The Narcissist
Prelude: I’m writing a book, and this is one of my favorite chapters because it’s raw, electric, and deeply personal. My soul needs it out in the world. It’s a portal into a side of me that most don’t know. This is the wild woman at the wheel. Primal. Unapologetic. Fully alive. Consider this your invitation into her world.
Every story has a soundtrack.
The Narcissist and I met at a Scorpio Underworld Party a halloween theme night dripping in shadow play, temptation, and every one of my deepest, darkest fantasies. It was my first real initiation into the Boulder spiritual scene, the one that had been subtly seducing me with every ecstatic dance, T-Group and every full moon Star House sacred cacao sound healing.
Let me tell you, it grabbed me the moment I saw the invitation.
“This isn’t an Invitation. This is an Initiation.
SCORPIO UNDERWORLD PARTY
You’ve felt the pull. A night carved in the shape of a Scorpio’s shadow: deep, intoxicating, untamed. We gather under the cloak of night to honor those born of mystery and fire. The ones who burn and rise again. Who seduce with a glance and destroy with a true.
This is for the Scorpios. The alchemists. The ones who dance with death to make room for birth. Dress like desire and move like magic. So wear your velvet, lace, your most hedonistic expression.”
Was this night created for me? Because it was giving main character energy. The stars didn’t just align, the conspired in the heart of Scorpio season. It was a birthright. The veil thinned and the spotlight found me.
I RSVPed immediately. Then spent the next few days raiding Michaels and every thrift store within a 10-mile radius, crafting the most unapologetically me Scorpio look imaginable. Celestial chaos, but make it couture. Because I wasn’t just attending any event this was the met gala of Scorpio szn and I am the star.
I revived my hair extensions from the dead..still perfectly curled and slightly shellacked from my sister’s wedding a few months ago. Big hair. Bigger secrets. Honestly, the energy was spot on for the moment. I should have been working on my freelance project but instead spending hours curling hair extensions.
October 28, 2022: Scorpio Underworld Party at the Morrison Mansion
It was a chilly late October night as I drove, barely dressed, feeling the chill and the entire spectrum of emotions - excited, wildly primal, Sexy and a little scared.
I didn’t know a single soul going. I’d tried to rally my friends..most of whom were hardcore mountain crushers, so an all-night party dripping in deviant Scorpio energy wasn’t exactly their vibe. They had alarms set for 5 a.m. to chase powder, not pulsating dance floors. If it snowed, they'd toss their skis in the car and hit the road at dawn, racing I-70 traffic to get to Winter Park before the lifts opened.
Anyways, it wasn’t a night to play it safe. It was a night to rewrite the script. My identity was rooted into the Mountain Girl, who sends it off mountains on her bike and skis. But tonight was the beginning of something else. A shedding, a rebirth, just as the Scorpio intended.
I showed up to the Morrison mansion, a community home perched high on the hill in Morrison, CO. I parked and checked my bag to make sure I had all my essentials. Before heading in, I sat in the Zenhaus for a second, did a quick bag check: change of clothes, flask of tequila, a bottle of wine, one tab of acid, and absolutely zero regrets.
I was really excited about the fact that my friend Trey, who had been in town recently for King Glizzard, had gifted me a tab of acid as a thank-you for crashing at my place. I’d been waiting for the right moment to drop it and tonight was the night. …And I don’t want to give it away but let’s just say I dropped more than acid.
My heart pounded with anticipation, and I walked in. The energy was electric. Glittering neon painted bodies shimmered under the neon lights, the stars, barely clothed.. goddesses in golden thongs and red lace, men with devil horns and primal looking loin clothes, everyone unapologetically embodied. I had never been in a space with so little fabric, yet I didn’t flinch. In fact, I’d always craved this kind of liberation.
I arrived just as the Cacao Ceremony was beginning..so much for the dramatic entrance I had envisioned. I slipped quietly into the back, finding my place among the crowd, waiting for the love elixir to pour into my chalice.
With a quick glance to either side, I unzipped my bag and slipped out the little plastic baggie. My tab of acid was still right where I left it, tucked away like a secret. Not that anyone would’ve noticed or cared. But still this was the moment. It felt so wrong yet felt so right. I let it dissolve as I chased it with my cacao.
As the acid hit, the air became ripe with desire, distortion, the kind of energy that makes time blur and boundaries dissolve.
I danced into other realms, dancing like the cosmic queen I was, crowned in a DIY halo of kabob skewers spray-painted black. However, my crown turned into a weapon as I tore up the dancefloor and started tearing into faces. The glitter and sequined covered smiles dramatically turned into disapprovals. Their irritation cut through the haze and that was my cue to take a breather.
I drifted to many places, following the vibes, the cute guy who tried to lure me into a “temple room” with a bottle of merlot, and my own curiosity until I danced my way upstairs.
The space was a kaleidoscope of live painting, cuddle puddles, impromptu massages. I was absolutely mesmerized by the live painter as he brought to life a black-ink portrait of what looked like a Geisha, her face serene and powerful.
The lights around us flickered in technicolor rave tones magenta, cobalt, ultraviolet. The music pulsed through the walls of my chest, and for a moment, everything slowed. It was there, in the eye of that electric storm, that he, The Narcissist appeared.
Mysterious. Magnetic. Dangerous in a way I didn’t yet have the language to name.
“Oh, look, he’s painting your portrait…” as he slid in beside me with that smooth, effortless charm.
He glowed, bare-chested, daring green eyes, wearing a pink hat with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how good he looked. Right in my sweet spot age-wise, and definitely younger than my ex, who was equally as charming but twice my age.
