I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.

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

Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.

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-homeless person.

Characters thus far

Joy

Diane

Damien de Soto

Rei Clearly

POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION

First person

Blog post style

Dark horror fiction

Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.

Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.

The laugh of a ghost, siren, siphoning of pieces of me, or I cut off pieces of my soul and let you throw them out and replace them with nothing.

I am Swiss cheese…..

Except I am not Swiss, and not cheese…

Just a real person… or

Human soul

Full of metaphysical holes in my

Self or the idea of everything I am.

I dug them myself because she told me she would help me, and I am stupid and gullible and believed her/him when he/she told me she loved me. I don’t know why that gives her/him the right to put holes in me.. okay? I don’t even know what love is, and no one had ever told me they loved me, not like that… so I listened to everything he/she said…. I would have jumped off a….Not really…. I would have done almost anything they asked me to, even if it hurt me, and he/she used that to make me do whatever they wanted on a mission for drugs,

And it was so obvious to everyone except me, even those who hated me, would tell me

You realize you are just her source right?

I was just her source of elation and she was everything to me.

I want to….

I could cry, if I wasn’t so numb because my soul hurts.

Please God, can I find something real, please God, please God,,, I don’t want to be alone…I am so sorry for everything I did.. please don’t…. I don’t want to be alone anymore…

Writing that really helped me. The last part, which means prayer just helped me. Thank you to my higher power, I am not crying anymore, numb. sad. but stopped crying.

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