The Man
“Well, it may be the Devil or it may be the Lord But you're gonna have to serve somebody” - Bob Dylan
Once there was a man I knew who seemed to have it all. A loving family, a large house and nice car. This of course made him bored and he craved more attention. He seemed to mistake the comfort of everything going well with being bored. I found it strange he ignored the love of his family to seek it elsewhere. The people in the town knew of his ways. His wife wouldn’t accept it as she worshipped him. It still wasn’t enough. His taste for the finer things in life made him yearn for more.
He never found fulfilment. People around him in the firm he worked for displeased him. The sneer at people and side eye roll and grimace. They were devastated as he lied and said they stole from the company (they didn’t ) but it fit his narrative to fire them. Indeed he would speak about the theft to others, like a word assassin doing a character assassination on the innocent who crossed his path. They still hurt to this day, over his treatment, and this is just the people I knew about. The women were merely marionettes to him. He would use them to serve him and his ego.
A workman who was a family friend of the man decorated his home and the work he did he found faults with. One-upmanship was a game to the man. Like human chess. The man paid the workman, but changed the notes of the payment to one and two pences. His ruthlessness gave him a power high as faux superiority meant he was better than everyone. The man would laugh to others, after the workman left, about what he had done to him.
His vanity playing puppet master until his last breath.
He didn’t have time for the minuscule things - like his daughter's wedding, or to answer her cries for help about her abusive partner…why would it? He told her she deserved to be punched in the face. The call was left that he would appear to see her the next day. Every girl needs their dad. She sat with her baby at the window watching the cars come and go. He never arrived though. He wouldn’t gain anything from it. It didn’t serve him in that moment of time. He was all that mattered. One thing that he lived for was people being compliant to his needs and wants.
Birthdays came and went for the man, although his child loved him dearly - he would hand the gift vouchers back.
One birthday he didn't want to be with his daughter and he stuck a post-it note inside with words happy birthday. He didnt want to write a heartfelt happy birthday to her. She was only worth a post it note at best. The Wolf Of Wall street was his aspiration. If he disliked a person, it would make others in his company feel good in themselves - it meant they were accepted in that moment of time. Of course that changed depending on his mood.
He learned a new trick along the way of business - “The Power Of Suggestion”… sadly he wasn’t wise enough to know it only works if people believed him. If a person using the ‘power of suggestion’ is a compulsive liar, it doesn’t work. Such a shame to see him be an embodiment of the Emperors New Clothes.
Once a man who was identified by his smart suits and briefcase, he found himself being fired from companies later in life over his behaviour and lack of respect for others. His power faded. I found it sad in a way. The irony of marionette master who was too busy controlling those around him, rather than himself. Just disdain towards others until he lit his last cigar and bid adieu. A town of people he played off against one another, until they cut the strings if he wouldn’t. The marionette master stopped. Continuously searching for a time of comfort that never was. The man put photos of her abuser and rapist in an envelope as a parting gift. What was PTSD without a final gift? What a legacy to leave behind. A town of broken people, men and women. As his plans were executed, his misogynistic mistakes lives on as people still struggle to recover from his treatment. One thing I learned is to never fear the truth. A lot of people were affected by this man.
Bonds can be broken and memories fade
When the sun breaks through the clouds
I keep on walking up the hill
To see above the walls that were built.
In the end it all came down to him not being able to find peace in himself.
Fin
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