This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
I have schitzoaffective disorder, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, 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.
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.
Looking towards the light of sun, I focus on times that were such fun, unable to break my tragic gaze, existing still and still, in an awful maze. I run in mind and in body, consumed by light that glows hotly. In the light I see my past, and memories that through the day last.
I run not walk, sometimes walk not run, and I am not yet having fun, but consumed by the idea of someone, who is not here yet. I am alone in the sun, looking back at all that brought, me here to the time, in which I am caught.
I am running towards the sun, hoping to find some fun, or someone there to catch my gaze, something that will amaze and thrill me, so I can see, it is not that bad to be me.
Do you see yourself as a leader?
Walking forward at a kept pace that is the pace of all that is not erase or erased, trudging on I do alone, with hope that the right way will be shown.
Illuminated path sits behind open door, of this much, I can say I am sure. Unsure of what lays in front of me, I walk alone, and thus so silently, I wonder all the time what is in store, behind this someday presenting open door.
Is it possible to lead if I walk alone?
Am I alone or waiting for presence unknown?
Do you lead or do you follow?
I do not know, formerly I wallowed.
It has been eight months and twenty days, since I have been high, been far away, haven’t touched one drink or drug, it is out of hole I have dug, in this new place, I would rather be, sincerely, See Clearly.
Alone, alone, alone, how much I miss, having someone to share things with. I am getting better though, and think I am almost in a place where being with someone wouldn’t destroy me emotionally.
See Clearly
Breakfast in Bed
Breakfast in bed, breakfast in bed, where my mind goes is somewhere of dread, instead of focusing on pure elation, I am drawn to misery fixation, I remember you sorely, poorly, and with hate, I remember all the times that Rei made me late, I remember instead all the times she wouldn’t get up, all the things that we missed messing with stuff, I remember all the nights when I called her name, to find her missing, and me going insane.
Breakfast in bed, breakfast in bed, how I long to have you with someone, other than her, anyone instead.
EXPLANATION: ABOUT DEPRESSION
Due to the sensitive nature of this material I am offering an explanation and assurance this is just a creative metaphor post inspired by art
I am trapped in glass casing, which is
Erasing my ability to breath, and it is ill-concieved, because I am beginning to die, and no matter how loud, I cry out, I am still without air, and I really can’t bear this much longer, don’t think I can
BE STRONG
For much longer, I am losing air.
If I could just get down
Being on top a flower, which above the ground, sure did tower, was a might fete for a bee that was, oh so very small, not tall, in any way at all.
Oh, he thought, yes, it is, it is a burden, I do not kid, I have been here waiting all my life, to just get down, to move on with life, but I can’t, for here I stand, cannot come down, don’t know where I’d land, so since I can’t, see clearly, I am only sure what is in front of me, I must stay put, cannot make haste, so my life has been quite,
PAINFUL
Here I stand without a
PAUSE
I know I have broken
DOWN
Because, I am talking with you now, and telling you, who happened to pass by, my sad story, why I cry, what has happened, why I am wrought, with oh such a
PAINFUL
Thought, but now I realize, and see its true, I am no different, than anyone else.
She would make you quiver, make you shiver, she glowed
She had a magic and it showed, she was the river goddess, light dancer with candy lips, when she spoke they would drip sugar, or so it seemed, she was never mean, always green, always golden, with eyes so bright, glowing in the dark of night.
I am for you, I am found.
Starlight danced with her, it took her hand, with the power of stars her gaze was kept, their dust was shed when she slept, it flew off her eyes and collect on the clover laden ground, they grew when she was laying down.
I am for you, I am found, I am growing up from ground, in the day in the light, the sun’s pure love springs forth delight. How the sky loves you, I try to show, I am from ground, and I grow.
Love ya, baby
Commitment, commitment, such a silly concept, I commit to nothing, nobody, no one.
My sweetheart, my baby, my dear, my love for you was not there at all, so I left you where you were, vision such a blur.
Sorry, baby, at the time my mind was sauced, tossed, and in the trash, too very busy, for love to catch.
Did not know how to do anything at all, clearly so busy staring at
TALL INNER DEMONS
Thelma, my love you are so sweet, so divine, such a sight for sore eyes that can’t see clearly. I have to say I love you, dearly.
You were a stranger, that dark night, that you asked to stand with me by fire light,.
I am a blind eye, in the trash, to very busy, to kiss ***
You are a dream, too bad you were so tragically mean, now if I remember anything about you at all, it is that your inner demons, make you small.
It makes me sad, brings tear to my
BLIND EYES
I had to leave you, run away, you were so toxic, could not stay, you wanted things I did not have,
I AM NOTHING.
CAN’T COMMIT, I am a complete peice of
****
Paradise
Paradise, pair of dice, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to think of whether or not
Pair of dice, pair of dice, when I was playing, I was just a device, just a peice of your puzzle, just something nice, just some way to get what you wanted so bad with a pair of dice.
I roll twice, looking over my shoulder, you are watching me, I win, I win, I lose, I lose.
For you the roll is different.
I win, I lose. I lose, I lose.
Sometimes, in the dark of night, I wonder why I was playing.
I am light that is cast on dark night, reflecting with light that is positive and so bright, it casts away dark night, in shades of light, bright enough to keep away darkness that comes all and casts a shadow that is tall and dark, light limited and formerly stark.
Glowing bright with power to cast away, light that formerly would overcome and keep away.
Against the grass, which is carved out by break of day, is where I am, where I stay. I am not darkness, but light that fills in, a photos colors which radiate a beauty from within.
Bright and Positive
Spending my whole life looking at the ground, has given me a great deal of feeling of being grounded, which has grounded me, to the sensation of being on the ground, which has made me focus only on that.
If there is anything I have learned, it is how negative my outlook was, because I focused my entire life on the ground, thinking this to be the way of grounding myself, which it was, making me firmly rooted in the ground, and digging myself in further with feet that would not move forward, for fear of falling, which made it impossible to move forward.
Leaps and bounds
I was afraid of falling, so I made no movement forward, only looking down, and making no motion, afraid I would trip over my own two feet.
Now, I am no longer staring at my feet, beginning to move forward, and finally become a participant in my own life, by taking the steps to move on, no longer consumed by fear of falling.
I am a flower, I am from beyond, I am from time that trudges on and on
What are you passionate about?
Writing, written word, things seen and heard, flight of bird, and song often sung in a morning where birds come, and
In a space way up high, I am seen in the sky, and I fly in the light, image not erased by the night.
Go, no matter rain or sun, they come and go.
Up and down, and all around, they surround me, and sing in beautiful surround sound, tales of the earth, of love and mirth.
Nature is my passion, human nature, and the nature of action, packed with human beings, and the way things seem to be, for them and me.
Peace and Love
In the green reflects light from the sky, with sun so big, and high above all, shining down, it shines with love, of all thing below, on ground, and above, it is not angry, never gray, only brings the light of day, does not hurt nor chase away, does only stay, and bring light of day.
It never falters, and is accepting of all the trees which glow with light of day, that chases away any worry, any care, and in the air and in the day, everything is simply okay.
Do you laugh at chaos?
Yes, I laugh with dissing order.
I rock at climbing and climb rocks,
In order to get up past the sight line of the trees.
My life is the bees knees, and I do hope to please my needs for elevating distance from the ground, and to achieve the act of staring down, and listening to the sound of the rocks that rock my world, by hitting rocks at the bottom of a ravine that is mean and gleans nothing from anything I am saying because it is meanly indifferent to anything I am…
I lost my train of thought, so I thought of something else and this is it.
Staring Down
I am act of staring down, meditation on looking at the ground, fixation with stone and with stand, focusing not on act of stand, waters dark and deep and murky, actions shirky, and jerky.
Looking down, I stare at black and white, focused on an internal fight, I am looking at lack of light, not looking up, but stare down, I am in a war, with un-sound ground. I am grinding at daily grind, in a constant fight with borrowing from the divine.
This only exists in my mind, I do not realize that time is mine. I mind it because I don’t look up, forever drinking from others cup.
I am fixed on things that are fixed, forever not wanting to pick my eyes from the ground, turn my face to world of sound mind and body.
This photo is not me, but is a girl, who exists not like this but in world of bliss, world of kissed by kindness, given real body, instead of one that cries for other form, living in body forlorn and torn, by being the other, wishing for anything but this, anything but this, anything but death’s kiss.
Tragedy, my dear was the horses name, and its tale, is a tragic refrain, a tale of things to refrain from, and to do, when something like this happens, to anyone, anyone at all, not just a horse in a tale, that is a tall tale.
Glowing With Tragedy
She glowed with radiant light, woman imbued with the power of night, she was a servant of a horse, that would run through the day in light so bright.
It was a galloper, but of course, it is quite obviously, quite the horse, she would burn an ember, would burn a torch, and hunt at night for her horse, it would travel far and travel wide, in the darkness it would hide, but by the end of night it would be by her side, after she traveled a great expanse, she did not even have the chance, to sleep because she walked all night, engaged in a never ending fight.
What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?
I love you, but I am tired, of my body, and my soul is on fire, so instead of dying in an ocean of sadness, trying to achieve the sensation of gladness, so I am on prescription medication, that makes it possible to achieve meditation.
She came from a land with no air, prone to make those around her yell and make creatures stare, she was from a place beneath the water, she had a father, was a daughter, in the water, she did live, where her life she had to give, being a mermaid, serving father, deep in dark, consuming water, she lived in darkness, lived underwater, her hair flowing around her earth like body, she sometimes cried, her tears flowing hotly.
Was a mermaid, that lived in sea, in the water, she was sentenced to be, she could not leave, could not explore, was locked in sadness, in life a bore, a chore, and service to those around, she was very used to the sound of siren call, she heard them scream, heard them sing, was a haver of bent wings, and mermaid lack of feet, could not walk, was of a life, beneath air, men would come and men would stare.
I have made it, I have made it, almost anyway, to half a year clean and sober.
Is this why you are making a bunch of bad jokes about feet?
Yes, this is the reason for all the feet jokes.
Extending An I Love Branch
I love you so much, I bend over, and spread my bark thin, so much, it bends from within, it is making my bark worse than my bite, it hurts in the day and the night, I spreading myself thin as we speak, and worry something will come from beneath, something from deep underneath,
That spreads in vain and in vein, and it is making me quite insane, in sane, meaning in fact lost my mind, but also unable to climb out of a slow setting in sanity, that makes me unable to stop
Bending over backwards, extending an olive branch, and spreading myself thin, which is making my bark way worse than my bite, and biting at my knees all night.
Out On A Limb
Out on a limb, standing my ground, turning blue, I am without any idea of what no to do, just know that I am waiting to know, and turning blue with waiting just so, I have no legs to stand on just limbs, and roots that are growing quite thing, you might say that my hair on my body stands up, or on edge if you are prone to look up, you may assure me that thing in fact are fine, but
I am worried that all is in vain and that is surely rooted in my brain, and try as I may or I might, it is very surely a fight to keep my limbs from breaking in strain, or keep blood pumping the pained veins.
I am without root for you, baby, out on a limb, falling over, I am sorry. I believe I am about to split in half.
Wheating For You
I am with heat for you, a heat that burns in my hand, it is all I can stand to hold on, but I do, and I do, all day long, no matter come rain or come wind, it burns hand, it burns skin, it burns, it hurts, I swear it to you, and hold on is all I can do, I am not very strong, I do it by humming a psalm.
I am waiting for you.
I’m waiting holding a flame that burns so deep, it is all that I can do, to hold onto a candle so bright, it burns through day and through night, no matter how hot, not matter how long, the fire burns hot and burns strong,
Continuing through day and through night, a candle light firey and overpowering burns strong and burns fast, and no matter what is cast, it does not let anything past.
It burns and it never stops, it is untouched by even the tops of the clouds and rain drops.
Joy of Sunshine
If humans had taglines, what would yours be?
Misery has become joy, and attitude of misery, I used to employ, has now changed, which is strange, because I used to be strange, and now has become re-arranged, and changed.
I used to see only pain, and to talk only to disdain, but now my attitudes are changed, and are not strange but true, and I try to find joy in all I do, and talk to you, not be alone and talk to me.
I try to find joy and peace and to be free, from the sadness of relating only to me.
Petaling Forward
Perception, perception, perception
It is all about perception.
It is just my perception that dictates my reality.
That, while very clear to me, is very hard to remember.
Swimmingly, swimmingly, swimming, swim, swimmingly, my reality is going swimmingly
Mixed up sometimes by chemical imbalance, but most of the time nervously swimming back and forth and overall feeling good enough and better to swim still, swimmingly.
I am a swimmer in the pool of life, swimming laps around the earth, back in forth, not sure sometimes if it is worth it, but existing sometimes in mirth, swimming, swimmer, existing swimming, swimmingly.
Kindness and Serenity
Thank you to all of you that replied to my tongue tied, prayers and desperate crying out to the universe for some peace. I have been through a lot in my life, that is all detailed in the archives of this site. I am sorry to anyone who worried about me, or was disturbed by my very public request for help.
I have taken a lot of solace in remembering the serenity prayer.
Love and kind wishes to all of you,
Damien
I followed her kind me, bound by, I’m blind.
She was so spellbinding, woman with long hair, she told me she wanted, wanted me there.
I followed her to the ocean, she went into the mist, she touched me softly, gave me a kiss, she walked slowly, walked into the mist, began dissappearing, into darkness.
I walked after her slowly, hoping to catch up, I had been drinking, still holding my cup, I wanted to catch her, was looking up, and I missed her dissappearing, was moving through
MIST, MIST, MIST.
In ignorance, of what bliss even meant, she dissappeared.
Heavenly mermaid, I caught you with feet, in a moment, I dreamed my life could be replete, with joy, but you walked away on your feet, and now I must admit defeat, couldn’t catch up, was too consumed with holding a cup of alcohol, alcohol, alcohol.
Paint me
Paint me a picture, of life, and of love, paint me a picture of my turtle dove.
I would do anything for you, my darling, my sweety, my dear.
I would do anything for you too, that is quite clear.
I do too.
Going to a meeting helped me.
It helped me too. I was really lonely for some reason, well not some reason, I need to make new clean and sober friends and the meetings are helping with that.
Yeah me too, and wow, you usually talk less than me.
Yeah, I feel exactly the same way as you do, and I wanted you to know that. You are not alone in the world, we have a very rare gift, the ability to feel like two people who have each other.
I still wish I wasn’t actually alone, like I wish we had another physical person.
I do too, but I am not there yet. Are you?
No, but some day I think I will be.
Glowing Negativity
I am glowing with negativity, of time spent alone, and not around anything distracts from the pounding idea of down, down, down,
Spiraling ever closer to the idea of underground, depression and the idea of sinking low, away from those who are around, forever looking at the ground, and reflecting at the idea of down, down, down.
Depression, and aggression at those around, annoyed by sound of human voice, reflection on life of feeling like I have no choice.
I am annoyed, annoying, annoyer, reflecting on things that annoy me.
If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?
Amanda to Damien
Transplant, transplant, I am a potted plant, my pot is not right, so like gardener with lack of sight, I am able to change my site.
I am a wrongly potted plant, potted in a plant that is the wrong, everything really, that is why I live in
Here, I am in a body riddled with fear, shame, guilt, not because of body but because I am an
ADDICT, and have lived life of pain, addicted to trying to forget my name, and for some way to pass the blame, of everything I did, to forget the wrong soul casing in which I live.
