A Tale of my Narcissism
When I was four years old for my birthday party in nursery school my mother asked me how I wanted my cupcakes decorated. And I said, “To look like me!” Yeah, it’s true, the proof is above. My mother did it. She made little stick figures of me, “Keatycakes!”. Now you may think, “she should’ve been declared clinically insane right then!”, and you are right, but I was not.
It’s a hard life to lead when you are your own favorite person. There’s no need to leave the house, everything you need is always with you. I’ve never believed my other half is out there because I am a fully sustained ecosystem with no need for anyone else. Well, for anyone else except for an entire audience of adoring fans. Precisely what you all are. That is completely necessary. You see, like with the cupcakes, you must have a captivated audience to ooh and aah at it.
This is precisely why I have a blog. I am a raging narcissist with no shame. If I am going through something the world must know, I can’t possibly endure it alone. I am but a fragile female who should have been lobotomized in 1943. And yet, I often forget I have this blog. Oops. But I digress.
Back to the cupcakes. I can only imagine what the reactions were of those around me because my self-absorbed child brain didn’t capture any of them. What did my classmates think? What did my mother think? Did she think “Wow I’ve done it! I created a future president!” No, she was probably like “What the actual fuck? This generation has taken “self-love” to new heights and will pay for it later.” And that is proof that we are all too soft now and need to toughen up because I definitely should have been bullied for bringing in cupcakes that were meant to look like me.