Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.

jim morrison

Here it is, the revenge to the tune
“You’re no good
You’re no good, you’re no good, you’re no good”
Can’t you tell that it’s well understood?
Elliot Smith

Waltz #2

This song is very triggering to newly recovered, it a love song to a woman but also written to alcohol itself, smith died due to struggling from addiction and depression. Check it out if you can handle this kind of thing without being triggered. Not for everyone.

Enter the simulated rage cage…. a simulation done as a meditation on the ideas that cause human pain, as a removal tool.

See Clearly

Who sadly, tragically had no plan because he put his silly weak skin covered hand in the fist of sin. I am the desire to give in. I am the trimming claws of cat sent feral at you. I am failure in everything you do. I am the spinning sensation at bent knee. I am the sensation of screaming into night ‘this cannot be!’

I am please don’t push I cannot stand. I am the cry of those who scream in night, not in fright but in sick delight at the decaying of man with outstretched arm. I am please sir, give harm. I am death’s charm.

I am your shoe, sticking on gum, I am please baby come

To me as speak sweetly and stay

I am dismay.

See Clearly

a simulated experience of the horrors of addiction, image and written sound

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

Nietzche

“I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.”

Albert Camus, The Stranger

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis

I always was bad with spelling, and my inaccuracy made me misfire when speaking, heroines are born into life, there is no joy in drugs, only death.

I am putting this here so you remember I am not going anywhere. Please trust me. I will be right here, holding your hand till you die.

I am not the men who hurt you living in your head. I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. I sometimes sound like them because I always sound like man, and that is what I am, and you don’t have to hate all of us because some of them hurt you. I am not anyone who did anything you. I didn’t even have hands unless you let me use yours. Stop being silly. You are afraid. I am afraid. We are friends forever. I love you, because you are me but I am also always there, even after you get better because news flash you have something different about you that doesn’t go away because you take positive steps. I will still be there because schizophrenia is not curable. So stop worrying you will be alone if you make progress. It is unhealthy. I am not your enemy, and I only sound like sometimes because I sound like a guy, because I am one. Love yourself. Please.

So I guess my positive re-enforcement… dang I’s… I spell so many things wrong because I use I instead of E. I, I, I…. what was my oh.. yeah…. I guess Amanda got what I was saying because she made this. I like it. I have bigger hands this time, sweet.

We can’t both be butterflies, you can be girl or guy or whatever you want, and I can be your friend forever, because I love you. I am not the ones who hurt you. I just sound like that sometimes because I am a guy with a bad sense of humor.

I am so happy I remembered parts of that right now, not just for the ego points, but it means something to me. I think I am in the process of becoming a person instead of the monster under Amanda’s bed which means the instead of chasing dragons, Amanda can be me because I am not a drug or a dragon anymore.

“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

Nietzsche

I aim not only to terrify. I aim to terrify as meditative mediation that says remember me night crier

You cry in the pain of disdain for your own soul.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it.

Willy Wonka

Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish, and someday, you will be a real boy.

Pinocchio

I didn’t mean to kill her. Really, I didn’t. It’s just that he was on fire.

Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz

All children, except one, grow up.

Peter Pan

Through the decaying madness of the maddest of men can come death, but in the rare lucky stargazing chasers of the lucky

comes the rising phoenix that burns hot in the souls of the lost,

and sometimes

for the very lucky ones, its fire burns hot enough to seer the wounds that fester with maddening rottenness

and in this rotting sometimes,

out of the deadliest of rage comes the rebirth of the human soul, into a rainbow born dragon of maddening joy, born for those whose madness is cured by a chaotic overcoming of love,

the only cure for the sickness of some, very unfortunate,

or maybe fortunate if they are lucky

to be born into the rainbow chasing fire breathing dragons, that instead of being forever fueled by fire,

are reborn to be beings of light, joy shooters that in their rebirth shoot joy in rays of light so bright that they light up the sky.

Arrogance, Amanda. I know.

I am the crying dying madman, but I am also his ray or rei of light, and with our story maybe we will find others, in our mad search for a joy that cures all.

Arrogance can be hopeful too, I guess.

There is hope in recovery for the lost. Please see clearly.

-See Clearly.

About

My name was Amanda, or I thought it was, kind of. I hid behind my mental illness my whole life until today. I have been clean and sober since the 25th of December and the only time I have been okay with this whatever that even means two-spirit? Gay?….was when I was in “the rooms” as an inactive participant or in my own head pretending to be Damien, who is me, I guess.

I was really writing to me, the whole time. I really believed my own bullshit up until now that this was all just a story and I was just writing because I love writing, but see the thing is although I love writing this wasn’t about that. I only ever write as my imaginary friend. That is why he is the strongest voice, that is why I always make sure he lives, because he’s me. Damn it. I feel like I am the last to know something everyone else knew.

I am writing out for you, in an analogy, what it felt like for me to acknowledge something higher than myself as my higher power, and the feeling it gave me through the characters in misery, which was my world. I am writing it for them as well, may the imaginary world, that is the world of my dreams be brought to you on your computer screen.

To tie this into philosophical context

She or they has OCD and is afraid I will leave if she gets better, and that’s not true. She will just be happier, like I am. I am trying to show you how you do it, so I can talk to you about happy things because if you want me to be I can be your invisible friend for ever. That is not bad. Just different and that is okay.

These guys are great, wish Peterson had lived.

Have you ever doubted your own reality?

Have you ever wondered if someone or something was driving your pain?

Have you ever wondered what it all means?

Enter

I am the split of two souls at war and in love with each other, they are dancing dragons in shades not colors, I am the hallucinations of the deranged man. I am whatever you want me to be, I am the memory of everything that ever caused feeling in the screaming corners of nothing, I am the faceless screaming nothing face of the fallen burning with hatred and love in the smokey fire chasm that is the decaying city of man. I am a walking sorted of disordered chaos. I am Damien de Soto and Ms. Rei, and the voice of misery.

Misery is a realm of earth, which is my metaphor for the hellish life of addiction which I wrote out to spare myself eternal damnation.

Ms. Re is also Rei’s name, without the I and the y, why because I removed them, as a simulator of misery experienced by the man and woman who die while using/drinking.

Misery is a virus as well, my metaphor for addiction, which causes you to repeatedly be guilty of committing the Christian deadly 7.

Ms. Re also is a weird spell of miss remember, which is supposed to illustrate the blindness addicts experience when they can’t see clearly.

Misery-written simulation brought to you here through my writing which will help you see clearly through the eyes of the addicts, the homeless, and social deviants of society as they investigate the true nature of human beings in order to facilitate their survival.

I am sorry for my unorthodox approach, it is the only way I know to show you clearly what so often goes unseen in this world, although this is a work of fiction it is based on real evil I have seen as an addict and now meditate on while in recovery.

I aim to show this to the anyone who is listening to bring about understanding of those who so often go unheard on every street corner in every desperate place populated by those unfortunate enough to have gotten a raw deal in life.

Author: Amanda, I am not using my last name, because I want to retain some level of anonymity online.

More to be revealed as we go. Enjoy the ride.

Three Book Series

See Clearly

Just in Time

(TBD)

See Clearly is available for free in the blog, in its entirety. Feel free to browse around.

I will be publishing Just in Time now as well, using the same method.