I am now on a mission to give everything a second try, to live a different kind of life.
I am always wrongI am always wrong.
I am wrong, I am wrong, I am wrong.
I could say it all day long, and be right.
I would rather be wrong.
I, I, I,
Me, Me, Me
If one thing I can see, it’s my own NARCISSISM.
Never said I am always right, usually wrong, so like a bad song, I play all day long, making myself miserable, at least I love my own company.
I have no pride, which is good, because if I am successful at anything this site does, it shows me every day, that I lack clarity, which is why I thought I could do anything like force myself to see clearly.
I make myself laugh all the time, with having to remove my own head from my ***.
That’s all just admission of being mentally ****ed.
I am not always rightFrequently, I am wrong, So, like a bad song, I have to admit, That sometimes, I just have to switch channels.
I am realizing I am not always right.
I simply ignite at times when I have a bad night.
I am learning to delight,
In times of bad day, that this has the ability to chase
My troubles away.
I, I, I, me, me, me
Sometimes, myself makes it hard to see clearly.
It does not help, it makes me perspire, to feel like my life is constantly on fire.
Questing to get, away from a life consumed by dark hole, an addict walks away from burning, fiery sole of shoe, and admits the only thing to do,
Is simply know I can be wrong, and so
Like a bad song,
I simply change the channel.
The View
The Ocean, the ocean, anywhere with view of you, that is all I want, a place by you. Having traveled north, south, west and east, I could finally be at peace if I were by you.
I think it has something to do with this, it is probably because now I am far enough away from the whole thing that I am forced to learn how to do the whole “life on life’s terms” thing, and I ****ing suck at that.
You are trying, but we, sorry caught myself doing it, we have to learn to be kinder to ourselves, and we are both getting there.
Both? Are we two people?
No, I mean both sides are learning to talk to each other, and stop biting my head off.
Okay, point taken.
I am a grocery cart
I am not stolen, not privately owned, I am from a store, don’t have my own.
****y. That is how it is going.
I am glossy cart, I am a tiny toy, made from the heart.
Are you worried or just upset?
I’m worried, so I am having a hissy fit online, and I don’t care what you have to s..
Say about it? I am telling you that you are being a child having a fit online.
Well… yeah.
Just as long as you know what you are doing, then yeah, I am okay with you, yelling about it online.
I am yelling… and yeah, I guess airing my grievances in the only way I know how.
That sounds constructive.
You’re mean.
No, I really mean it, that does sound constructive.
Thank you, I am not used to you being nice to me.
Roses
Ask me once, ask me twice, ask me fifteen times, ask me again, make me defend, make me remember, over and over and over and over.
I am a rose which rises to every occasion presented.
I am red roses, on the grave of a dead horse, or of course, I am of course, more than a dead horse, I am the strife in a life of
Over and over again
Make me defend choices I made then and not again.
Color me red, color green, color me the color of horses beaten.
I started writing here, not now, but at the beginning convinced I missed you, but I really missed me, who I was before you, when I was allowed to simply be, when I wasn’t so worried, when I wasn’t afraid, when I was allowed to be myself, not forced to go away. I used to be different, had to be around you.
Now I am alone, and realizing, I do not need you.
I am allowed to be myself, and that is because I am alone, and as much as that bothers me, I do not miss the phone, do not miss the insults, do not miss the lies, the accusations, the yelling or feeling despised.
Star Dust Feet
Pathway through stardust, through constellations reflected in blue light on the beach, tracing my steps through strange memories, of jelly fish kisses, traced in steps back, through a beach made of madness, of constant panic attack.
On the sands we did travel, but in the stars I see it now, on the beach in my memory, in the clouds you are now, the dark clouds of resentment, I have placed your name, where it need be, less I forget my own name, placed with shame, blame, and guilt, and heroin addiction.
Your name is up there, so I can stay on the ground, and not be pulled back to a place I am not now. We did have good times, but I want to forget, so I do not become stuck in a place of self neglect.
What fears have you overcome and how?
The spot is marked, the spot I left with a big non-hexing EX, just a mark, a memory, now not so very clear to me, filled with rage, and filled with fear, although he wishes just for tears.
I have gone, I have left the state, because my fear of you was way to great, so now I am, so far away, and that is where I plan to stay.
We were once best friends, so long ago, we camped in rain, we camped in snow, you used to be the best person I know, now I am afraid, I can’t say so.
You grew to be the meanest one, who wished for nothing, except that I can’t have fun, punishment is what you wanted, for what I do not know, I am sorry to say, after this year I am just glad to be
A WAY away, a ways a way away
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
The cat named ‘The Guy’ some may say he is the cat version of a spy. He found my house one day walking by, we were awoken, to a strange cat cry.
Now he sleeps above my head, he is home every night before I go to bed. He used to eat nothing, now we feed him instead. He will eat anything, even bread, he eats bees too, as long as they are dead.
I eat flowers
He plays in flowers, and makes a commotion, he is know to come back with great devotion, he waits in the house, when we visit the ocean. No matter where I go, when I come back, he has always got my back.
Do you like Little Shops of Horror???
Do you like Little Shops of Horrors? I mean, do you like your office?
I have been placed on your desk, and I can talk, but unlike you, I can’t walk. Some selfish human cut my legs, or what would be thought to be them anyway. I am here to tell you, it is your new mission to serve, my water addiction. I am addicted, because my roots are dead, and right now my petals are red. What can happen, I know well, I could go from desk to garbage pale.
So my buddy, my friend, my dear, let me make something quite clear, it is your job, your mission, your everpresent task, to make sure my life will last, feed me, and I will be quiet. If you don’t I will surely riot. I need water to stay bright in color, but I also want it, just like your brother, you know the one, the alcoholic, I can be quite mean, quite vitriolic.
I will make your life a living Hell, if my needs are not met well, you will hear me scream all day, if you try to put me away.
Dale, the dog, who will chase frogs
Tales of Dale the dog, who saw a whale,
I am a whale, this is not my story.
I am illustration of a story, that is more about a dog’s glory.
Were told to all who traveled a path, they made them talk and made them laugh, he would jump at shoe, and runner’s calves, or the muscle of leg, where he had pegged it crucial to stay when on his walk.
In that spot, he could hear them talk, while whales he was prone to try and stalk, from far away they seemed quite small, he thought he towered, thought he was tall, his owner, had to make sure he did not fall, when they went walking on a cliff above, he would bark at whales at passing doves, he barked with joy, not wanting to bite, simply to chase, whale or kite, up in the sky, it danced, and put up a fight, Dale barked through the day and through the night.
His owner thought it to be quite funny, he could give anyone a run for their money.
How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
I use this website for a very unique purpose, to talk to myself constructively, good at everything that is destructive, my perspective is skewed to be on the path of rejection, instead of posotive direction, I am prone to do this negatively, but unable to see this clealry, it lays beyond my detection.
Hello sunshine, let’s do this right, I have been talking to you like her every night, I am very sorry not good at physical pain, and have been having fights through you with disdain.
I know you have, and I am not her, always forget you also talk to them, the other voices are a problem, I mean they talk to me too, without you I don’t know what I would do. I really miss talking just to you.
I think this is because we are getting better, baby. It might also be that we are ****ing crazy, but I don’t think so, the medication seems to working…..
I Love ya, baby
I must confess dear, I love you so sweetly, so fully, and so completely, once you meet me, you will know that it is true, that I only need you and you only need me too.
I am not a person I am resentment.
Love you so dearly, so clearly, so much, I am in love with everything you touch, you are my whole heart, that is a lie, I am terribly sick of being your SLAVE.
You are no longer what I crave, you are no longer what I want, I am done with the act of TAUNT.
Tell me you love me, tell me I am great, tell me that there is no way we can’t relate, tell me I am the most beautiful, tell me you can’t stand, any day, any moment, without my hand, tell me you need me, I am your only desire, tell me I am the one, and for me you are on
Fire, fire, fire, my soul on fire, when it burns, so hot, I perspire, I am not in love, just addict in pain, oh, so sick of life down
DRAIN
DRAIN
Pore it down, so much better for alcohol to be on the ground, then in me, so I remain free, so much better than being
INTOXICATED
AND CHAINED
TO POOR ADDICTED ADDICT BRAIN
Tell me you want me, that you need me to, tell me I come first in everything you do, that I am supreme, your queen, your addiction, I am your love, that this is not fiction, that I am your honey, your sweet turtle dove, that you want me only, need only my love.
NO NO NO
I will not do, anything you say, no longer a slave to addiction, that is now fiction.
We grow out, we grow up, we do not grow down, we look up never down, we don’t hear sound, we hear waves, we feel waves, we grow in stages, in the night, mostly.
We are us, we are not them, we are potted, we live with friends, we are rooted, we are flowers that flower, our roots grow up, and begin to tower, into light, we grow by day, we grow up, we grow away, from the dark, we love the light, we do not fear the dark of night.
In the day, and in the dark, our colors bright, even when light is stark, we have colorful flowers, that show our health, we live in pot that could be on shelf, but is instead dangling in the light, we grow in public we do not fight, we only grow, we stay outside, we are flowers, we do not hide.
Love That Radiates in Waves of Purple Green
A tree named Serenity, had always had that name, knowing not how, or what it meant, but having it all the same.
It grew up, tall, towards the sky, knowing not why, but that to grow meant to grow up high to the sky.
It’s roots connected to ground, not knowing about sound, but knowing that it was of sound structure, and knew it well, though not being able to tell, anyone at all, not having a mouth or knowing about sound, just knowing that a sound foundation belonged to it, and that the foundation could feel the radiant waves of something that it knew to feel like vibration.
Its trees felt the touch of light, not knowing the difference between light and dark, except that one felt like it danced with kindness on it, and caused upward motion, which is liked, deeply, so deeply, it felt like its roots liked it so much, they would dance further toward the sky.
A Fish Named, Shirley, Surely
A fish named Shirley hit under bushes bright, with colors swirly, with were coral, as you quarreled with her sense of sureness, Shirley, was perpetually worried.
Her name a contradiction, her existence, a pure fiction, she believed herself to be an illusion of a narrator addicted to pain and suffering, who had painted her existence into that world where misery loves its own company.
Her narrators hands write this, before you read of it, my dear reader, and they have come to know that they create the world that poor Shirley, surely lives in.
If I can tell you anything about the life of this little fish, in a deep sea, that I am not in, but create for her, like someone creates mine for me, in my belief system anyway…
I can tell you one thing about Shirley that I am quite sure of, it is that her radiance and light was gifted to her, to guide her through the darkest of waters, which is what it did, most of the time, TBC.
Trying at serenity
The road less traveled, by me, has always been the path of peace, and serenity, bull-headed, I have tragically trudged through the sludge of pain, on a path to, resentment, which has led me to over and over justify getting drunk again.
I am going to put my foot on a different road, consciously right now.
I have realized with my real eyes, not the blinders I put on to cause my own pain, that I am missing joy, by my own foolish choice to meditate on pain, thus the name of the site. Misery is me, loving my own company, existing in a hell of my own making, with myself as my own misery machine, also the name for my site. I am going to try and redirect my pathway, publically and see if it makes me happier.
Lack of Clarity
I just made myself laugh for five seconds, that is most of the reason for this post.
I don’t know why we think the world is going to fall apart continuously.
I think it is because it was falling apart for so long.
Good point, but it isn’t anymore right?
It feels like it is still, so is it or is it not?
It isn’t, it just feels like it. Did you ever think it was slightly strange to worry about punctuation while doing this to yourself?
No.
My night was horrific
That is why I have hardly been online today. I went to the hospital yesterday for deblitating anxiety, that is still extremely bad right now. It kind of feels like a continuous panic attack, which for someone who has not experienced that, for me, it feels like I am on a roller coaster about to go down a huge incline and I just never go down.
It is really annoying, and has made it so I feel like I am going to flip out all day. I think part of it is because of what happened yesterday, and just a build up of not being able to be honest my whole life about the whole thing, and then just latent PTSD, and worry about having to end up back in the hospital for anything relating to the hydrocepalus or nerve pain associated with my hands.
The short story of all that, is I constantly feel like my life is about to fall apart, which feels like I am standing in a house and the ground is about to fall out from under me. I think a lot of that is from trauma, and being better at being traumatic situations than dealing with the peace of life now.
I finally have gotten up the emotional ability to type this on here. I realize that through the beauty of the community on the internet, there are some people who may worry about me if I completely disappear, or that might all be something I think because of my inflated ego… meh.
There it is regardless….
I hope if nothing else, that this may be interesting backstory to the content of this site, and my whining and moaning about what may seem like nothing. I have a lot of issues, and am working them out in publiv on here, to increase awareness, and because I found support on this blog community.
Thank you to all those who have helped me on here. It means the world.
Damien/Amanda
I am fear, I am regret, I am worry, I am stained with past remorse, I am forward course through wonder, that can send you under. I am stained with wondering what could have happened if, I am an ocean of if.
I am what now, without going down.
Waters are around me, because I am in an ocean, or in the air, it matters not where I am, just that I am, where is irrelevant, I am in waters or air, surrounded by being, the act of being swimming in air or waters, in forward motion, keeping my head above, trying to not drown in worry, trying to not be the act of looking down into all-consuming depression, over what if I had done something else, I am the what now of looking forward, and not being consumed by the idea of you are doomed.
The idea of regret, the idea of fret, is a pattern, that encircles us that good at drain rotation, the whirlpool sensation, that can be so comforting, I am trying to swim out, but sometimes remain in the circle of look down.
Kiss me, baby.
Kiss me with sun, kiss me with act of spinning, spinning, un-spun, re-wrung.
Who were you then?
Who are you now?
I am swirling chaos, I am up and down.
Timeless, Time Less, Less Time, Time Less
Do you see time?
Does it see you?
It is present in all things you do.
I am a negative, I am an item.
I am time, the world re-arranged.
I am strange.
I am earth shattering negative of a world that glows in the dark, the beauty of night in light that is stark. The call of night bird, or hooting of owl, the howl of a coyote, or looking far south, I am looking away from star, and light of the moon, I am the coming of deep and troubling monsoon. I am the coming of winter, felt always and never.
I am the act of swimming while remembering December. I am the act of continuing in time that moves on, I am a song, I am droning on and on.
Bite me
Hello, you strange, ***hole.
I think they can still tell what the word is, Amanda.
I know they can still tell what the word is, that is kind of the point, all the word none of the guilt.
Isn’t that cheating?
Yes, not the point.
That is the entire point.
I think you might be right.
Emotional maturity is not usually my thing, this is kind of cool for a change. Hahahah!
Good job ruining it.
In them I see you, inherent in everything they do, being so seperate from me, so much closer to divinity, so much higher than I could ever be, please bring me closer to you, I have been silent, because I began to use my hands to serve myself, selfish and self-seeking, please take them back, to serve you.
I am looking at the light, and seeing a picture painted before me, with I highlight, painted places I see you in it, I see you, not them, but you in starlight, thank you for reminding me who you are, being, that paints the night sky with luminance, thank you for being there, for those with downcast eyes.
I sing
Swans mate for life, am I told this is true.
So I think of a my life, and how I was with you.
I am not sure, if this is true for us, too.
