The Proverbial Hate Campaign

 It seems that with every accomplishment I achieve these days, the hate just gets deeper like the twist of the knife. Apparently it's the punishment for not living up to her undivided importance, tho I can't quite figure as to what end. Like the accusations of dependency on "white privilege". Say nothing what this lot did to sabotage every escape. Like all the stalkers who my father called his comrades, only too willing to offer subterfuge for sexual favours. All the would be employers fobbed off by my drunken sister in law, or the phone calls I was never informed about, before the advent of mobile phones. I know the contempt of these insults are aimed at my integrity, but to prove what to who? Thanks but no thanks. Whatever crusade this weirdo is on, makes no sense in the real world other than paranoid projection, making it up wherever reason fails.

The Rival Sibling

 Since the sex change, I've been forbidden the reference "brother", "he", etc. despite the 63 years of enduring this calamity. Well, since that large tumour was removed from between the two hemispheres, the convolutions have escalated to mind-boggling proportions. Not sure if it was the cause of the mayhem, because this person was always on the contrary, forever trying to engage me in a battle of wits, as if I should be some contender; and that as far back as I can remember. All fine and well if it wasn't for that overweening flaw in that reasoning, namely the imposing narcissism like a bulldozer wherever faced with indifference. Taking to the offensive with insulting suppositions against me wherever logic fails to justify or indignance fails to satisfy.

I got up this morning at 7, and venturing to make myself a cup of tea, discovered my honey had disappeared off the table. "Now where the hell did that go?" I nattered to myself. I received the prompt response, "it's in your fridge", from the far corner of the flat. Puzzled, I retorted, "why that? It doesn't belong there..." "Well, I don't know where you put these things" she declined. "If that's the case, then why put it in my fridge?" I guess that question threw a wrench because it made the imposition obvious. I actually got an "I'm sorry" from the blighter, mind you, followed by a "I like to keep things fresh". I simply retired to my little office beside the living room.  At some point, the drama queen pitches up with- "my girlfriend is not on speaking terms because of my fucked situation, blah, blah, blah. I only have 6 euros left on my account blah blah blah. I said, "well, if you need anything from the store, I can foot the bill. That's when the insults started flying about what an allegedly comfortable and appraised life I've been leading and some punishment she has in store for me when she leaves for NZ. "Fine then," I withdrew, "go fuck yourself anyway. Then she started on about how moralistic and provident my renomee is, which only made me laugh as I let the music drown out this meaningless rubbish for whatever it's trying to get at. I'll be glad when Wolfgang arrives and I can bugger off where I can't be reached. Like I really need this after singularly wet-nursing two other psychos for 10 years of my life.

Fuck this noise.

Give it up

Bro finished his cancer treatments a couple of weeks ago, after they removed a huge tumor that had grown from between the hemispheres. We're not sure how long he had this thing. He was always contrarian if not trapped in some kind schism, so it's hard to say whether it was the cause or not. Just the same, the suspicions of ADHD and the narcissistic tendencies. These things seem to have been going on since day one. Then there's these personal attacks he launches whenever his plans fail, as if the rest of us should feel guilty for not making some ultimate sacrifice on his delusional behalf.   Forever trying to bullbate me into his pseudological entrapment of pros and cons, even trying to humiliate me on social media.

As much as he hated his parents (mind you, they were no better) he was their golden boy and I was that insubordinate little brat of a girl, allegedly only good as a galley slave for their failure as parents. Having my own formative years to contend with, I wanted no part of that blame game, as much as he tried to turn it on me- standing there gloating while they tried to beat it into me. Then after assembling a pity party with his claims that he was the abused one, wonders why they're playing the same game with him. Then there's the sex change like some wannabe feminist on steroids. I could go on and on about how deep in that twisted mind of his that I should have no other purpose in life than his. Well, with that kind of learning curve, I'm only too glad he wants to bugger off to the other side of the planet. In fact, if I had the money, he'd certainly be on the next plane far the fuck away from me.

Oligarchy

There’s a weird kind of mania that seems to overcome certain people past midlife, especially when they’ve been playing out that alpha dominance for much too long. New ideas and approaches are only seen as an outright threat to that insatiable comfort zone such oligarchs have instilled over the years. They’d sooner destroy or drag down the lot with them, than ever give up the game. Some experts say it’s too much testosterone that does that to people, even women, reduces reason down to that old knee-jerk reflex of clashing horns. I saw it in my father and numerous people of similar hierarchical obsession, come hell or high water, only to leave all in ruins. I’ve seen it in the government of those last 16 years. I see it in Erdogan and now especially Lukashenko and Putin. Closure paranoia never does listen to reason, nor seem to learn much from history. It’s all “Ich-GmbH” as we say in Germany.