Many of the events that I considered at the time to be coincidental I now realize were carefully prearranged to come to completion in the exact way they would eventually transpire, generally to my temporary detriment. My naivety caused these miscalculations, never rewarded others with those same purposeful manipulations I employed unendingly. In my partial defense my own motivations were never spiteful, malicious, splenetic, or ill-natured in any way, rather just displays of pure hedonism, having decided that my own particular picadilloes would automatically invest, pleasure, pervade, my chosen partners disposition unfailingly. The very height it must be said of unnatural self-conviction.
That I can now see the threads of manipulation, intrigue, liaison, quite plainly, is but proof that both wisdom and clarity leach increasingly through the broken mirror of the passing years, till the truth will eventually appear clarion, unobstructed by self-reflection.
As with the 17th century theatrical transformation scene, the metamorphosis of puppeteer to marionette is starkly revealing.