks you plan it to. Honestly, I can not think of one good reason why anyone would settle!
I will say this… For those of you who harbor an abundance of sentimental feelings and stare at bananas hoping to finally see the brown spots form – Stare at fucking peaches, or try to drink the rain. (Honestly, that is your life; it’s your business, not mine! I am not going to tell you what to do.) The point is – THIS -When your finances start to dwindle, you will not be able to check-in to the most luxurious resorts. When your health declines, and youth starts to fade, you will still have room-service…When you decide you want to retire early and live off of twinkles and beer, there will always be a motel6..

I am not a tourist, and I am certainly not The Four Seasons. When the love is right, I would rather live with a man throughout his dealings with some extra weight, baldness, ED..(just saying..we are human..shit happens!), than a tourist. Simply because that man will think twice before checking out.

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