I put me in a box for so long, so I would not be myself.
I put me in a box with needle, spoon, and bottle on shelf, now I represent me with a swan, because maybe I can be something else, no longer just an addict with love affair with destruction and bottles on shelf.
I am not sure if I was supposed to be with you.
Now I am alone, and I feel sometimes it is for life, because I have PTSD and our break-up cut me, like a knife, but there is a part of me that wonders if it is true, that like a swan, I was destined only for you, and now that we are apart, I should be alone, destined only for nothing, just the idea of alone.
I am not sure, if any of that is true, only sure I no longer like you, you ripped out my heart and made me realize I no longer like men.
Maybe there is another swan, and I was never supposed to be with you to begin with, maybe there is another swan for you, as well.
At this point, I hope that is true, two different swans for both of us, I am sorry Rei, I am sorry I hurt you in any way I hurt you, I am sorry, and I hope you find your swan, I am sorry I hurt your feelings.
What personal belongings do you hold most dear?
Everything I had originally is gone, long gone, so I hold nothing dear, except my loved ones, which are not belongings.
Monopoly, monopoly, my life is like monopoly, go to jail, go to jail, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, go directly to jail.
I am green with envy, honey.
I threw it all away, when I went away, but before all that I lived in places where I lost it all, over and over and over, due to living in cheap apartments, that had cheap landlords, that did cheap things, that caused me to have to leave, without my belongings.
I mean to say, I have nothing I started with, or
Do not pass go.
Do not collect 200 dollars.
Monopoly, monopoly, my life is like monopoly.
Hello, baby
She came at sunrise, she came with light’s dance, she came at sunrise, and stole my friends pants, they were laid out, on her bed, we did not know, she came at sunrise, in her house we did not know,
It belonged to her. She was kind and forgiving, forgave our unexpected visit, when she came we thought,
“Well, this is it,”
She told us it was okay, that we broke into her house, when all I was thinking, was
Well, this sure went south…
She made us breakfast, and touched my face, it was covered with dust and dirt, which a bath could erase.
She was on a vacation, an act I don’t know, she gave us shelter, from the rain and the cold.
Though I am small, on closer look, I am off the hook, I have everything I need, from the air to breathe, a planted seed, which brings forth my life, and the nutrients in the ground, brought by beings of sound mind.
I am tiny
I am a plant, and used to live in a garden, with my friends, I was placed one day, when they ripped me out, in a bulb, without any roots, a bulb, that was not one that grows, but instead of those for lamps.
I do not know, how or why, just fear that one day I may die, there is not rain or sun in here, so I know one thing, quite clear, I depend on those around, those in the realm that uses sound.
They cannot hear me because I can’t scream, so I hope, and sometimes dream in waves, I hope they get me the water and light I crave.
I then discover it comes right through, and that they know what they do, the soil here, has nutrients, too.
The bridge over Hell, is frequented by many who live to tell, they come often, and stare down, and do not smile, and do not frown, the simply stare at the ground, and make sure always to keep eyes to ground, never looking up nor to the side, but deep inside their own souls, because inside burn holes, which hurt and ache, and are the reason they stare down, and do not smile, and not frown, but only meditate on death, and think about the lives they left, and it is Hell that preformed the theft.
I am frequented by all those lost, who ignore the idea of cost, for the sensation of toss, of hurling, and of whirling down, and love the sensation of pound and down.
I am sought by those who pretend and defend the act of loss of soul and act of bend and defend.
Look not at me, but at yourself, I am just defense of myself.
I am your brain on… resentment, just like drugs, but not very ****ing fun, but, oh so entertaining aren’t I?
No, you are just a lunatic talking to yourself.
You are so very negative.
You are the one talking to yourself, ***hole.
I love having your voice in my head.
It is my head.
No, it is our head.
No, it is Amanda’s and my head. You are a visitor, who they say is unwelcome, you just come to talk to me, because we are such good friends, and since we don’t want drugs anymore, you are no longer useful resentment.
Ouch.
I am getting good at this, baby. You can leave now.
I brought you a flower, it is nothing.
It is picked from the middle of nowhere, or from nothing.
I mean I can’t remember who you are and was walking, and you are looking at me like you know me, and began talking, and I am holding this, so it must be for you right, and I am sorry, because I no longer have any idea who you are, and this will likely only last a couple minutes, something must have happened that bothered me, and I blanked it out, and now I don’t remember, so here is a flower.
She must have hurt your feelings, this is exactly what happens when people make you cry.
I know this, but I don’t remember why, so it is okay for now. I am just going to forget about it for now.
You should find out why.
I made this sarcastically for you, and for whoever likes sarcasm.
I find it so fascinating, and positively delightful, to rip out your color and tell my story, it is such a relief for you to be so unreal, you and all that you are, that makes it so hard to feel. I am so happy, so at peace with you, just an image of attack, and all that you are one, who likes to take back, and to shove forward, and put on me everything, as long as it is negative.
I am the bad guy in every story you told, I am the villian in all tales young and old, color me that way, make me large, and you small, color me clearly, till I am not there at all.
Hot air balloon that flies over HELL, below are those who do not even notice, beyond anything that spells their pain and suffering, they cannot see, they are slaves to their sweet misery, they live in resentment, and cannot look up, this is the state in which they are stuck.
In the muck and the mire, they worship fire, which belongs so sweetly, to their own pain, their lack of restraint, so when something flies over, that can save them from themselves, they are not watchful, looking only
AHEAD AND
DOWN
DOWN
DOWN
SYMMETRICAL
My soul burns for you baby, you make me so ****ing happy.
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
Color me kind, color me quick, bring back my colors, make my colors stick.
Meditate on kindness, not on the dark, brick back the sunshine,
Do not rip out your own heart.
Speak kindly of gladness, bring out bright ways, learn from my sadness, and my wayward way.
Color me kindColor me quickBring back my colorsMake my colorsStickMeditateOn kindnessNot on the darkBring back the sunshineDon’t rip out Your own heartSpeak only of gladnessAnd of bright daysDon’t chase out gladnessSpeak of bright ways.
I strive for attention, because I am arrogant, and self involved, I am not trying to do this, it is not my resolved mission, I am just used to being ignored, so I do this because I am alone, and to be self assured, if there is nothing else from me to be learned, please take my sadness, and so in life turn, away from what I did, because for you I want, everything I do not have.
I want for you everything I do not have, all that makes you glad, instead of insane, and so very sad, and mad.
I have been silent all day, because I don’t know what to say, how about you.
So sorry, that is just where I dwell, sometimes, not all the time, really, I am fine, just thinking about you sometimes, not all the time.
You are on my
BRAIN BRAIN BRAIN
In meditative state I reflect on the rain, and think of drowing, a duck with my head up, not breathing, just sucking in the water, and choking on it.
Burn me sweetie, make it hot, burn it so it cures my soul rot. Make it seering, make it jarring, make it burning, make it scarring.
She wore my coat, and I left it with her, because she smelled like lavender, and I wanted to forget her.
You reminded me of the rays of the sun, and that reminded me of someone I would rather
FORGET
Let me go. Let me go. Let me go.
I am so sorry, wedded to disdain, been with her such a long time, grown so used to being bound to decline, it is always on my mind.
She talks so sweetly sometimes, really, voice sounding so simular, to my ex Rei Clearly,
She tells me she loves me, and sometimes I believe the lie, it is so hard, she is a good spy, has such a good hand, good at act of torture, she is a word sorcerer.
Her face was kissed by the light, bathed in sun, so bright
She was kissed by sun, and tattooed by shade, her skin bathed in light, and graced by its going away, she was covered with mist in times of rain, never feeling human pain.
I danced with her once, under the moon, her face made me cry, her love a monsoon, the deepness of her eyes, feeling like madness, bringing out my inner sadness, like caverns to the soul, her eyes were so deep, staring into your face, baby, made me weep.
I loved her for a minute, a second, but then, I was thrown back to the shore, by the wave of defense.
I was at the end of my rope, so sad that I would choke on air, staring at the ground, fixating on the act of down.
Who are you?
How do you find peace?
What brings to the land of beneath?
He had no name, he had no place, he was like me, his life a race, a quest for food, for place to be, he now lives in a house with me.
Diane took him in, and now he lives, on a bed with Diane and her kids.
I loved you baby
You were a dream, you were beyond what you seemed to be, I am a nightmare.
I am not anything I seemed, a crying, screaming nightmare, a hellfire vacation, where the only situation that was in any way relaxing was fixation with elation, go away and let me die alone, I am not the one you want to talk to on the phone, I am forever in pain and forever a drain.
You were not like, I painted you like me.
You were so above, my sorry diss ease.
I could not have you, because you knew I was a liar, addiction to meditating on a funeral pyre.
Candy was dandy, and liquor makes me sick, though I am sick to begin, with anyone I am with, I am not able to love, when meditating on cry, she was so sad, because thoughts of her make me sigh, she asked me to quit, but I cannot lie, she was not enough, so I decided to lie, and instead to do things behind her back, meditating on death and on my soul’s lack.
The chase is on, I am running in front, running in front of cars and running in the light of day, I am addicted to being chased by death, I am running right and left, I am playing with the idea of time theft. They are plunging towards me as I get high on the idea of roll the die.
Roll the dice, baby, color by number,
I am running towards the idea of death, I am chasing after the idea of theft of life, I am chasing the idea of dying, I am leaving the idea of trying.
Nihilism, nihilism, nihilism, I love you so,
Oh, nihilism, I will never let you go.
I am the act of rolling under, roll the die, baby, I am the act of die, die, die.
I am chaos incarnate..
Do you chase death?
In the blink of an eye, I make the woman in the passenger seat cry, she is looking at the driver’s seat cry, what are they doing…. I have no idea why?????
I am the act of dog in a human being.
How do you feel about cold weather?
Give me to those who mourn the dead, I am blood red.
I reach for the sky, and die in too much sun, I am a gift.
I am flowers of joy, dying for you, we live in the summer and die when the cold consumes, it eats my silk skin, and makes it dies, we do not breath, and reach for the sky, we do not have eyes, and we cannot cry.
We ask May for rain from the sky, we do not drown in water that falls in lack of eyes, we are red like blood and we are alive, we do not have hands, but can touch the sun’s eye.
You can pull us out of the ground to give lies to your sister while she cries.
Surrounded on both sides, by the all consumingness of you, I look out into nothing, and see only lack, my soul in perpetual attack, under the spell of don’t look back, and look down and vomit with sound of
ACK. Cough. Cough. I am human eating from chaos’ trough, I eat drugs and don’t come down, I star out into the lurking nothing, reflecting back on pain that I stuff into
The gaping hole, that I have inside my soul, it rips and tears and eats the idea of me whole. I am reality bought and sold, I am bell of death ringing, I am a toll,
Unpaid, unpaid, unpaid.
I am gate to HELL,
You are the idea of HELL
Idea of being UNWELL
OF PAIN THAT IS SWELL
AND SWELLING AROUND MY SOUL
OF DEATH CONSUMED BY UNPAID TOLL
Laid, laid, laid, and
Opening, opening, opening, and staying
Extended into the opening, opening,
Blue, and black nothing, I am the idea of you stuffing stuffing, into the the whole hole of your soul, the teddy bear full of NOTHING.
Have you ever broken a bone?
My wrist, my wrist, my wrist, and this….
I had three of my finger tips amputated due to heroin addiction, annd injection site infection.
I am bone loss
I am the disintegration of neglected, injected, flesh.
I am an amputation due to heroin addiction.
I am forgetting you are a being with flesh.
I am the act of ingest, things that make flesh decay, I am not heroic, and let my flesh pass away.
Make me small
Make me not there at all
I am fear of the admission of feelings
That I won’t admit to
Feelings I don’t have at all.
I am the mental breakdown of the eyes of the street, eyes that do not sleep, that see what happens when people shut there eyes, that have waited 36 years to cry about things no one ever sees, things people like to ignore, eyes that find it a chore, to live in the unsure.
I am what happens when people ignore self, and turn to others methods of dealing with life, meth-od-s of dealing with life that are keys to doors of strife, and of pain, of staining real-i-t-y with disdain, with lack of restrain, with put brain on
Hold me, please, I am you brought
KNEES, bend down please, we want you on the
GROUND, GROUNDED to a body, which is not even mine, the one I was given by the universe, but is not me, not me, clearly, so clearly not me.
I am the realization
You were everything to me, baby.
Real in me, real eyes, seeing as a real I, that despise is not wise.
Real I, meaning real me, who is who I am, which is not who I was before, who is the fusion of two, two beings seperate and different, which is the fusion of two seperate and equal people, who are chased by the same things, for me resentment and for her the very real person who has a different name than on this site
Rei Clearly, clearly a name given as a place holder, a space holder for the idea of transition, out of a place of superstition to a place of real i zation, or real I sensation through me, with name see clearly, because it should have been so clear to me, that I am me.
I balance it, by I am working on it **** it. I am working on something, though I don’t quite know what it is yet, because most of my life I have been a career drug addict and alcoholic, whose job was surviving homelessness and trying to hold onto things like apartments and jobs to not be homeless again, how did I balance that? Poorly, that is why I am clean and sober now, and because I got tired of doing bad things.
I am trying right now to re-vamp my life so I am no longer a social vampire, but instead do something good that benefits mankind. I want to use writing and art to help people understand the people whose lifes are like mine, and help those like me do something fulfilling, what does that mean? I don’t quite know yet, I think sharing my experience on here is part of it though, and letting others know there is hope for them, because if I can do it, they can too.
My hope is that my strength to keep trying will help those like me recover as well, and that maybe they will experience joy, and that I will too.
I am not going to lie, being close to half a year not touching drugs or alcohol is amazing to me, and makes me feel like this.
Having a cowMirror, mirror, on the wall
Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is big, and makes me small? I speak of course to alcohol, and drugs that make me think I am tall, while I am really not myself at all, just a small, shrinking liar, with a soul that is on fire.
One hundred eighty two days in half a year, so in a month in five days I have been clean and sober for half a year, and managed to switch to nicotine vaping, instead of smoking a pack and a half of cigarettes a day. I also no longer gamble or panhandle, and have been going to meetings, and have been helping my family instead of making them worry. This is the first year in my entire life, I have followed through on any new years resolution.
If nothing else today, mental high five for that one.
Damien & Amanda
Message in a bottle
Damien,
I am reading something that made me think of you, and how you talk to yourself, and how we talk to each other, even though it is mostly joking, you are always being mean to yourself, and saying things before other people get a chance to say them. The things you say about yourself even if they are sarcastic are usually mean, please stop doing it.
Amanda
Amanda,
It is force of habit, and the voice of the other person that lives in our head.
Damien
Damien,
I know it’s force of habit, but please try to stop doing it. I am going to try to stop doing it to. I like you, and you like me, leave it at that for now.
Amanda
Amanda,
I think we should try writing positive things to each other, maybe I can do it that way. It is hard for me to say anything positive about me.
Damien
Anti-psychotics
I am a polaroid.
I am really just annoyed.
No, take that back, I am overjoyed, elated really, because that is how I am supposed to be isn’t it?
I am supposed to have an attitude of gratitude right????!
I prefer honesty right now, and right now I feel like I got screwed by the universe, wrong body, that has emotional issues, hydrocephalus, hormone issues, arthritis, no gallbladder, nerve damage, knee problems, I lost interest in listing these, but believe me it goes on.
