(no subject)
"Stop that."
He can hear her saying so before he makes a move. Then she tells him that he doesn't need another one, and he complains for a little while. Then he goes and does it anyway, because only telling him won't work. He has to be disciplined.
He collects people. It's an impulse with him, a need to surround himself with love and adulation. He needs the praise and the trust and for others to have faith in him, because he has no faith in himself. It's only a partial solution. None of them have the wit to see what he truly is, what he does, to really appreciate what it is he's doing or what he says. If they did, they would see that he's made of shadow and straw, and much dirtier on the inside than he pretends to be. If they knew what he was they would hate him. Loathe him, feel disgust at the mention of his names.
And escaping that is the reason he surrounds himself with sycophantic followers. What would be the point in spoiling their illusion?
She watches him with resignation and regret, watching as he walks up to a person and strips down layer after layer of their defenses, picking out what appeals to them most and laying it at their feet. Then they come along like lambs. It won't work. No matter how many people he surrounds himself with the quantity can never make up for the quality time spent with one person who sees him for what he is, who knows not only what he is but how to keep up with him, how to challenge him. All those clichés that are true to him, truths that are hard to find. Few enough people can keep up with him, fewer still whom he can tolerate.
He needs the people around him to admire him because it's more likely that he'll find them than someone who meets all his exacting criteria. And there's always the off chance that if he finds one, or two, or three people who need him, who admire him and who he can take care of, then he'll find someone to take care of him as well. Maybe. It's possible.
He wouldn't hold out any hope. That's what his collection is for.
He can hear her saying so before he makes a move. Then she tells him that he doesn't need another one, and he complains for a little while. Then he goes and does it anyway, because only telling him won't work. He has to be disciplined.
He collects people. It's an impulse with him, a need to surround himself with love and adulation. He needs the praise and the trust and for others to have faith in him, because he has no faith in himself. It's only a partial solution. None of them have the wit to see what he truly is, what he does, to really appreciate what it is he's doing or what he says. If they did, they would see that he's made of shadow and straw, and much dirtier on the inside than he pretends to be. If they knew what he was they would hate him. Loathe him, feel disgust at the mention of his names.
And escaping that is the reason he surrounds himself with sycophantic followers. What would be the point in spoiling their illusion?
She watches him with resignation and regret, watching as he walks up to a person and strips down layer after layer of their defenses, picking out what appeals to them most and laying it at their feet. Then they come along like lambs. It won't work. No matter how many people he surrounds himself with the quantity can never make up for the quality time spent with one person who sees him for what he is, who knows not only what he is but how to keep up with him, how to challenge him. All those clichés that are true to him, truths that are hard to find. Few enough people can keep up with him, fewer still whom he can tolerate.
He needs the people around him to admire him because it's more likely that he'll find them than someone who meets all his exacting criteria. And there's always the off chance that if he finds one, or two, or three people who need him, who admire him and who he can take care of, then he'll find someone to take care of him as well. Maybe. It's possible.
He wouldn't hold out any hope. That's what his collection is for.