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She'd gotten me half way across the continent to help her fight a supposedly recently-diagnosed cancer. It was actually a long-since-diagnosed cancer and she was eating jam straight from the jar for all her meals. The truth was that she didn't want her dogs to eat her corpse or any of the neighbors coming in and stealing anything from her mountains of natural cancer cures and expensive appliances and militia-sized arsenal and other valuables.
Ms. Legendary Internet Compassion did not mind even one little bit abusing me that egregiously to get what she wanted.
Her best friend on earth was Granny Fussbudget, a man who is maybe the very most misanthropic, and heavily to the misogynist end of that spectrum, person I've ever met, and who ended up admitting to me that he has NO friends, that none of the people in his life are friends, that this IS the way he wants it.
He is a sugar addict, a chain-smoking sugar addict, who disdains consumption of any food not full of chemicals, and who is floridly allergic to truth, craving only wild imagining that is unfortunately very heavy to the negative end of that spectrum.
The point of bringing this up is to say that psychopaths come in different forms. The global control kind are lizards driving human suits. The other kind were technically born human but SO divorced from their spirits they spend all their free time away from manipulating us to death trying to murder them.
It's the charlatan's homicidal urges that propel them through life. By the time they realize it's really suicide, they don't care. The oceans of shame seem far worse to them than killing themselves.
pipe up any time....