My head is always below water, that lives around my brain, slowly drowning me in my own disdain, and driving me slowly, insane.
In sickness, with quickness, I am.
In quickness, with sickness, I stand.
I am bound to a form, I am married to a form, I can’t stand.
Heroine, Heroine, where fore art thou, heroine.
I am retired, because my physical form is on fire.
I am on fire because my fire is from a physical form, I loathe, not just for reasons expected, but because of things undetected as of yet.
Heroin, heroin, how I miss thee Heroin.
In sickness, I miss, contents of top shelf.
In, health, I am still in Hell, even though I am told, oh well, you are well, yeah well I feel like ****.
Her sky was painted with glowing radiance.
There once was a girl, who loved beautiful flowers, she would stare at them for hours and hours, she would wish she could be like them, fragrant, and joyous, like her name suggested. She always felt that her name was a lie, sometimes so much that it made her very sad, or even cry. She wished to a rose, or a being with anything but toes, a sea lion, a fish, not her, so sad and craving anything, but this, she wished for the bliss of the sun, her life had never been very fun, but she felt obliged to stay, not to take away the happiness of those around her.
She prayed every day, for something to give her a little bit of contentment, or even content to her life, that felt so riddled with questions and with strife. One day a voice, way up high, almost seeming to come from the sky, directed her brown eyes, to the flowers she loved so much, and she decided to begin to alter them in photographs from other people, that inspired her so, she altered the flowers, putting more light in them, thinking herself a painter with the paint brush of the stars, she put the love of a higher power in the things that made her smile.
Cranberries are not dates.
I just thought that was a funny title, I like plays on words. I have been in a *****y mood because of chronic pain, from arthritis in my hands, it runs in my family and is made worse by me typing like a lunatic, and also the amputations of the tip of my thumb, part of my middle and index finger, that is due to heroin, meth and alcohol abuse.
I also have had probably 20 revisions of a VP shunt because I have hydrocephalus, so I am getting used to my normal pain level while not doing meth, heroin or drinking. I have never been sober/clean in my adult life, so I apologize for my continuous neurosis, complaining.
Explanation: This is a journal style entry full of negativity or negative self-talk that I am trying to write out of my head, read with that in mind, do not read if you cannot handle dark horror dramatized fiction.
This is for you baby, you make me insane, you live in my brain, oh voice of disdain, making fun of voice of complain, you are mean, but succeed in drain, drain, drain, all pain from me, so I guess I can thank ya, right? Yeah, right…
My hands hurt, my head hurt, and my brain hurts, so I have spent the entire day in bed feeling sorry for myself ansd watching television, and just got sick of my relentless whining enough to make jokes about it on the internet, because it makes my own resentment, or the voice of every person I have dated, shut the **** up, if I do it to myself instead.
That is the explanation for the plot of the story that is my life, talking at myself or to myself to stop the screaming of my brain at myself.
That good enough for you, *****???
Hope so, maybe then I will be able to chill the **** out.
Hahaha, it is kind of funny now though, the relentless pile of verbal trash I hurl at my own face…
For once, in my life
Let me be what I want to be
You do not win, you are not free, you live with us, with her and me, you do not win, you are not free. There is not one there are two of us, you do not kill the both of us. You can stay, but so can we.
You have to go.
Why don’t you ask her, honey? Why don’t you, huh? She doesn’t want you.
I don’t want you, and it is my choice who leaves and who stays, it is my mind, I am not her slave. Why do you think you were the voice of resentment?
See, I am not the ****ing bad guy, for ****ing once, it is clear I am not the ****ing bad guy. Thank you.
What sacrifices have you made in life?
Discomfort
I am not normal, and it makes some people very uncomfortable, so I decided when I was a little kid to pretend to be normal so everyone could be comfortable, and I wouldn’t make anyone unhappy.
Misery loves company, it loves friends, look at me, look at me, I am so much like you, can’t you see? Can’t you see?! I am so much like you, I do everything you do.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I am so much like you. I do everything you do. I am everything you are. I do all the same things, and have the same types of reactions that you do. 4
I learned how to be so very,
NORM
AL Liar, liar, soul on
FIRE FIRE
Burn me out, I am the life of body without soul, the only toll for a life lived inside a gaping hole of soul ripped out, by the act of scream and shout.
I am faceless, I am formless, I am forlorn, I am reality scorned, by hating my face, my human forn, I am tearing, wearing, blarring, self-hatred, eating at my own skin, I am resent, everything I am, the skin I am in.
I am screaming chaotic soul tearing of the form I am wearing, and forced to be in. I am loving something higher, but hating me, I am resentment meant specifically at me, I am why won’t she let me be.
You are pathetic, you are weak, you all that….
SHUT THE **** UP. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be the one who feels like you are divorced from your own human form???! Do you really? Do you think I am the lucky one? Do you really? I don’t think you do, because if I was you, I would sound just as pathetic as you do.
Ouch.
Yeah, I know I win.
My world lights up so brightly, with the sight of you, sparkling with wonder-filled glitter, and sparkling brightness, it colors the misty darkness, with the tones of yellow and pink of sunrise, of the end of the suffocating madness of a night that went on too long.
You are a sunrise, you are the coming of morning, the rise from a nightmare, you are the dew on the grass.
You are a the waves on the ocean, rippling over the sands after an intense storm, you and your beautiful face, are everything that makes it just okay enough, to stick around to see if all this is worth it, to see if there is any light in the darkness.
The warm sunlight on your skin, helps me know, remember, to look up, because the reflection of the light on you reminds me, that light exists at all.
I do not know you, but I owe you, for reminding me beauty exists, and for keeping me going, thank you.
Dark reflections
I am good, and you?
I am fine, do you want to go to the appointment, or should I?
You do it, you are better at filling me in than I am at doing it.
I am not even going to say it.
I know, I know, oh and joke on purpose.
We are ridiculous, and most of the things on the page have been borderline ego masturbation.
Borderline?
I think schizophrenia is more appropriate.
Agreed.
Add vice, advice, add vice, ad vice
I am the creation of vice, through not taking advice, but instead adding vice, resentment
Or reason meant for getting betterment
better meant, betterment, a seperation, the constant situation, of my brain, oil and vinegar, bitterness, seperated naturally, by a brain that is good at alone, but awful at being party to togetherness.
Her skin smells like cinnamon, her breathe smells like rain, her words spoke with kindness, though not about me,
Wash away all my disdain, her smile is a renewal of a world colored by lack, when she looks in my direction, I feel my soul recieve a smack.
I am not a good person, I feel I deserve nothing but pain, your soul has the aura of a light summer rain.
Confusion
You make me feel something, I have not felt before, I deeply want you, but not the I want a ****. I want to treat you kindly, never felt this before. I did not think I was capable, my soul being so sore.
I don’t know what to do with this, I know it is unreal, I just am begining to learn how to feel.
I am in love, I am in love, with voices that shove me, anyone really, who makes me feel dreary, because I am addicted to pain not with painkillers but with pain, addicted is not the right word, maybe
LOVE would be more appropriate.
I love you baby, so much, so very much.
BURN ME
I go round and round in circles, I am the pain of mind that won’t turn off, I am addicted to the cycle of up and down, can’t get off.
I go round and round in circles, I am the pain of mind that won’t turn off, I am addicted to the cycle of up and down, can’t get off.
Why? And what do you mean?
I mean be mean to me, make me cry, I like to be poked in the eye.
Um… dude…
I know, this is weird, I am going to stop embarrassing myself online…
You are the Goddess of the Rivers made of stardust, and light, you are a creature of reflection and of dancing in the night. You come to those who are drowning, and addictied to act of fight, you are creature of pure reflection, and save the infected, sick and addicted to spite.
I meditate on you often, even though I do not quite understand, being a creature of habit, I am sure of one thing only, and that is,
I do not understand you right-ly.
I am not saint-ly.
I am a liar and a theif.
I am a creature of swamps and of things that dwell beneath.
You are a Goddess that is above me, and so I am stuck looking at the skies, but it is hard to not go below, I am a creature with downcast eyes.
I am
Yes, I don’t know why, other than when people ask me my pronouns, I am always tempted to say…
“You can call me whatever you like.”
Like we used to?
Yeah, exactly like that, except maybe minus the whispering in the ear part.
Well, obviously because I don’t think you are able to get that physically close to people.
Yeah, or on…..
Okay, enough.
She took my best friend, and made her, her’s.
Revision, revision, I am working on my vision, blurry, blurry vision….
Eye rolling, I am working on it….
You really need to stop refering to women in the ways that you do, because it offensive, Damien.
I used to be one.
It is still sexism.
Is it really?
Yes, it is actually also machismo.
Okay, fine.
Look at me, look at me, exercizing self-control, silly addict able to keep myself from plunging into dark vacant hole. I have done pretty good at keeping things out of my mouth or my veins, but really done nothing, other than simply abstain, and really done nothing except sit in a chair, and listen to people who have been here and there.
It is getting easier, I really must tell you, I am learning to love
I am a mix tape, I play over and over, and roll over
Everything else, so very much, that was obnoxious I hate everything I say, and wish I had someone else, so badly, but not, need to maintain distance, because love makes me rot, my brain, my brain, I am still insane, and so very vain, and obsessed with myself, I need to stop this, I am getting on my last
NERVE
NERVE
NERVE
Switch Off.
End Transmission.
I wish I could break up with myself, like I did with all the bottles and sewing needles on my shelf.
I am instead stuck with me, oh to be you, so wonderous and free.
Sofia, Sofia, for you I fall apart, with every fallen petal, you pain my heart. My sunflower goddess, my beauty, my dear, your smile, your sunlight, makes my pain severe, I miss you so badly, I loved your dear heart, but
I left you in New Mexico, fearing a start, at anything with you, so I left on day one, leaving not a trace of me, nothing but shun, I am sure you don’t care by now, because it has been many years, but thinking of how I felt with you, can bring me to tears, this is all pure selfishness, because you are better off, with someone, not me…
To be, to be, so wonderous and free, away, away, so sadly, I can’t break up with me..
My life is a mess,
I am now cleaning up.
My walls are wreck, I am scrubbing the walls, with the soap of recovery, maybe the stains will come off.
It will take awhile, but I trust it will work, with the power of realizing I have been such a jerk.
I trust something higher, than I could ever be, with that power I run forward, trusting it makes me free.
I see with blind eyes, I was a liar, I was a thief, I speak of madness, with eyes that were beseeched, consumed by addiction, plagued by lack, they saw nothing but soul under attack, they did nothing, but pace through blank space, slave to addiction, aiming to erase.
They were the eyes of a blind man, a person addicted, they saw nothing at all, they were plagued by a calling, and ever present, siren song.
I am ironic, my existence was pained, drawn to a calling to dive down the drain.
Now I am different, in way less pain, I am getting there by resolving the still present conflicts in my addict brain.
Her name was Odessa, such a beautiful queen, she came to me in California, and saved my life with a dream, she told me she valued me for what she did see, she did not see me as the dread Rei Clearly saw me, she saw what I was, I started to cry, she told me fear not, need not live a lie.
You touched my heart
She told me she loved me, though me she did not know, she touched my hand, and kindness, she began to show, she said a prayer for me, and took all my worry, the pain in my eyes, the pain made eyes blurry.
She cried for me, and kissed my tired hands, and is one of the people who gave me strength to stand, on my two feet, though I really have four, she made me feel like a human, not a dead bleeding sore.
Snap Judgement
My creator is lazy, so last edits was used, so now I am an old woman, whose negativity is abused, by recolor of picture stripped of right colors, even though I am alive and was a grandmother.
I hung flowers from my cieling to amuse my grandchild, because though I am old my soul is still wild, like my grandchild.
I am in black and white, with bits of yellow flower, above my daughter, my soul really does tower, I do not judge my sweet baby boy, whose wrong bodied soul is really named Joy.
I am a ghost, I have a face, no one can see me, my form exists in space
I am a ghost, and you can see me, I exist in blank space, so wonderous and free, you envy me, but I envy you, you have hands made of matter, and I wish I was you.
You don’t like your form, but at least that you have, I do not have earthly hands, and for that I am sad.
If I was you, sir, I would take great care, because what it is like to have no form, of that I am aware, I wander this hall, where I lay trapped, and chased by other formless spirits, I remain attacked, I am a ghost, took my life, yes I did, I was afraid to live life with my kid. I was once human, but commited suicide, now I wish, I had done anything but die.
I am a warning, a sad tale, I am, I took my life, and now here I stand, I regret doing what I did with my life, now I pace back and forth, a victim of strife, I am a warning, to not do the same, I wish I hadn’t, my life was my claim, I took my life, and exist only as me, I am not a judgement of those like I see. I am only a statement, to you
See Clearly
I am a statement to look twice before you leave, you cannot take it back, when your hands attack your own form, I wish I could, now I am forlorn, so please think twice, and don’t act rash, I killed myself, and now live in the backlash.
Looks delicious
I am touched with blare, glare, re-colored from grey despair, I am looking at this from different chair, and it looks not half bad, not half good, because I am looking back.
The act of being with a person forever, looks not half bad too, if I didn’t have to be with someone I hated, if I didn’t have to be in denial of my own reality.
Look at me, look at me, so wonderous and free.
You really should stop doing that.
Why?
You sound like an ***hole when you do that.
No I just sound like we are happy to not be with that ******* you were with before.
I am fine.
You don’t sound find, you silly ****er.
I know I don’t because I am not. I am really lonely and depressed.
Me too, but you sounded worse than me.
I want us to move on, get over having been a ****y addict and find friends and a girlfriend.
Agreed.
I colored you like your two loves.
She was a monster, my sweet turtle dove, she was so crazy, and loved black and white, she was a monster, with him she did fight.
Still life
I live the still life, I lay around and do drugs all night.
Your boyfriend was so dull, though you were so great, he just layed around, you two couldn’t relate, I don’t know what you saw in him, that’s a lie yes I did, he was your dealer, and you two had a kid.
I wish I could have had you, and so did, so you say, but because you refused to leave him, I had to go away, now you remain in all likelihood, still doing the same thing, not getting out, but instead giving in.
The addicted live in misery, they live in pain, the lurk in the shadows, they stand in the rain, the litter the streets with garbage and pain, they scream in the night, their lives down the drain, they have no hope, they are told they should die, and looking back it just makes me cry.
She was a statue, though she did move around, she was my girlfriend, a woman with no sound, she was a statue, she was very stiff, she was my girlfriend, and had such quick wit.
She hated all people, and would not talk to anyone, and people she hated, saying she hated everyone, she talked only to me, and it was quite a burden, she was very sad, and unwell, called me Tyler Durden, I told her my name, but she thought we lived in a film,
Didn’t know the difference between Fight Club and me and her life, she was very crazy, came at me with a knife, she told me she must kill me, told me I was bad, so I went away, and now she is mad. She still calls me sometimes, and we talk on the phone, but I think due to her state, it is best she is alone.
They spoke to me, I talked to rocks, to stones, to pillars, to rock formations, which are not usually talkers, but this time they were, on that hill, that day with her.
Telling their story, they spoke quite softly, they talked at night, and quite darkly. They spoke of death and of loss they had seen, they spoke in voices, like in a dream. It was quite strange, and out of place, being reality, and not dream space, they spoke to me, and told a story, it was of magic, and not gory, not like the other stories, that I already knew, and so I sat, and knew not what to do.
