The goal of this site is simple, to find kindness in the world, and establish connection through the act of clarity that comes with meditating on human connection and sobriety, peace, joy, and serenity.

This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to serve misery.

Thank you, your compliment and reading this means the world to me, for explanation I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills. I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-criminal/ex-homeless vagrant who is writing instead of committing crime on the street corners of this country or the voice of the drug epidemic screaming on here instead of tweaking and shooting heroin on a corner while holding a sign and waiting for my man.

Characters thus far

Joy

Diane

Damien de Soto

Rei Clearly

All characters are me, or my pen names, or my imaginary friends, or my split personalities, dramatized fictionalized, scape goats, captive in my mind.

I love to talk but hate my voice

So sorry I have no choice but to not pay attention to what I say fighting to go away in my mind, while I speak my voice sounding like awkward door creak, screaming cry or breaking glass, pound on floor, or kicking ***, awkward and unpleasant I am, I don’t know why anyone stands to be around me at all, why they won’t let me heed the siren’s call of death that comes to me in night.

I don’t know why they want me to stay here, just to fight with myself and with them, stupid ideas pushed by the desire to defend nothing but my desire to be right and to be in constant fight, desiring only to hurt and push away so alone I forever stay, everyone please go away… I can’t handle you in any way.

I am weak and you are not, my temper is quick, it make me rot in corners where I sit alone, hate voices and hate the phone, I don’t get it. You say you do, but how can you, that is not true. It makes no sense, it really doesn’t… Sometimes I wish I simply wasn’t……


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