King Baby - A Tale Of Narcissism (An AI collaborative fairytale)

 

Once upon a time, in a kingdom that had once been beautiful and thriving, there ruled a man known as King Baby. Though he was a grown man, the nickname suited him perfectly, for he ruled with the petulance and selfishness of a spoiled child. Ever since King Baby ascended to the throne, the kingdom had suffered under his tyranny.

The lands, once green and bountiful, were now withered and barren. Trees that used to bear fruit had begun to die. Flowers no longer bloomed, and the ground, which had once yielded rich harvests, barely provided enough to feed the people. The rivers ran shallow, and even the animals seemed to vanish. Worst of all, the joy and laughter of the people had disappeared, replaced by a heavy gloom that hung over the kingdom like a dark cloud.

But King Baby didn’t care. He sat upon his golden throne, growing fatter and more indulgent by the day, feasting on the best foods while his people starved. He ordered his servants to gather all the finest fruits, the choicest meats, and the freshest vegetables for his own table, leaving the rest of the kingdom with scraps. He hoarded the kingdom’s resources, draining it dry without a second thought.

The people, once vibrant and full of life, grew sad and weary. They no longer smiled at one another as they passed in the streets. Their eyes were dull, their backs bent from the weight of their burdens. Yet King Baby noticed none of this. All he saw was his overflowing plate and his expanding wealth.

For ten long years, King Baby’s greed and bloated ego drained the kingdom of life. And then, one day, a new threat emerged. A neighboring king, one who was known for his strength and wisdom, set his eyes on King Baby’s weakened kingdom. This new king had a mighty army, well-trained soldiers, and strong horses. His lands were fertile, and his people loyal. He knew it would take little effort to claim King Baby’s crumbling kingdom for himself.

When word of the threat reached King Baby’s ears, he flew into a panic. For the first time in years, he realized that his throne was in danger. He issued frantic edicts, demanding that every able-bodied man in the kingdom take up arms and defend the land. He held town hall meetings, ordered his soldiers to put up flyers, and spread the word that every man must join the fight to save the kingdom.

But the people were unmoved. After years of being neglected, robbed, and left to suffer, they no longer cared what happened to the kingdom—or to their king. When King Baby gathered the men of the kingdom at the palace to give them their marching orders, the men did something shocking.

They sat down.

King Baby, red-faced and sputtering, demanded to know why they weren’t preparing for battle. The men looked at one another and shrugged. They had no desire to fight for a king who had never fought for them. They had no reason to defend a kingdom that had brought them only misery.

King Baby threw the tantrum of all tantrums. He stomped his feet, punched the air, and screamed that they were ungrateful traitors. He threatened to throw them in the dungeon, to take away what little they had left. But no matter how much he raged, the men stayed seated, their arms crossed and their faces grim.

When the new king’s army finally arrived at the kingdom’s gates, the townspeople didn’t resist. In fact, they welcomed the invading forces. They parted ways, opening a clear path to the palace, allowing the new king to march straight to King Baby’s throne without a single drop of blood being shed.

King Baby, seeing that his own people had abandoned him, was furious. He called them all sorts of names—traitors, cowards, treacherous—but the people remained silent, indifferent to his rage.

In a last, desperate act of cowardice, King Baby fled the kingdom. He gathered what little he could carry, saddled a horse, and rode away into the night, leaving behind the ruins of a once-great land.

The new king, upon taking the throne, immediately set about restoring the kingdom. He planted new trees, tended to the crops, and gave the people hope once more. Slowly but surely, life returned to the land. Flowers bloomed, the rivers flowed strong, and the people began to smile again. They greeted each other in the streets, and the dark cloud that had hung over the kingdom for so long began to lift.

As for King Baby? He wandered the lands, aimless and alone, a shadow of his former self. He never found another throne, and no kingdom would ever let him rule again.

And so, the lesson of King Baby was learned: a ruler who cares only for himself will always lose the love of his people. But a king who rules with wisdom, fairness, and kindness will always be remembered, long after his reign is over.

And the kingdom lived happily ever after.

The end 🕊️

The Sympathy Olympics

 

Recently, I was in my room, getting ready to eat dinner, when someone came in and closed the door behind them. They said they wanted to talk, and then started telling me about how people have problems—problems you may not see because they come to work with a smile on their face and don’t share everything they’re going through. She told me that I might think people wouldn’t understand what I’m going through, but that they do, because they’re dealing with things too. I was really confused. I had no idea what she was talking about. She continued talking about other people’s problems, including her own, saying she has issues but still comes to work, smiles, and does her job.

After five or six minutes of this, I stopped her and said that I understood people have problems. I’m in the hospital, surrounded by people on two floors who are all dealing with problems—people with varying levels of abilities. Some are paralyzed, some are amputees, some have organ issues, or different mental disabilities—you name it. And I’ve been here since 2023, working on my own issues and challenges. So I told her I didn’t understand why she felt the need to tell me that I needed to be mindful of other people’s problems. Then I asked her directly, “Why are you telling me this? What did I do or say that made you think I wasn’t sensitive or empathetic to other people’s problems?”

She didn’t have an answer. She wouldn’t explain why she felt the need to have this conversation with me. Then she switched it up, saying that she was telling me all of that because she knew I would understand—because of what I’m going through—and that she felt comfortable talking to me.