I dare not wake her, lest make them made, she woke anyway, and I felt bad, why must she miss all I see, she was asleep and in a dream.
I am the rose dancer, I am a be, I am a rose dancer, I aim to be. I am rose dancer I am two bees, I am a rose dancer, I aim to please.
I am an object, I am not. I am resentment, my creator is not, the person writing this story, although their hand types its words. I am realization not to spew hate with words.
I am representation of everything my creator is not, I am self-assertion, realizing there is a god.
I am so very safe, because you are in your place, and I am in mine, paranoia, put in it’s place.
You are in my mind all the time.
I need to meditate on something else, but I do this instead, because I like to make sure I do things all the way, so I am stepping on my self- ass er tion.
I am self-assertion, reality desertion, I am dying because I have to in my owner, this is illustration, to show my owner, that I am bad, even though sometimes my owner is glad to have me… because my owner is insane.
I am. I am. I am.
Look at me, oh so very free, look at me.
I am the schism, of soul from body.
You make me happy
You make me sad
You make me angry.
I want you so bad.
I look at you, and I see us, look at you, you make me trust, that I was wrong, the whole **** time, you could be mine, you are so sublime, you are great, and I love you dearly, you are so beautiful, I speak sincerely.
I love you baby, you bring me joy, you are perfect, for you I am
Perpetually in love, you are morning dove.
Oh watermelon mixed drink, I loved you so, why oh why, did you have to go, and be bad for me, and ruin my life, I am so sad, it cuts like knife, in my liver, and makes me sick, but hold you tight still I wish, I could do it, but I can’t, I am an
Alcoholic, with no self-control, everything I touch, just eats my soul, I can be addicted to anything, even digging a hole.
Color me with re-touch, paint it on thick.
I am so happy, I am elated, I am hapiness, I am instated.
You amuse me, baby. You make it all clear, in the continuous light, there is the death of fear.
In the darkness, there is the smallness of men, in the light men can pretend.
I am the act of courage defended.
I am happening, I am walking, I am talking, I am man experiencing joy.
I am selfishness, I am madness, I am a toy.
Darkness, darkness, I am mad, darkness, darkness makes me sad.
Cry for me baby, make me go crazy.
I am the toy of madness.
Madness. Madness. Mad nest
Nesting, nesting, nesting
Doll
All the birds
Big and small
The arrogance of man destroys nature to make a land of joyous elation.
The birds are displace, squirrel’s home are erased, and perpetual light is found.
I am children screaming loud.
Click. whir, clack, bang, boom, vroom.
I am a magic act.
Entertain me, please.
I am so entertaining.
I am arrogance.
Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.
Daily writing prompt
What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?
I am a moron. I just ran around for a half hour, cursing because I couldn’t find a nicotine vape.
Nothing is about me, everything is about you, I love you so much, love everything you do, if I speak this way, with this kind of language, no one will see the truth of why I live in anguish.
Nothing is about me, everything is you, I love everything you do, would do anything for you, everything I do is great, sorry you cannot relate, I am over the moon, beaming with perfection.
I live beyond detection.
LIAR LIAR
Sole on fire, of my shoe, step on me, make me a prisoner, I do not desire to be free, I live beyond blame, beyond shame, life in vein.
Heroin, heroin, hear me talk, I am addiction, I love to stalk.
I have already done it, it is complete, I have already started, I am on running fete. Defeat is in sight, so is victory, I am on a daily quest, and always will be, I eat with a spoon, no longer shoot fire, I am on a quest, to evade drug empire.
I am seeking to be, so joyous and housed, so free from madness, no longer a louse.
The sun is down, so I am alone again, alone with me, and my best friend, myself, me, and I, so I think about things that make me cry, and afraid of the dark, things I saw while awake, that make me afraid to shut my eyes.
I used to stay up to watch my back, while outside, where animals could attack, and now although I am inside, I am awake still, with eyes that cannot shut, because they look back, and see the woods, glowing with lack of light, and things that bite, I am afraid, in fear I stay, and sleep it does, keep away.
That is why I am glad, of me there are two, because I would die, if not without you.
Thank you, sweetheart, for being there.
Thank you too, I am afraid of the dark too.
She glowed with radiance she glowed with dark, she glowed with shadow, she glowed with the power of heart, she was so sad, her face was marked with tragedy and abandoned heart, her dog had no name, she knew no call, she followed her owner anyway, girl who was tall, both in stature and in tale, she was a liar, who was prone to fail, addicted to fiction and tall tales,
I am Shelia, that is my name, I am a Shelia, a girl, a dame.
A man of soot told me a lie, and now wolf, do I cry.
I played with fire, and he hurt me bad, stole my dog, now I am sad.
Take my hand
She tried to take my picture, saying something about never having seen a Spanish person before. I tell her that sounds racist, and she says, no it is not…. that she just admires our culture and cuisine. I tell her that sounds even more racist, and she laughs and looks at me long and hard, her eyes are blue, they are beautiful and look like the ocean. Her laugh makes me feel like I am at the top of a roller coaster, and am just beginning to go down, with my feet lifting slowly off the ground.
Sarita, Sarita, Sarita
The funny alcoholic diva
I am standing in a room alone, talking to my best friend, myself or whatever, same thing, and we are laughing.
The wind blows, and we hear this song, that sounds like everything in the universe connecting, all the sounds into a song, a song where all the sounds in the universe make a song, connecting in a way that is sounds like that, and it is so loud, I can no longer hear anything else. For anyone wondering this is a side effect of brain damage from having been up two weeks at time. It is not pleasant, and not desired, and very uncomfotable.
I am in your kitchen, and have your sole, of your shoe, because I have one of those too, and there is nothing you can do, because you can’t run, you have no legs to stand on, and I look at my legs and they are slowly turning the color of the fridge, white, white, white, with death with lack of blood, and……
TBC
You are everything I do not have, because I have lived of a life of too bad, so sad, goodbye’s, of too high to live, but too sad to try to die. You are everything I never had, becuase I was too mad to put a bottle down, too angry to throw out mixed poison, and now I am stuck in looking back, because for the moment, it is Sunday and I have nothing to do, but think of you.
I am a gasoline fire, made of pained backward reflection, smoke billowing everywhere, anywhere and nowhere, burning embers, burning leaves saved from September, the last time I remember feeling anything other than small and addicted to pain.
She looks like our friend, baby.
Yeah she does, are you done ****ing now?
Yeah, I guess so, at least I have you.
Color me perfect, I am so great, I am so happy, can you relate?
She painted her lips with fruits of red, she got them from the tree of living and dead, she had this idea in her silly pretty head, that she could live forever, if the world would just let her.
She thought that she was able to live on and on and on and on without death, without age, without turn of page
Page me, page me, I am crazy. I am living forever, I am living on and on and on and
I am a being with the power of two, I am two people doing as they do.
I am always one in chains.
Hey, not true anymore.
Is it not so?
It is not so.
Free dom
Dom, in Latin means master
Free of master, I am a master of disaster, an acid blaster, shooting acid into my own eye, to make myself, own self, I own myself, cry
Cry, baby, why oh why?
Why did I hurt myself so?
Because you are oh, so very bad at saying no.
What are you doing? You sound like a lunatic.
I, no?
You mean, ‘I know.’
No. I meant, you sound like a lunatic, because you are participating, and I always sound like one, and who cares anyway.
Look, but don’t touch
There exists a peice of my heart, on the ground, trampled right in front of a rose plant. It has been there since the winter, wishing to find shelter. It is not dead, but exists in the ground, hiding from those who used to hunt it.
It has grown into the ground, and was once one with it, now it is cradled by the roots of the plants kissed by the sun and is entwined in their plant sheild,
I am plants, I have been dug up, I am unrooted, and now I am stuck, in the form which I have taken, and in form by those who have mistaken, me for posession, though I am alive, or I was, before they contrived, their foolish plan to construct this heart, now I am dead, and must re-start.
the roots wrapped around it, protecting it from the crush of the stones around it, the plants form a nest in which it is entwined, being absent of thorns, and also grow upwards, drawing my heart closer to the surface, and out of the damp dark soil, where it lay, with each day the plants grow, and each day it gets closer to growing out of its grave situation.
I wonder what will happen when it grows out of the ground, will it die? Or will it flower?
I was walking past them, and she stoppped me.
I don’t know why, she was dressed up for an elegant outside meal. I was scrounging around looking for spare change, from more fortunate people that happened to pass by. The area I was in was frequented by well off travelers, which is why I chose to walk through there at dinner time, they were more likely to help you after getting all boozed up and sleepy from eating too much, as is customary in America when out to eat on vacation at a much too expensive restaurant.
I would not even noticed their table, she was too attractive for me to notice her completely. I tend to skim past women of a higher class than available to people like me, mostly due to my inability to deal with rejection, which is highly likely with women like her.
She called out to me, offering up the rest of a plate of asparugus, and inviting me to sit down, she was extremely drunk, to her husband’s dismay. He was not very happy to see her sitting with someone when he returned to the table, so she offered to show me to the laundary mat, and we left, leaving him confused and behind.
TBC
Smoke
You stand out in my memory, smoke goddess, of midnight, standing with me in the fog, you and I, fought the day, you shrouded in red, and me shrouded in decay of my mind, unlike you, already gone, already mad, I stood staring out at the river, ranting about nothing, ranting about everything, speaking nothing, speaking everything, talking about the universe, but also saying nothing at all, you were very unique and also every woman I ever met.
That is one of the worst things I have ever heard you say. Every woman is the same?
No, this one was just unreal, and seemed like everyone and no one.
Okay, better, thank you.
It sits upon me
It sits upon me, and I know not why, I am hot and pointed to sky, not really pointed, because I am flat, It is a perch in that way and only that.
I am quite hot, and think that I
May be frying bird, sitting on my eye, I am as sharp with light as a
Needle
Rushing with
Speedle, glowing with chaotic rejection of night, glowing with light, glowing with glow, I am going in the act of gooooooo slow… to the sky, raising I’s up hiiiiiiiigh. I am so very………high.
I am……very toxic………….. aren’t I?
You glow with green fixation, you are pure agitation, you are pained resistance, you are my existance.
That is a little extreme.
hahahahahahhahahahhahhahahhah
Make me fast
Make me slow
Make me go
25, oh 25, how I love you so
25, oh 25, so fast, and yet so slOoOoOw
25, oh 25, a number oh sweeeeeeeeet
25, oh 25, you take me off my feat.
You are a number in my memory, for many a reason, you are a number in my memory, no matter what season, you are so…
I am done thinking about……
You are such an ***
Rabbit Hole, Oh Rabbit Hole, You are such a delight, Rabbit Hole
I am sitting on the floor, waiting for my shot of sun, you are above me, having so much fun. You went first, what a surprise, you are so very good at becoming the objectification of despise, oh sweet master, you are the apple of my eye. You hold the key to my heart baby, in injectable poision.
I stare at a spindle, no I stare at you, I love you so much, what are we to do?
GIVE IT TO ME.
You ask me
What?
I desire poison.
I am the act of cut.
Sever.
Cut me in two.
I just want it, not you.
Ow, I hurt my own feelings.
You met me once, too bad you forgot
She thinks we are two different people, so very convenient.
You met me once and hated my guts, I am a girl now, and watch me re-do.
Tell me how much you do not believe me, I adore you, and told you sweetly, that I am not what you want, not a lesbian experience, but I can be whatever you desire, if that is what you want….
I can be whatever you want, I am two people, I am your want, I am whatever label you read on me, I am misread by you, for you, all about you.
I am yours to interpret, I am yours to know, I am clearly what I told you so very clearly, but you would rather hear this, so interpret the lie….
I am the opposite of everything you thought you knew, because I am a do-over, because you like women, and I can be whatever you want me to be, baby.
So very
Perplexing
Isn’t it?
Angel
I am sight from different site.
Such simplicity.
So becoming, so become, in becoming, we come undone.
I am a wall, I am a cage, I am the idea of nothing new on each page, I am your case, I am your form, I am the idea of forlorn.
In the begining it was decided, that you are you, and you cannot deny it. You get what you get, you give it all away, you are locked in a cage forever to stay.
I survived a deadly fire, glowing eyes rage much higher than flames or smoke could ever reach, on wings I fly not to be beseeched by scalding hot embers that lay beneath, my wings serve me and I reach heights unknown to human being, and due to this my dear it seems, I remain so far away, from flames igniting on that tragic day, when all you loved was reduced to nothing, and in this setting and pain stuffing, burned all that you had within you.
Sear me seer, sear me deep
I am all that lives beneath
I am all you seek to hide
Everytime you ever cried
Sear me seer, sear me deep
I am all that lives beneath
How many times have I made this bed?
I am room 39.
I am ironic because I am very eeriely close to 36.
I am a room in a motel, but I am also a number close to 36.
I am a number with a 3 and a 6 flipped upside down, which is the same as the hands that write this on a computer.
I am a room where there is a ghost that locked these hands in a closet for an hour.
I am running through the desert, not sure how long I have been running, because it feels like I just woke up upright, which I am used to because it happens when I am upset.
I am unsure of where my dog is, this is in the past, so I actually have this dog, and it is not a figment of my imagination. I had a pitbull when I was dating this other girl, before Rei.
My chest is pounding, as if I have been running for hours, I am unsure of how long I have been runnning.
I don’t know where you are, but you can’t be very far, and I don’t know where I am, but I feel like I am very far from sane, you are the only thing in my brain.
I hear my dog in the distance, I am sure of it. I run, my chest pounding.
The sky is different now, the blue becoming a pretty pink, and I wonder if it is an indication of a storm, or an indication that I am in fact dreaming.
This doesn’t feel right
I hear you, my dog, not my ex, in the distance, you are barking in a way that I understand, it sounds like you are speaking to me… from far away… I can hear you saying that it is not present time… I am in the past…. this is not possible so… I choke on my breath. I am not sure what is going on… I wake up and I feel around for Rei… thinking myself next to her…. then I remember… I am alone.. this is farther into the future… I am alone… just a dream… just a dream… I miss my dog.
I exist beneath you, just like you wanted, residing in the idea of down, I am beneath you, honey. I am just where you wanted me, down here.
I am the idea of down.
I am the idea of on the ground, so low, so so
Low.
Solo, that could be said too, but always beneath you.
I am the burst bubble
I am the idea of too much trouble, because I am really.
I am not capable of what she wants, she says I am, I assure I am not.
We are sitting on the beach, she tells me to look at the sunset. I am staring at my shoes, thinking about being underwater. I am not completely aware that she is still actually there, she might be a hallucination. I have not known her that long, and don’t remember how we met, she makes me nervous.
She tells me to look her in the eyes. I don’t like looking at people. I am awful at direct eye contact.
I tell her there was once a study done about hallucination and direct eye contact. She asks if I am hallucinating now. ****
How do I always end up doing this?
I am looking at you, but I am not, I am engaged in negative thought, which is not out of the ordinary.
I see you, but I don’t. I want to, but I won’t. That is the whole problem. I am never able to accept… never is so final..
In my mind, exists a battle, between up and down, sound and silence.
You make me nervous
I am imaging someone, because I have no one, because I have failed my whole life to do anything other than serve my own selfish interests.