He introduced himself as “Arathnakong.”
“Wow… what a beautiful uh name,” I said, confused. I was deep in my trip and his name hit my ears like a hallucination, a riddle wrapped in a chant.
Arathna-what? I felt unsteady, disoriented in the best and worst way. Internally, I was quietly spiraling. Is this another spiritual name that I should know? Sanskrit, maybe? I’d met plenty of Anandas, Padme’s Om-somethings, and at least 10 people with the last name “Love”. However this one felt like it came from a Planet of the Apes movie.
I truly was speechless. I looked at him, blushing and smiled awkwardly.
Then he laughed. “I’m just kidding. That’s not actually my name.”
Of course it wasn’t. And somehow, that little moment of confusion made the whole exchange even kinkier, like he’d slipped the rug out from under me just to watch me stumble, playful and deliberate.
And in my acid-soaked mind, surrendering to the charm of an attractive, middle-aged man with just the right amount of mystery... it felt dangerously irresistible, intoxicating with that smile of his. I tried to play it cool, flirtatiously aloof, but let’s be honest, this wasn’t exactly the kind of environment where hard to get made sense.
And just like that, I let the dark cloak of scorpio szn: the Narcissist whisked me into the night. We didn’t sleep, we spiraled into each other, wide awake and wildly infatuated, lost in the illusion of something that felt like fate.
After a couple hours of a psychedelic-laced rendezvous, The Narcissist and I fell asleep on an outdoor lounge chair next to a fire. The man was radiating so much heat I actually felt pretty warm despite the fact that it was in the low 30s and most of my clothes had disappeared at that point. So around 3am we made our way back inside, upstairs, to the same exact spot where we met and dozed off, again, in each other's arms.
I felt movement as the Narcissist left our makeshift bed on the floor. It woke me instantly. Light started to dance around the room so I was able to watch him move through the space, bare-chested, pants slung low enough to reveal those dangerously cute lower back dimples. And suddenly, the cute booty dimples disappeared as he descended downstairs. Something flipped in me. Not the soft kind of longing. The other kind.
So I followed him, wrapped in nothing but a blanket and pure instinct. He was in the kitchen, mid-conversation with someone when I walked in, but without missing a beat, he turned and introduced me. I couldn’t tell you a single word that was said. I was too focused on what I wanted to do with him. Is this what love is?
“Come here,” I said, sharp. Commanding. Leading him away from his friend and into the unknown. Scorpio mode, fully activated.
He hesitated. I didn’t.
I let the blanket slip, just enough skin to send a message. My walk turned slow, deliberate, the fabric trailing lower with every step until it dipped just below my hips. I didn’t need to look back to know he was following. I led him through a quiet labyrinth of corridors, searching for what I imagined were temple rooms.
Instead, I ended up in the same room Merlot Guy had tried to lure me into the previous night. Predictable. Still, it was empty so I pulled the desk chair into the center of the room and told the narcissist to sit. He looked confused. I looked determined.
I dropped to my knees like a scene out of a movie, only I was directing now. I undid his pants without a word and took him into my mouth like I owned him. Like this was mine. And maybe it was.
This wasn’t about pleasing him, it never was. This was about meeting the part of myself I’d always kept caged. The one who doesn’t ask, she takes. The dominatrix in me wasn’t soft or seductive, she was precise, feral, and fully awake. For the first time, I felt untouchable. A priestess at her temple that didn’t belong to her.
Only it didn’t. Out of nowhere, a man stirred in the lofted bed above. He blinked through his hungover state and muttered, “This isn’t a temple room. This is my room. You need to leave.”
Meanwhile, I still had a dick in my mouth. We froze. The Narcissist jumped out of the chair lifting his pants up. Then bolted. No shame, just velocity and a lot of laughter. And just like that, snap, he decided it was time to go. Together..
“We’re meant to connect more,” he said, eyes locked in, like he was delivering a prophecy.
He insisted on coming back to my place, wanting to "keep the energy flowing.” Meanwhile, all I wanted was food from Whole Paycheck and a bed, alone. And now, it was time to play hard to get, right? The start of the game I never really agreed to play.
Of course, he lived up the street in the middle of cow country between Boulder and Longmont. Of course, he made it sound like a favor. Convenience disguised as care. But I didn’t care. Also I drove there so I could drive home. I was under the spell. Lust, fantasy, the whole thing.
And in true unhinged delusional fashion, I wrote him a poem that morning.
I was in love with a mystery. A feeling. A desire.
Because obviously I was keeping the energy flowing. I texted him, “You inspired me”. Poem sent. For a man I didn’t know, who had already triggered something toxic in me. I mistook intensity for deep soul love.
For “The Narcissist”
Once upon a time in the foothills of Boulder
Life was the same until it got colder
Autumn air, beckoning dare, no time to retreat
Ride through the mountains our destination to meet
Untamed energy, wild hearts spreading love
Feeling my rhythm, that called me above
Synergetic paradise my trance was distracted
Veil off my eyes, your pink hat attracted
Your invite appeared, the portrait of connection
A silhouette of black, painted my heart’s affection
Darkness took over, unphased by our light
Our fantasies uncovered, with no end in sight
Crisp morning air, sleeplessly impaired
Melted in your arms, a freedom so rare
A whirlwind of feelings, your wonder alive
Unknown if our bond will wither or thrive
Let the cosmos take course, nature’s forces are wise
Now to this moment let me swim in your eyes
A reservoir so deep pulled in by your tide
Two souls on this journey, with hearts open wide
October 2022
