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Does writing about yourself make you a narcissist?

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Already knowing the answer, I ran the question through AI. Autobiographical writing is not inherently "narcissistic" unless the writer herself is a narcissist. How do you tell the difference? Here's what AI said: does writing about your life make you a narcissist +11 No, writing about your life does not automatically make you a narcissist. While autobiographical writing is inherently self-focused, it is widely considered a therapeutic, creative, and generous act rather than a purely selfish one. Here is a breakdown of the distinction between documenting your life and narcissistic behavior: Why Writing About Your Life is Generally Not NarcissisticIt is Generous, Not Selfish: Sharing your stories, especially with descendants, is viewed as an act of generosity that preserves family history and provides lessons, not just vanity. It is Therapeutic: Writing can act as a form of therapy, helping people process trauma, recover from abusive situa...
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WHITE WITCH IN A BLACK ROBE

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As I read deeper into Wendy Hoffman's White Witch in a Black Robe, I'm struck by many things: the quality of her writing, intense and poetic. The videographic detail as she recalls events and scenes from her childhood inside a cult family who sold her to the Illuminati, not a shadowy abstraction in her story. She sees a cheque for $1,000,000 change hands as she's trafficked to royalty in Germany, England, the Vatican - and also "hot countries" in Asia, Africa, Latin America. She makes it clear, through little-girl eyes, that this is how the planet is governed. In case you were wondering. At age 10 she is chosen as a future Queen for her psychic abilities, but in fact she is a child sex slave, forced to abuse and kill other children, kidnapped by criminal gangs and sold for human sacrifice on a global, industrial scale. Another survivor, Jesse Czebotar describes the exact same scenarios naming the same entities, players and rituals. However tempting to dismiss t...
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Roach Motels Are Not Built in a Day #2

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1 confess. After half a lifetime of not knowing Mick Jagger, I landed on Mustique in 1992. The man who came out to meet me remembered me as a child and also the stupid girl who rejected him - maybe I was the reason he married other women but stayed "free" never trusting any of them. Trust was something he always brought up in our chats over years. He didn't trust me. He said it over and over like a mantra and I never knew why. Why should he trust me? I didnt remember him. Therefore I didnt remember breaking his heart. I thought we had met for the first time in 1992 on Mustique- it wasnt even a meeting- more like a failed mission. I never understood why he wrote a song about it. I didnt see any of the other songs as being about me but I did start listening and watching videos to get to know him better. I decided, on the basis of a hypnotic regression and comments from psychics that we had known each other in past lifetimes. I kept on believing that, while we chatted,...
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I Get It

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I think I get this "love" thing and all the confusion it causes. Andrew Loog Oldham posted a photo today on Instagram, so he's probably still alive somewhere although the photo is of a man walking alone in a beautiful forest on a wooden crosswalk. Soon we will all cross over -- in the meantime I'm grateful to Andrew for what he did at TRU six years ago even though much of it went right over my head. I understand what happened long ago between my family and Mick when I was a little girl, too little to know what was going on around me. Messing up every step of the way. When Mick used to say "I love you just the way you are" I was insulted. He could be so condescending. But then I suppose he had every right to pay me back for rejecting him so many years ago, and finally forgetting I even knew him. We were in a competition and I was the winner of the rejection contest - But then, I was set up to fail, time and again. First by being too small and later too...
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Roach motels were not built in a day

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Have you ever tried to write a script? Do you know how long it takes researching, writing a treatment, developing scenes and a storyboard, producing a finished script -- ? Let alone funding, casting, shooting and editing a movie? Now that I have a treatment (mostly written over a very tough winter in Greece which is never a vacation, more like a season of SURVIVOR) I am working on a list of scenes. I'm not fundraising for the film -- its an ongoing project. The less than $4000 raised bought me some time to focus on writing. I did the writing. Now I'm back and the Montreal Experiments Memory Project is well underway -
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The Cockroaches

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Launched on my 75th birthday, and reminiscent of the first Rolling Stones single which the band members secretly bought in quantities to drive it up the hit parade charts, the new vinyl single by the Cockroaches sold out in hours, leaving many fans angry and disappointed. Not me. What would I do with a vinyl disc? I really only cared about the lyrics and whether or not they illuminate my story, which I call the British invasion I found them on line, along with a bootlegged mp3, and by George, by gum, they do relate to me. I'll explain why later but meanwhile you can read them for yourself. Rough and Twisted Yeah, why don't you drive me Down that rough and twisted road Why don't you guide me Cause I don't know which way to go Promise to take me Down to where the water glows Somewhere, somwehere down to Puerto Rico Where the tide just ebbs and flows Fetch me all your jewelery Poetry and friends? Promise me I dance like Nijinski Nothing, nothin...
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Yes, really

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Until the age of 12, and without my knowing it, I was being groomed as the future bride of a future British pop star. "Future" is the operative word here, because my intended future never arrived. It was canceled for several reasons, mostly because I opted out, beginning at age 8 -- and later at 12 when they flew me to England and I witnessed reality at Edith Grove. Child trafficking by any other name. At age 8 I began to ditch the plan after reading The Little Mermaid which plunged me into an emotional crisis. The "fate" of the little mermaid was a grim, conscious choice to abandon her Prince after a series of traumatic shocks made it clear to her that she wasn't cut out for life as a Princess. Her fairytale lover is too self absorbed and busy being a Prince to see her for who she is, while in various ways she is crippled by her deal with the witch. Her tongue gets cut out and the legs she acquires make walking on land unbearably painful. Besides, she...
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