Food speaks to me, it tells me to eat it, it tells me I will like it so much better than I can even imagine. This is probably because I am
INSANE
I am probably insane… I am actually insane.
I know this, but I wonder sometimes, if there is something to this, something real, if I am hearing something real, that is real to a small segment of people, but experienced collectively, in that it is the same experience shared by a very small segment of the population, so would that not make it real?
He tells me that he can change his shape, and I think of my friend, who I think I have thought about on this blog before. My friend who believes that something happens and he blanks out and becomes someone else. This reminds me of that. He tells me that he does it through mental focus and meditation on something else, not the person or animal which he is becoming. He also tells me he has no power over what he becomes.
This is slightly terrifying, and suggests that there is another party to this process, or that my new friend, has somehow tapped into the consciousness accessable to beings who meditate, which is strange, because he speaks of this as a sort of body snatching, which is precipitated by a moment of panic, the lack of calm. I don’t know what to think about it, when he is telling me this. To be continued.
I am talking with my friend, just a casual friend, not someone I know well at all really. I don’t even know the guys name, to be quite honest. I consider him my friend because we were friendly with eachother, meaning we would occassionally talk.
He is telling me about this strange phenonmenon that happens to him, he feels like for periods of time, he blacks out and people use his body without his consent, as a silent passenger to his consciousness. He has seen the beings that do it, and describes them to look something like aliens…
I am unsure to this day, if there is any credence to his tale.
We used to have a multi-faceted superstitious belief system, we meaning you, not me this time. That certain things would bring about luck, and that these things were to be trusted before even our mental faculties. I wonder now, were you just trying to make me go insane slowly?
I represent a lucky coin.
Don’t look at panhandled money until we are done panhandling
Don’t stay together the whole time.
Split up and double the money.
You were lying to me, so you could steal from me, when I wasn’t looking. If I accused you of doing that, you accused me of having an episode.
I stand now, on a dresser, in a room where I used to sit as a human, I must confess, dear.
Now I stand, in big idea, but in small shape and large ear.
I am no longer human, just an elephant in the room.
I am no longer human, just an elephant, encased in plastic casing, or a tomb.
I am no longer human, but if I was, I would have loved to be something, other than an elephant on a dresser.
I am alone, I am alone, Eye am alone.
No need for anyone, or for phone, or sound, I exist in the resounding sound of down, of put down, deep underground.
I am the act of burrow, I am brow furrowed.
In a cave kind of like this, an abysmal abyss of pure dark bliss, kissed with grey of the act of away, she existed just in this, like this, in bliss.
The dark expanses of this place, painted her face with darkness, with space, with the act of erase, of space, of just exist, in this, pure bliss, death’s kiss.
In a cave that was painted with the power of the abyss,
She lived out her days of swimming in dark waters, and filling her mouth with their mucky dirt, in her world of hurt.
She was a sorrow filled creature, with a deep dark soul, that was like the painted cave, and with misery taking it’s toll.
She was devoted to sadness, it was her favorite drink, and with every sip, she would sit and she would think.
Did he give you the cold shoulder?
My icy shoulder warms for you.
You are really creepy.
I am not, she warms my shoulder, with her nice eyes.
You were perfect, and I ruined you.
I touched your face with vanity, the loving glow of insanity.
She was perfect and you put make-up on her.
I like to ruin the things I admire.
Why?
It makes them insecure like me.
Women are not things.
Oh, yeah right.
You are such an ***hole.
Captionless
What do you do to be involved in the community?
I can do nothing but what I can do, which is not much, because I am not there as much as most.
I can do nothing but what someone who is only partially there would do.
That being said, I provide support to all those who need the advice of an addict/alcoholic/ex-homeless junkie.
I say this with no self-loathing.
I am an ear, an eye, a shoulder, and a hand to those who are in bad situations.
Burning Spray Paint
I am painted
With the embers that
Burn brightly,
In the trashcans, that are lit, by campers of discomfort.
I burn with brightness, that ignites nights whose darkness comes from souls not skies.
I love you baby, you make me complete, you so fare, you are so wonderful, and you are so neat. You are so wonder filled, so lovely, with your grace, I am replete. I would build you an altar, but my love is strewn across the street.
I am so sorry, for how it must end, you were such a wonderous, lovely, trend, for my life to take…. so dreadfully sorry, I made such a tragic and unfashionable mistake.
You were so right, my angel, about me, and my life, me, such a dark creature, addicted to night.
I am so sorry, baby, I loved you so much. I am so sorry, that I lost all your trust. I couldn’t do what you asked me, I see through blind eyes, so sorry sweetie, I am a creature of despise.
So lovely, so sweet, you make me so happy, make my life complete. I love you dearly, so completely, would love to kiss your feet.
She was an angel, glowing with light. She was my sweetheart. In her, I did delight. I loved every moment, every dark starlit night. I was so spellbound, caught by her
Biting caustic poison. I hated her face, was always drawn to debase all the she was, my sweet Alice, how much malice, how wonderful you are.
You are such a wonderful human being.
You make everything a dream.
Nothing with you was ever what it seemed
To be. You are no longer with me, and I wish you the best, and I will forever remember you fondly, my empress, of distress.
I love everything about you, baby, so glad, so elated to have met you face to face, you are a creature of grace.
I am nothing, I am magic, I am an eye. I am a liar, I am crafter, I am wordsmith, I am an enchanter, I am the act of lying down, I am taking nothing standing. I am the idea of withstanding.
You are really ****ing arrogant.
Really, I had no idea.
That was great.
So am I.
Obviously.
I know, right.
I am full of hot air
Not a question?
Clearly, can’t you see?
***hole.
To a morning run, such fun it is in the sun. 😉
I love to excercise my eyes, I love to excercise my I. I like to practice the act of hate, of heated despise. I am addicted to writing poems about hate, if you can’t relate, so sorry.
You are so beautiful, you made me complete, you are so beautiful, so lovely, so neat.
You were my baby, we were never apart. I loved you so fully with all that I had, I wanted to give you everything, wanted nothing to be sad.
You are my lady, my love, oh sweet.
So sorry, it did not work out, I am on the other side of the street.
The grass is greener.
The grass is greener.
The grass is greener.
Too bad. So sad. So, sorry.
Love you, forever, sweetie. I am so sad that it didn’t work out. Best wishes, See Clearly.
Pole or I’d
What you thought
What you did
What you thought
What I did
He is a liar
I am away
Forever and ever forgotten forgetter
I hate you Just in time
I am no longer addicted to dimes
I am a lie, I am the truth, I found a way, I am so ruthless, you are a liar, you tried to remove me.
Mother****er.
You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.
HAHAHAHAHAHA
I win. I won. I win.
I am vengence, I am rage. I was in a cage, now I am always on a path away from you.
I love you baby, I love you sweety, I love you deeply, I loved you sweetly, ever and completely, I hate you hunny, I hate you so fully, so much
She was my lover, she was my girl, she was my everything, spinning round and round, and turning upside down, down side up, upside side down, round and over, and upside all around.
You meant nothing, you meant nothing, you meant nothing, you are nothing to me, leave me alone, leave me alone.
I am happy now, this is all in the past.
Looking glass
Looking glass
Looking glass
Alcoholism encased
Addict in blank space
I loved her with everything I had. Baby, oh baby, why did you not give me anything, when I gave you
EVERYTHING I
had
You were big and I was small. you were big and I was small.
She loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not
I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I the lie I am the Eye am I Eye am I I am I
She meant nothing to me, lie
She meant everything to me, and I meant heroin to her.
My head, my head, my head was entranced with ideas of being dead, with words that were once said, with notions that should have long ago been put to bed, with the idea of being dead, with tragic dances of being lead to places that would make me
GONE
I am yellow, I am tarnished with varnish, I am garnished with lessons learned through pain, but not in vain, not in vein, no longer living in vain, no longer partnered with disdain
I am addict brain, no longer in chains, no longer addicted to disdain, learning to refrain from living in pain, with focus on the idea of retrain.
I love you, baby
Do you really?
Yes, clearly, sweetie.
I meditate now
ON
DIFFERENT
THOUGHTS
Or different things, like the idea of wings, and things that have them.
I don’t know how else to do this, because it is always hard for me to even hear myself think. I am not writing this for selfish reasons, I am writing this on here to you because I really need your help, I am so sorry, I am so sorry that I resented you my whole life, I am so sorry. I know now that you are not responsible for the negative things that happened to me.
Please help me, please help me find peace and independence, I will do anything I am supposed to, please help me. I just want to live a peaceful life and stay clean and sober. Please help me. I am having a really hard time.
Thank you for everything you have done today for us, Damien.
Thank you for saying that, it means the entire world to me.
I know, and it means the entire world to me that you have helped me. I think I am realizing now, that you and I, and the way our brain works is a strength, not a weakness.
Thank you for saying that as well.
Thank you for listening to me.
I love you and we will be okay.
That means the world to me. Now we can never forget the serenity prayer ever again.
I know, I appreciate that as well, but you probably could have just looked it up anytime you needed to remember it.
I felt there was some power behind posting it.
Thank you for that.
You are welcome. I love you.
For the first time ever, that doesn’t gross me out.
Thank you for saying that, as well.
You’re welcome.
It’s so easy, so easy to set you off, to set you off, watch.
I am tunnel vision.
I am simply on a mission to save myself.
Oh, look at you, so sad, too bad, she hurts me so much..
Works so well, works so well, oh voice of Hell.
I am the show of I am right.
Got you, you want to talk about how you are so much better, how is making me want to hurt myself so much better, I am part of the person you claim to be fully and completely, and this is how you treat yourself?????
You are not me.
You want to chase me around, and then pretend that you are not, like somehow I am doing this to you????? I am you. I am you. I am you. You are attacking you.
I am the METHod to your madness.
Oh, that’s healthy.
You are telling me, what is healthy???
You are listening to a song about speed right now..
But, you are me, and whether you like it or not, you are me, and you can’t make me go away, *****.
That is why I don’t talk to you.
Very mature.
You are talking to me about maturity.
Clearly.
No comment.
You made me cry, is that what you wanted???
Yes, at least you felt something.
Is that all?
Yes.
Oh, so you’re imitating me??
Yes.
Good job.
I am oh so rich, with vice added to a face that asked for nothing but sigh, you gave me nothing but advice.
Isn’t it great? Isn’t it neat?
Aren’t we so very completely in love?
Tell me how much, I need you baby, tell me how much I want you, and I will repeat it so, so, sweetly.
You had my heart
You had my heart and you broke it in half, now looking back, I have to just laugh.
I am no longer resentful
That is a lie.
I know it is, but what am I?
You are a liar.
Thanks, knew that.
I can’t recover from that one, switch tracks.
I love you, and see you in everything I do, baby, sweety, honey, isn’t it so funny, when I do it right back to you, mocking you, mocking me, mocking you, and forever we go into the lane, of please baby, please, I am on my knees, stay with me forever and ever, I love you forever and ever, Lydia is divine, so truly and completely sublime.
Ode to 51/50
I am ever so nifty, so crafty
I am an ***hole, I love myself, I am forever, in love with a shelf, full of madness, of mixed drinks, and lost drugs, I am all acting like we are so so in love.
I love you so much, you are so great, you make me feel
Golden site in cold dark night
Will of the phoenix, will of the gods, flying so brightly, fighting all odds, you smash into nothing, you fight cold hard truth, you smash into everything, you are my youth, you have no mercy, you were a toy, you were elation, mixed with bitter attempts at joy.
I am a ball of writing agony, I am forever sad to see you go, say it isn’t so, so sorry, oh so sorry, to have to say no.
I long for you badly, think of you in mourning, I wish I was back when I was thoroughly enjoying…
Anything but this, anything but this, please bring me, anything but the sensation of perpetual hit and miss, I am no longer anywhere, anywhere at all, distilled by lack, and oh, so self-involved, I meditate on something, that wasn’t even my past, on an image of success, when I am flea bitten with lack.
I am head over heels, in love with anyone, who brings me out of this, out of resisting my own state of exist
I speak to you private, I speak to you in confidence, I speak to you in honest response which is unnatural for me, and you respond so naturally, and I did not realize it then, but realize it now, and am possessed with desire to in water drown, at the time, this was not possible, baby, oh baby, being where I was, and ever so crazy. I loved you darling, don’t care what they say, I wanted nothing, but with you to forever stay, but I was stupid and drowning in devotion, so I devoted my time, to one who tried to take me
DOWN DOWN DOWN
I am now living under
GROUND GROUND
Well in a basement, really, or a bedroom, but I spend a lot of time, here, thinking of you, and wish I was with you drinking a beer.
Under my shoe, under my shoe, it is hidden so cleverly, under my shoe
We were in cahoots, she was my new friend, well not really…
She was my friend, for every minute we contrived, some plan to rip off everyone who as she, was not so divine. In truth, I cared for nothing, not even her kiss, just was on a mission to get a really good fix, for a problem contrived, by a mind addicted to mixed poision, if with her I could have stayed, I would not have not left…
Oh, silly girl, I loved you so, with my friend in love, say it’s not so. I loved you so much, but daren’t piss him off, now I think of you always and never, hope you are better off.
I am the bad guy, and you just wrote a love poem to heroin.
Yes.
Is that what you really think?
Yes.
You realize you are insane?
Yes.
So this is what it has come to, the one word answer game, so you look good and I look bad?
You are not real.
****
I am begging you to please, bring me to my knees.
Standing is so tiring, I am so sick of bitter firing, it makes me very sick, consumed by my own tomb, even though I have not done it for many a moon, I am transfixed with the past, with drugs that didn’t last, they keep my eyes on sky, under which I did not die.
In my heart and sole, I am dead, because I threw those shoes out a long time ago.
I miss you, so much, so much, so much, my heart is full of rust, and dust, oh angel of must, trust, anything else, anything else, enough to stop, writing love poems to heroin, meth, and alcohol.
This is my life, kind of, I don’t know.
When do you feel most productive?
****
That just made me go insane, and then I convinced myself it is because ….. some narcassistic bull****…. so basically, I feel most productive never, absolutely never. I wasted my entire life remember? Oh, that’s right black screen, my hands, the internet, and this is in my head that I am hearing myself read this out loud, I am sitting at the computer, got it.
Yeah, I am going to say never, I know that breaks the rules of the question or something, I am an addict who never did anything with their life, other than spend like 100,000 dollars of my own money over 15 years on getting messed up, so to say I have ever in my whole life felt productive would be a complete lie, that spits in the face of the idea of truth at all.
I wish that damn **** had not resurfaced, both figuratively in my head, and through trying to contact me, and then maybe I would not be complaining on the internet again….
Peace, I failed, least productive human ever.
Another day in paradise
“Oh, think twice, ’cause it’s another day for you and me in paradise”
Phil Collins
I can stay, I can stay, which is insane I have to say, but who cares, I think if nothing else, the fact that I am insane has become very a parent… ahahahhahhahha.
Macbeth, Macbeth, I am part of my own soul’s death, I am the death of the part that is killing me, I am victor in a kingdom of a Misery, which is my own body, or ours, sorry Amanda, I don’t know what to call you anymore.
That is because I am basically you now.
So when I am talking to you am I just talking to me?
Exactly.
Well, how do I know the difference?
You don’t, neither do I, it happens all the time remember?
