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



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.

The Ghosts by the River

The mist ascends over the river in the dark light absent night of a missing moon, that is not missed, simply missing, a vacant blankness with no space indicated that marks its blankness, no spot where a moon would even be, a blank canvas of lack of light.

I am standing staring out over the water, knowing only that there is even water there, because I am familiar with the place I am. Other than my presence of mind and awareness of where I am placed in time, there is no indicating factors that would suggest that I am anywhere at all, the night is black and I see nothing in front of me, and nothing below me.

I stare forward into the nothingness, keeping my presence of mind, by meditating on the painful cold that pounds in my skin, the rain is falling down on my hands and arms now, I say it that way.. because they are bare, I can’t feel it touch the rest of me.

I look out over the water, the only thing letting me know there is any separation between me and any of this, any perceiving instead of being oneness, is the fact that I remember being a being that sees.

There are slight beings of light on the water now, they dance in the nothing, looking like shadows, which is strange, because there is nothing to cast shadow on, they are dark, as dark as shadow and reflecting to my eyes or to my knowing, not sure which, and they speak to me, somehow I know them, I know their pain. They pace across the water saying nothing, and I can feel their pain, and then, it all fades, a light comes on, and I look up at a street light, there must have been a power outage.

A man is sitting on a bench alone, he asks me how long I have been there, says he didn’t know there was someone else watching, like him, the dancing on the water. I tell him I don’t know, and we leave it at that. He walks away.


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