Question of the ages.
Because the smile is so flashy white.
Because the light shining, when it shines, is so dazzling bright that everything else pales in comparison.
So I hold out for those moments. Those brief periods of payoff when everything else is forgotten.
And then the tears. With the brutal dismissal. And would there be care or empathy or kindness? No. The light is off, and it may or may not be switched on again. Whenever. It is not about me.
And so the world revolves around the narc. Planet Narc. You either like it or you don’t.