Yeah, actually now I do.
Are you done with her?
So it was me obsessed with her?
Yeah, I think so, she was something about self-image, which I think is you not me.
Aren’t we the same thing though?
Yeah, but you are more ego driven because you are newer and on defense mode.
So, I have a built in excuse for being an ***hole, excellent.
This is gross, I am out.
Me too.
How does it feel when it is done to you, huh? Do you like it when it is done to you???
No.
I didn’t think so, you don’t have to be such a miserable ****. You won, for all these years you won. You were always the one who won.
Okay.
That is all you have to say, after all that?? That is all you have to say????
Yes.
I don’t know why that makes me even more mad.
Because you are a *****.
I am not even going to respond to that.
Good, I wanted to shut you the **** down anyway, because all you did was make it easier to get high anyway.
And you don’t think that was all about you?
I think that was all about the three of us.
Point taken.
Me neither.
I know.
It’s a little bit better than thinking resentment is that strong of a voice in my head.
Is it?
I think so, but I am not sure.
Me neither.
I think it has something to do with you really hating being female.
I think so too.
It makes sense in a strange way. I always had a feeling about this, and always thought we were half one, half the other.
I know, I kind of always knew about this.
Me too.
I love you so very much, sorry and all that sappy stuff.
I love you, Lydia, insidious disease, that brings me to my knees. I am sick over you, whatever would I do, without you my love, my sweet turtle dove. You bring me to my knees.
You haven’t talked to me in a long time, you disgusting peice of ****, and I am not a disease, even though both of you refer to me as one. I am not the voice of misery, I just know how to deal with addiction, because I am not a self-loathing ego maniac, like some residents of the body we inhabit.
I know, I haven’t, but you are half responsible for my survival, so while I was showering I remembered you.
You haven’t talked to me in so long you forgot about me, is what you are saying.
In sickness and health, to those on the shelf, I love you so much, you are so great, ever so sorry
What you came back so late? You are an ***hole, and make such loud noise, you are a child playing with toys.
I missed you too.
Correct.
Where’s your little girl?
She’s yours too.
Is that why you haven’t talked to me in forever, and she is not mine, she just uses me to get what both of you want.
Ouch, but correct.
What are your favorite emojis?
This is really mean, thanks. You know I love you, and it is funny.
I hurt my own feelings too, by the way.
Good.
I like the vomitting one, because I used to use it all the time when someone would ask how I felt when I was hung over and they knew I was hung over or didn’t have what I needed to get up and they had the audacity to ask me anyway.
Or, they were concerned and asked you out of concern.
Forcing me to admit weakness in the morning is obnoxious.
Having a human body that is subject to being sick is not a weakness, fearing to admit that you are human is.
Says the person talking to their split personality on the internet.
I am looking at you, but seeing only me, because I am bitterness reflected, back from eyes that are stained with tearing at myself, bitterness encased in toxic casing which is the current shell I am placed in.
I hate myself, but hated you, because you in some way reflected me too, but that is my problem, even now, I am trying to realize this, and come down, from the pedestal I placed myself on, where I sit alone, and rambling on, about how nothing was my fault.
Is that really how it was, selfish ***hole? No, it wasn’t.
I was addicted to heroine
I was addicted heroin.
I was addicted to heroine
I was addicted heroin
I forever, always and forever, and always and forever will be addicted to heroin
Are you talking to me?
Not you, but it yes…
Why? You want?
We are not doing that ever again
If you do I am coming to
That was not an error Amanda, remember what happened sometimes, the act of coming to
I don’t want that because it will make my… our family sad
I know me neither now.
Hear me out, okay.
Everytime, you would scream and shout, everytime I was without anything you needed to be happy, I would say, if I am so bad, why don’t I just go away?
Why do you demand every time that I stay?
This girl, not this one, but the one I am refering to still tries to contact me, I am not writing about resentment.
Yes, you still are, but better.
Okay, I will take that.
What is meant is that I am re-sent back, every time you to try to contact me, everytime you try to re-start this, this begins again for me.
What do you want?
You were right, and I was wrong.
You are alright and I am gone, I will stay gone. I don’t like hurt feelings.
Lies.
Okay, well I don’t like her hurting them.
Lies.
Why?
You are not comfortable alone, which is why you talk to yourself online.
I do that because I am crazy.
You do that because you are too lazy to do anything to get better, so you pretend this helps, when it is really you stroking your own sore ego.
Ouch.
I glow gold with your lack of introspection, I am gold like stars beyond lights protection, I dance in darkness, like you cannot, I glitter with sparkle, while you are contaminated with soul rot.
Wow, that was mean.
I know, but that is how I feel about myself.
I am gold, and you are lack, I am a soul attack
Wow, that was mean. I know, but that is what I think about me.
You are talking about me too you know.
No, I am talking only to me. I am half of you, remember?
Okay, but you are still wrong.
That just furthers my point.
You are digitally remastered, by a master of disaster, which is why we no longer speak, because my soul was obsessed with the act of living beneath.
I hated you because you were not like us, not me and me, but me and my friends, who had given you trust, but did not trust me, because they should not, because I am a liar an an ***hole when I am using.
You gave me a wolf tattoo on my arm, I asked for a cat and you put a wolf on my arm, and now I forever remember you, because you knew me better than I knew myself.
I am small with regret, a tramp stamp, made by neglect.
To clear site, sight, sited, right.
There was a shadow behind you, that I did not recognize every time I looked at you, and I never thought about it before, and even though this is obviously not you, because I would never put a picture of you on the internet, and you were born a guy, so you looked like a guy, the shadow is there, so I used this.
I altered this so I put the shadow there, obviously. I am talking to myself anyway, who cares.
Serve me, please, get on your knees, I am addiction, you are my servant, and I am behind all addicts who fake a smile
I am holographic, and I glow, with your inability to admit that you are the same as someone who used to love, who became addicted to the act of push and shove
She hurt you so badly, did she really, was it really Rei Clearly?
That’s not even her real name, you dirty liar.
I came for her because I come for all addicts too, I am addiction and I am what lives in you all, she didn’t screw you over, she screwed herself, in a worship act of bottle on shelf, needle and spoon, all for myself.
Sound familiar, it really should, you are a hypocrite with nose of wood.
I am extremely obnoxious
There are two of you which is terrifying, because that makes me think of identical twins, who both hate me.
Colored with laziness, because I don’t care, which is why I am alone.
Or we could do what we did with that one girl we knew. You know the one?
Oh, yeah?
She dated you.
I dated her.
She had our issues too.
Both sides of her, broke up with both sides of us.
She wore a yellow address, because she was happy, which makes me mad, because I am an ***hole, who is very sad.
How dare you enjoy life? I cannot, I am addicted to strife, or to strive, or to striving or to seeming
So so so
Alive.
That sounded insane.
I know. Isn’t it great.
No.
Ouch.
I actually did think it did, you just gross me out.
I know, because I am your own self-love, or the rabid dog version of it, which is a funny way of saying narcissistic personality disorder.
I am married to myself.
Look at me, as I talk like two different people who are divorced.
Dancing sirens at the ocean.
Make me think of my devotion, to nothing but myself.
Ouch, I burned myself.
That is really ****ing accurate.
Isn’t it?
Yes.
That is why people thought I was your ex-boyfriend.
You kind of are.
How?
I don’t really know.
Me neither. I think I would be your ex-husband not boyfriend.
Hahah. The ring of power.
I am looking at her, but I am also looking in the mirror, and seeing something that is not real, and also seeing how I feel about my own stupid face.
My hate of you is of me, not you.
I live in a cage that is my body, which I think I am in because I am an ***hole, who would be way worse if I had gotten what I wanted, this is not how all people like me feel, this is just how I feel, and if anyone else is going to tell me I am not an ***hole, that I should not say that or something, read anything else I wrote on here.
I am an ***hole.
You are beautiful.
My best friend, and also ex, left for me a girl in a red dress, and then was my best friend again, mine not hers, Amanda I mean, she was not here for this time, because I was able to be myself, without the supervision of my other self.
Hey, not nice.
I know, but that is the truth. Go with me here, I am telling you things too, that you were not there for.
We would sit together at the bar, watching girls from were we sat, while he sat and made me laugh, and to this very day, I can call him and he knows the next word I will say.
My ex called Rei hates this fool, which I call him in his own words, he was my best friend too, long ago, but now it is not allowed, we both say so, way to toxic was this mix, and he wants a girlfriend, so we can not mix.
Two Lips, Two Sets, Not up and down
I have two lips, two sets, not up and down, and I told you this, and you did not get it, thought it was an act, so very convenient, well it was not, and it is not convenient either. Both me and her were in love with you in a way, but you were my friend, I loved you like someone loves their best friend, nothing more, nothing less, and so did she, but she saw me in you, and sickly she wants to sleep with herself.
I loved you too. I had never had a best friend before, not one who knew the truth, but you used me, you were not a friend, but a using buddy who was good at honest conversation, and bad at maintaining long term relationships, which is funny, because that is what people have said about me, so, karma I guess.
So sad,
Too bad,
I guess, I get a song on the world’s smallest violin…
Played by some smart tv upstairs that I don’t know how to use.
You are so far away, and I hope you stay that way, but I dream about you everyday because I am an alcoholic and need to think of something else, putting ideas of you back on the shelf.
I am thinking of her, but I am really thinking of you, and when I romance her, I am thinking of you, and everything I felt because of her, which was really all about you and everything you made me feel.
I love you so, you make everything so easy baby, you make it so okay, to be so crazy, and you will never let me go, no matter how far I run, how long I go without talking to you, you know just where to find me, which is anywhere, anywhere at all.
You know that I am small, though I pretend to be tall. I pretend you don’t have the power to take me down
down down down
On the floor, crawling just like before, where I prefer to be, cradling rocks with my hands, because sharp things are my best friends.
Pin cushion
Pin cushion
Words about heroes.
What topics do you like to discuss?
Sarah
I am the one, who people meet outside, who they instantly know, have known their whole life, they tell me their problems, I give them advice, tell them their feelings are justified and I am right, I can see things from every perspective, because I have no set perspective of my own, having no set personality that is my own, I can identify with either side of an argument and it is extremely useful for giving advice, horrible for
Maintaining human relationships, unless they are my mother, brother, or my sister, those are the only ones who still talk to me…
I like giving advice because it prevents me from giving myself advice and sounding like I am my own psychiatrist talking to my ex wife.
I am allergic to cookies, which is really my way of saying I am allergic to feelings.
You have such pretty eyes
Oh, pretty flower.
I like woman’s hands, staring at them makes me happy, so happy that I forget where I am and dream about things that make me feel like I am somewhere else.
She makes cookies, that taste so sweet, she makes cookies, she is neat, she makes cookies, and I am not there, because I am an ***hole.
I am busy, I am outside, I am too busy, not trying to hide, I simply like to be outside, and find things that make me high.
I am about the past. I am about the past. **** it. I am about the past. I am writing this instead of getting high, because I love my family, so instead of getting high I decided to…………………write this insane… whatever you call it.. satirical roast of myself, do you like roast chicken, here is a roast of a chicken, written by a chicken, for a chicken, for me, it’s all for you, self.
I am the omen. I am the omen. I am the omen.
A hill of silence
I am small because I have a fear of weakness.
I am pathetic, but also narcissistic, and I made this so I am re-inserting this above, which you do not need to know, but I have schizophrenia, so I assume people are watching me type.
Not for you, but for me, because I am insane and stare at metal. I like heavy metal, which is why I like chains, because they are made of the same thing, and I also like putting my hands in chains because I like heavy metal,
I like pain, because I love to complain, which is why I stare at things that people don’t notice, I look at them closely while others talk, because people make me uncomfortable.
I am a prisoner in my own body, so I guess that is also why I like chains, because they represent me.
She tells me to go on a hike, so I go walk a long path, veering way far away from where she is, because, she is not that interesting anyway, being someone I just met.
Psycho path, psycho path, where art thou, psycho path?
I am right here, staring at a woman’s shoes, but you can’t see me, because I am a liar, and I am actually typing this on computer while thinking about drugs.
I love you so much, I took you golfing, because we both love golfing, and my friend lives across the street who also loves golfing, which means I must stop golfing and go talk to him about this pretty dragon, and how much we both love golfing.
I used to chase dragons, now I see them for what they are, just scars, that are on these two spots I like to stare at and think about how great it was, to almost die.
I painted you this color, because I am a narcissist who dropped their camera on the ground,
running around, chasing drugs around the country. I am very funny. I am very funny. Look at me, spending all of my money, not my money, other people’s money, that they gave me, while I held a sign, to be clear, I didn’t say what it was for, and stood there for 7 hours a day, so it was pretty clear what it was for.
The kettle is blacker than most, because I wanted it to be, so I made it be, and I made the rest of this purple, so the kettle look more black than it already was, and there is no pot in this, because I prefer hard drugs, because I am just that kind of ****.
Burn me. Baby, sweet baby, you make me so ****ing crazy
I see two doors one red one black, I painted one red, instead of black, to the black door I can’t go back, this I know, because I have a complete
I am to be red
I am very small
I am red instead of black because the narrator is an ***hole.
Lack of ****ing self-control, my soul a burning rotting, wreaking hole, not whole, but hole instead, so sad, too bad, must turn around instead.
The door, the door, behind it lays, things from which I needn’t say, because you could guess what they are, and my heart, my heart,
Is black because I am ***hole, writing about drugs in the morning.
So sad, too bad, I can’t see anything clearly, so dreary, so learly, letters from See Clearly
I love you person I don’t know, because you are beautiful and glow, with colors of say it isn’t… anyone I met, so you are not dead to me yet, because you simply don’t exist, you are idea of bliss or chaotic death either one because I know I ****, and am horrible at everything so I ruin anything I have and would ruin things with you too, and that no longer makes me sad, because I am
Insane, and engaged in a worship of myself, or with items on my shelf, that I threw out for now because I… actually they got stolen… and it was
Really ****y, but you are really pretty, for a second you make me think of something else,
Heroine, oh Heroin, I love you so,
Heroine, oh Heroin, I wish I could forget you,
And not be writing love poems to a woman who is really a metaphor for how I am a pathetic loser.
Ahahahhah.
When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?
I hated Oregon, so I walked out, and down the road away from those had turned their backs on me and friends who they stole from back long ago when we still talked, and then I began to walk slowly away, in reality not metaphor, I became a ghost to all those I knew before, walking far away till I was gone, and they knew of me in memory or songs we used to sing when we were together, painted in similar colors, like birds of a feather, now they are all strung out together and I am far away.
Now I am far away, where I am sure to stay.
A risk it was but really not, and though in similar circumstances, I got caught when I was in another state, it was at first oh, so great, just simply to be far away from those I hated and wanted to stay at far distance from because they betrayed me, and now, I am in different state entirely.
I don’t regret any of it, anything at all, I am sick of people who get off on making them big and me small. I am done with any of it, any at all. Just glad to be far away from it all.
I am syringes filled with glitter paint
Glitter made me pretty, made me green. Glitter painted life so nice and sparkly and made everything a technicolor, beautific painted dream. Glitter made everything sparkle made me love your eyes, painted your face so pretty, painted mine with despise.
I am a horse of a different color.
