Page 16 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

You know the score.

More.

More.

More.

More.

Is there pride in flying high?”

He thrust his head upwards, dramatically, like he was gazing at the night sky looking for an answer, making us all jump at his erratic movement. We watched expectantly, as the dark, eerie silence pierced through us. Anticipation causing the breath to hitch in our throats, and make our hearts pound a little faster.

Then his head slumped forward, making him look like a scarecrow from a horror movie, as he went on.

“Or living hand to mouth on the cold, hard floor?

What makes your life superior?

What advantage do you have?

Apart from that bank balance from your overly generous dad.

The designer clothes.

The bags.

The money.

The greed.

Greed upon greed upon greed,

Until,

Greed multiplied by greed detaches you from what’s real.”

He paused, and you could hear a pin drop in the courtyard.

“So, I’ll ask you again.

What is this thing, pride?

Strip back the layers.

Go on.

Find out what lies behind,

the things that you own to bolster your life.

Things to make you feel worthy.

Things to make you feel seen.

Things to keep you living in the state of a dream.

Things that make you important.