That was a couple of days ago, and it still sits with me strangely. It takes me back to all the times when I’ve been dealing with my own issues, and for some reason, someone takes issue with me taking care of myself. Subtly, I’m told I’m being selfish for looking after my own health and well-being, that I need to be more considerate and remember that other people have problems too. It’s such an awful conversation to have with someone who’s literally an inpatient at a hospital with major limitations.

It’s crazy how some people will find anything to compete with others about. I’ve heard this called the “Sympathy Olympics.” It’s when you’re going through a hard time or dealing with an illness, and instead of offering help or a listening ear, the person tries to “one-up” you with details of their own problems. If you stub your toe, they broke theirs. If you lost a dollar, they lost ten. It turns into this sick game where they feel the need to outdo your struggles, as if being sicker or more injured makes them somehow “better.”

Don’t get me wrong—this happens in all areas of life. These envious, competitive people will have secret competitions with you in their minds. You may not even know what’s going on, but for them, they’re watching you and feel competitive for some reason. What surprised me most was that this happened based on my injuries and disabilities. Who wants to win the “I’ve got it worse than you” competition?

Personally, I think it’s bizarre. There’s never a time or place where I’d want to compete on such a dysfunctional level. What’s even worse is the underlying message when people do this—they’re telling you that you’re not important, that what you’re going through isn’t important. They minimize your experience and place their problems on top of yours, just to keep you humble and remind you that everything isn’t always about you. They might think they’re knocking you down a peg, without realizing you weren’t even thinking that way to begin with.

This brings me back to one of the most important quotes I’ve heard in the past five years. I don’t know who said it, but I saw it on Instagram a while ago: “The first thing you need to know about me is that I am not you. A lot more will make sense after that.” When she told me I needed to be more mindful of other people’s problems, I immediately thought, “This has nothing to do with me.” And because that was my first thought, I quickly became irritated.

It’s really hurtful when people make up their own narrative about you, choose to believe it, and then spread it to others. That kind of mind-reading and storytelling causes so much misunderstanding and unnecessary drama. Unfortunately, I will always be on alert when dealing with this person now. I’ll always question what they’re really saying. It’s disappointing, especially when you kind of like the person.

But I’ve learned my lesson. There comes a time when you have to start paying attention to what people are doing the first time around. Their behavior will always tell you more than their words ever could. It’s true for me, and I believe it’s true for many people: we don’t want to think the worst of others. We want to believe they didn’t mean it, or maybe they were just having a bad day. And all of that can be true. But there are certain things people do that you don’t need to see a second time—abusive actions, manipulative behaviors, people who minimize your experiences, or those who use what they know about you to hurt you. These people don’t deserve second chances. You should care about yourself too much to allow those types of people near your heart. 

Greed Knows No Limit

 

Imagine sitting with three friends, all hungry and complaining that there’s nothing to eat. So, you decide to take whatever is left in the refrigerator and whip up a meal for them. You place it in front of them, and they gobble it up. But when you come back to the table, they’re clearly full, yet still look so dissatisfied. You ask them what’s wrong, and they start complaining about the quality of the food, the temperature, and even wonder why there wasn’t any dessert.

Now, I don’t know about you, but at that point, I’d pack up whatever I had left and carry myself back home. For greedy people, nothing is ever enough. You could give them the clothes off your back, food from your own kitchen, money from your own pocket—you could build them an entire house—and it still wouldn’t be enough.

It’s important to recognize people with a greedy spirit. They are what many refer to as “energy vampires.” At first, you might think, “What did I do wrong here?” But after dealing with them for a while, you realize you can never do enough. Even when you provide exactly what they lack, they’ll still find something to complain about. Whether they realize it or not, greed tests how much it can drain from a situation. If you walk away, they might feel a certain way, but more often than not, they’ll just wait for the next person with a good heart to come along and try to help them.

Some greedy people have mastered this game. Some have made a living by making others feel guilty for not doing enough. You can see this dynamic in some marriages and family relationships, where one person constantly uses guilt to make others cater to their needs. And no matter how much is done for them, they always want more. That’s what we mean when we say someone is “spoiled rotten.”

Greedy people are toxic, whether they’re aware of it or not. Sometimes greed runs so deep in families that it gets passed down through generations. It can be so subtle that even if you point it out, they’ll be shocked that you think that way. They may claim they have “high standards” or “high expectations,” and there’s nothing wrong with that. Having high standards is great, but greedy people have impossible standards—nothing is ever enough.

Once you recognize you’re dealing with someone who has a greedy spirit, it’s easy to address the situation—unless, of course, you’re married to them or share a close family connection. If you’re dealing with greedy coworkers, friends, or neighbors, you can simply stop providing whatever it is they’re taking from you. There’s no need to feel guilty about not doing enough or about their lack of appreciation. You get to decide how much or how little you want to do for others.

In deeply personal relationships, however, the dynamic is more complex. You may want to maintain some connection, but feel drained by their constant “needs.” In such cases, seeking counseling on how to set boundaries and, most importantly, releasing yourself from the guilt of doing what’s best for you is essential.

Being a generous person is a beautiful thing, and the world needs people who can express generosity safely. The challenge for those with generous hearts is learning when and where to give, how much is appropriate, and when to stop.