Life need not be a fair game.  Playing on the emotions or beliefs of others in order to further your own goals should be on the table.  It simply makes sense.  If you do not rise up and take what should be yours – by any means necessary – then someone else will.  I do not necessarily view this as antisocial, but rather as intelligent.

The previous post dealt with what purpose there is for ASPD and/or sociopathic – gods, I need to find an all-encompassing term – individuals.  My discussions with other antisocials – maybe this could be the term? – suggested that many of us are simply trying to stave off boredom and that our purpose could be as simple as fighting that damnable state.   I argued that, no matter what purpose we define for ourselves, we antisocials have an advantage in seeing such purpose realized as we do not concern ourselves with taking a fair share of the “resources” that exist all around us.  No, it goes further than that.  Not only do we not require a fair share, we are masters of subterfuge when it comes to obtaining a more than fair share; we do not need to play nice with our gluttonous wants.

Those readers that have been following my blog for the last seven months have surely picked up on the fact that I have been evasive with my transgender roots.  I have hinted at the fact that it was not a traditional journey by any means and that it was taken in a most unorthodox manner.

My dysphoria is rooted in fetish from nearly two decades ago.  As an adolescent attempting to figure out their own sexuality, I heavily fetishsized  the transgender. That fetish would lead to a questioning of my own gender identity and eventually I realized that I might be happier as a female rather than male.  The fetish disappeared by my late teens, although the dysphoria grew and grew.

Without going into great detail: by the time I reached my early twenties, I realized that I needed to act on the questions and dysphoria that I had.  Knowing that many medical professionals would not grant the blessing of hormone replacement therapy to those that did not have the “correct” symptoms from earlier in life, I constructed words that I knew they wanted to hear.  I spoke of fictitious self-mutilation of my genitals and of a made-up childhood involving feminine-gendered activities.  Combined with blackmail that I had, it was enough to get clearance for the medical process that I desired.   I chose deceit rather than truth to get what I wanted at the time.

Such is an example of that which is the greatest gift of the antisocial: the ability to reach for the stars and to use any means necessary – trickery or force – to reach that goal.  The challenge that remains for each of us is to determine exactly that which we yearn for.   Subterfuge is an art that should be appreciated, as sometimes it is all anyone can use to achieve goals worthy of this life.

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