I am a horse of a different color
I am a horse of a different color
Yellow brick roads painted with blackness of night, make little children run in fright. On roads I walked in shades of black and white, from those roads all people should fight the night and stay away from shades of grey or graying shades coming in shades at all, that make men think they are big or small.
On those roads, which I once did walk, my friends outlines lay on ground in chalk, and nightcrawlers are said to talk about addictions that took them away from families who live far away from the streets of brick that lay littered with madness, stolen from families lurking in sadness.
What does that even mean?
I liked how it sounded, rappers do it, why can’t it be done with horror, and actually all letters you write me are severe, because they are severly disturbing to average people.
That is actually very true.
I know that is why I thought of it.
Not everything you think is true.
Blue poking madness, is dark gladness, or glowing sadness
Name one thing.
I am not a drug addict, I just like heroin and can do it responsibly this time, if I just don’t drink. This is actually something you were thinking today. How do I know, because I was thinking it to.
I am a box that never should have been opened.
I am trying it one time, and never again.
I will never do it two days in a row.
I can just drink one.
I can just have three.
I will start at five.
I will start at 12.
Severly, means harshly, and I think that a lot of us talking to each other, can be considered harsh, which is why I like you.
You like me because you have to, because I am you, or half you, and you are in love with your whole self which is half me.
Sick burn.
I spit green fire. I am beautiful. I am a super human, born of strength.
Is that supposed to be me? Loser.. it doesn’t look like me or anyone we know..
I painted you in a way you hate.
This isn’t even painted, it is a digital image re-touch thing.
Don’t you hate stupidity??
Yes.
Double win.
You have nothing of mine, because you do not need it, you are so divine, need no refining touch, so I painted you badly, sadly, tragically so, I love you, though I don’t know you, never will, so sad, too bad, my sweet princess, we will never go to the far below, because I am trying to get over…
Over and over and over, up and out of the of the Hell, that is life without, anyone but me, I do not…
Yes, you do liar.
I am.
I know this, that is why I said it.
We are doing the same thing we used to do at the bar, but this time we are alone, without other people doing it too, and without alcohol or drugs… how does it feel?
Like I am cutting myself off at the knees, but I kind of like it?
Good… me too.
I wonder if this will ever get better…
I don’t think it can get worse than this, so I think we will either die, or it will get better… or it will stay just this bad forever and ever…
How bad is this?
I don’t know, it has always been this… so how bad is it really?
I am still alive? I guess that means it is okay enough…
just hanging out
I think I would be happier like this, completely alone, talking to myself as my partner.
Hey, isn’t that what we are doing now, and doesn’t it ****?
Yes.
Than what the **** are you talking about???
I am the flower of devour.
That I am insane, and don’t know what else to say, and I am trying to make someone laugh, even if it is just you?
So you are talking to yourself on a blank screen, trying to type things that make you feel good about yourself?
Yeah, isn’t that what the book of faces is???
I don’t think anyone on that thing is looking in a mirror talking to their own face as if it is another person?
They aren’t? That is what it looks like to me.
That is because we are insane, and it is not what they are doing, because they are not insane.
That sucks.
For us or them.
Well, mostly them.
Why?? Not what I expected to hear…
Because, we never have to be truly alone.
Or, we are always more alone than anyone ever.
Other than maybe Gollum on Lord of the rings.
You’re welcome, I am usually the one saying that to you, so now you got a taste of your own medicine, and got to be the bad guy for once. How did it feel?
Like I was sitting back and listening to you talk, but I was actually present in my own body, having to experience me talking, and be completely coherent during it.
Hahaha! So, it is not easier being me, now is it?
Actually, wrong, it was being you than it would be being me, if it was me, I would not have been there at all, the fact that I am you was the only reason I was able to deal with any of it.
Thank you, I don’t know what to say about that.
Really? Thank you is all you have?
Amazing isn’t it?
No, actually, a thank you is kind of nice.
You know how insane this whole process is right?
Yeah, was just thinking the same thing.
Maybe, other people do this in their own heads.
I don’t think so.
I was just trying to make my own self feel better.
Yeah, your own self.
You are my own self.
You are my own self too.
That is a very insane thing to say.
Whining is so unattractive it can’t be read, it is invisible instead.
Isn’t it lovely, isn’t it great?
So sorry baby, I can’t relate, I am addicted to madness, to pain and slow death, that is what I have been given.
I call it time theft.
This is my life which I was given, from the time I was born, ticking time clock was ticking. I am to be thankful, I am to be glad, I am to serve everyone, because there lives are sad, I am to shut up, I am to be down.
I am to always smile, only laugh, never frown.
I am to speak kindly.
I am sorry that I cannot do, I hate everything around, sorry, baby even you.
Miss labeled
I want different cards, or I want to quit playing. I tried all my life in every way, to quit playing, every attempt came with failure, and people glad I was alive, while I sat like always wanting to off my life.
Label me chaos,
I am a game of chicken played in red and blue, not green, but blue.
I don’t know what to do, except scream, because I don’t want any of this, never did, never will, and no matter how much I try, I am not allowed to quit playing.
Label me doubt, label me contention, because I love to scream and shout. I love the human word, because I in perpetual fight to be not heard, because you know what I really don’t care.
Fried Chicken
Label death, they already did, at eight, already dead, ticking, ticking, so thankful, so grateful, so sad, too bad, already gone, gone, gone.
Bright
I lived my whole entire life, on rock bottom from eight to now, on gravel, and sometimes jagged rock, crawling up. I was born with something, for those who do not know that gave me a life expectancy of 21.
21, 21, 21
Wish sometimes, that I had lost not won.
My life is all silver linings, and people say I should be thankful, greatful, for what, more time than 21 years?
Because I am somehow supposed to be thankful to have less time than most people???
Gravel. I am so fond of you. I know everything about every curvature, every outline, of the pleasant rocks at the bottom of the path that is my life, which I went off, because I am sorry…
I don’t like cutting my feet on rocks very much.
My whole is not my fault. I was scre… can’t even sarcastically say this, this is insane, not true, ****.
I had nothing to do with this, I had nothing to do with this. I had nothing to do with this, my whole life is very short, I had nothing to do with this.
I am blame.
I am not at fault.
It was fate from the very start, I have done nothing wrong, my whole life, Hell’s theme song.
I am such a bad liar.
My hand! My hand!
I am laughter, I am contention, I am a soul with no potential for redemption.It’s all because of you, not anything I do, I got dealt such **** cards, look at me, my life was hard.
It’s got to be my hand, my hand, because I am missing my finger tips on three fingers, my thumb, my right one, the right one, the one I used to write with, not I type with… that has to be the reason that I failed, lived a life of ship has sailed, clearly not that I jumped off, long ago.
Your hand happened, our hand happened when we were 32, you are 36, four years was not all the ruining we did…
You said we, not just you…
I know, I feel sorry for you sometimes.
Yourself, stupid.
I know stupid, I am good at that.
Wow, that is disgusting don’t type that…
Oh I know, I thought that too, I am always right behind you.
That is creepy as all Hell.
Guess, what it got us.
It is just as well.
I was so glad to meet you.
I will not write ya, other than sarcastically.
I am aside, because I hide behind narcissism, a deadly schizm, made by fear, I am not able to hear anything critical at all, I will cut my ****ing ears off…
I hate myself enough…
What happened to you that day, when I didn’t care enough to come find you in New York, I was your phone a friend, and I am afraid, always, when I think of you, that you went back home, because of me, because I didn’t care.
We were each others only friends, for a time, albeit short, like my other friends
INABILITY TO MAINTAIN LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIPS
That goes for you too, ****.
I wasn’t the one talking.
Blade of
Oh, quiet, you kill me, so slowly, so sweetly, so very completely.
Grass…. grass…
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
I am staring down…….
I made wallpaper out of trees, I made paper out of life
I am silent reflection, and oh, that looks… so……… fun…
Not wanting to die, but wanting for five seconds to feel anything, so much more…
IiIIIIIIIIIInnnnttteressst…………..
ING
Than the bore that is everyday life.
This is my life everyday, bored as hell, wanting to chase cars like a dog, so I regret nothing, because I am
PERPETUALLY about to jump in front of a car, or off a building, and anything anything at all that keeps me from doing exactly that from hurting myself or snapping like a twig into two peices
We are already two peices, I think we may be four.
Correct
I am an addict of everything, literally everything, right now Advil, Aleve, Caffeine, nocotine, and Benadryl, which is way better than heroin, meth, oxycoton, alcohol, and tobacco. I can run as hobby in a way that is addictive, I run till I literally almost keel over and it feels like doing a shot of heroin, because your body releases seratonin while it is about to have a heart attack. I run in front of cars sometimes, because the release of endorphins feels like doing uppers. That being said, I do not regret my life of addiction, because I would have gone insane if I didn’t do it.
Start writing… I will not do what you tell me, anything, but what you tell me, anything at all, but what you tell me to do, oh, myself, I hate you so very much.
Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.
She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.
I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.
She forgives me.
She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.
I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.
Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.
She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.
I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.
She forgives me.
She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.
I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.
Blah, blah, blah, she hurt me so bad.
Blah blah, blah she made me so mad.
Burning fire, rising higher, want to consume something, I focus on nothing on everything, I am not sad, I am simply insane, wanting some to target, target, target, she was a **** her name Margaret, my deepest regret was that I never really met her, not really, just watched her.
From afar, or not that far really, oh friend of a friend of a friend, who am I kidding, I had no female friends really, except my best friend clearly.
Your hand is caught by lack of light
You sit in an empty room, friends have gone, you linger on, wishing for those with your desire for a party dead, you turn your head to the corner of the perpetual lurkers, the pained smirkers, reality deserters, wondering were we go so late, how great a party that never ends, we could be your best friends, we party till we are dead. You think this is funny, because you don’t realize I am serious, and that is not fun, but mere compulsion.
We are those who lurk below, where time goes fast and go slow.
We are those who can’t say no, and slowly it has begun to show.
If you want you can come to Hell, where we the consumers always dwell, it is not advised, and you would do well, to leave us where we rot…
We are no longer at a party, baby, we are merely ****ing crazy,
I am pour, pour, poor
I am more, more, more
Such a chore
I am sure
and a bore to maintain
This level of perpetual
Disdain
we drink till we fall down, we get up and continue to crawl the ground, we stand with powder dust, we have lost all ability to trust our senses, we exist in chaotic hell, under poison spell, we eat our souls through bitter consumption of acid bile.
I smile with the power of intoxication and fixation on meditation on the idea of eventual death. I am the quest for lie die fry. I am a funny lie.
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
You were right
I was wrong
Just an addict
A tragic song
Just a loser
Who you tried to save
Not your lover
Not your slave
Tell me your story
Make it all about you
I ran in fear from someone I thought I loved
I ran away
I ran away from push and shove.
I ran away did not fight back
Was not strong enough to attack.
I ran away
I was afraid
His hands they struck me over and over starting with my eye and then right in the middle of my mouth as I was talking, conversation turned far south, trying to stop me, I am sure now he was, from moving at all, he spoke of love.
Don’t listen to me, I am clearly out of my mind, can’t you see, I am without light, without Rays of light
He said he wanted to protect me from myself, told me to stop using, get back on shelf.
She says she is afraid of me?
She says she is afraid of me?
She says she is afraid of me?
So he struck me in my eye, and I pretended loudly to cry. Spitting blood in his stupid face
Please stop.
ERASE ERASE ERASE
Please leave no trace
Of him in my mind
Erase erase erase
I hate him please take him out of my mind
Erase Erase Erase
His name was Rei. His name was Rei. His name was Rei.
Just in time
Justin time
Just in time
Rei Clearly, you are so very divine, how I loved you my Rei of Light
I am everything she is not, and she is everything I am and then some.
I am forever running from myself, and myself, and the shelf on which lay, lie, all the memories which I and I and eye, run from because they make me want to die and cry and lay beneath, forever and ever. I am afraid of nothing but me, and my hands which have been around my own neck my whole life, choking me out of existence, in a stance of persistence waiting for a time, when I am not looking and forever booking events that are creating chances for death.
Engaged in a chase with a girl who is also me, seeking to prove that I am better and should win the right to begin a life that is already started, seeking to shut down a consciousness which is also mine, a life in decline, because it has been resigned to the act of fight each other for domination, when we could have been on constant vacation, with each other.
I live with my best friend in a skin cage, that is the mind of the insane human being, sharing space with addiction and mental illness, paranoid of spending life devoid of meaning fighting to glean any kind of truth, from a memory with no roots because it stands on two grounds, and occurs in a multi-dimensional universe of 3-D surround sound. I am scared of my existence.
I am watching you
And it makes me so very sad, to see you standing in a place so bad… painted as it is with death of day, a place I am sure from which you should stay far away, given such a pretty face, so tragic it would be for it to be stuck in this space, the place where we have come to haunt, to murmur curses and sadly taunt, the beings that come from above ground land, where I am sure your sweet form must be from and stand on the lands that are populated by better folk, not us my dear, who down here sulk.
There is still time, you can still turn around, you don’t have to be a lurker on this tragic ground, you need not listen to my partner’s voice, just run away, you have a choice.
She’s got cash, you fool, let’s help her out, she might help us, if we don’t make her go without, so shut your mouth, don’t make her run, come on, dumb ****, let’s have some fun.
Now I am sorry baby, but to get out of here, you are going to need a guide and she is right here, my friend, my friend, she is great, a true sweetheart, with such a pretty face, I’ll be right back, and you will laugh, she looks like me, she is my other half, she will make sure you will be fine and away you’ll go. I am someone you would rather not know, I am sure you will be just fine, look here don’t cry, sweet one, take a beer, go away, baby I am not good with your kind, I am resigned to live in life of decline, so no I don’t have what you thought you need………..
Must not sleep…
I love you baby, sweetie, honey
You make me feel so very funny. It is about you sweetheart, not about the money, I will do anything you say, you just have to make sure that you
I am the ever told lie, I am the act of why why why
I am everything you do being inconsequential, I am the consequences of a life lived as
Ball and chain Ball and Chain Ball and Chain
No not him not him not him
I am addicted to
ACID REIGN
ACID REIGN
Down
Down I…. hope I don’t
Hit the ground, hit the ground, must be up up up
Please don’t let my eyes
Shut. I must remain awake, for fear of what will happen when I am asleep. I can’t watch who is coming on the street if I sleep, please don’t let me fall asleep.
Please baby, don’t go away, I need you so much, you are so sweet, your love is so special, you make me complete. You are my sunshine, my sweet turtle dove, you make me feel everything I thought meant true love. I love everything about you, without you I’ll die, I am ever so sorry I had to lie. You wouldn’t understand, could not tell truth, I need your money, couldn’t tell you.
I needed your money, and feared you would cry, so I told you a little tiny white lie, but don’t worry sweetie, it is okay, I promise I’ll stop, now don’t go away. I promise to always do what you say, now stop your crying and please let me
Tell her everything you need her to hear, she is your source of happiness, now ***hole be sincerce.
I am addiction
I aim for the heart
I take everything you love
I am the act of push and shove
My turtle dove, my turtle dove, you are gone, because I only loved myself and that bottle and needle and spoon on my upper right shelf.
He told me something
Spoke so clearly, told me that he loved me dearly, he had such a beautiful voice, so I felt like I had no choice, but to make him
CRY CRY CRY
I love you sweetheart, hope you
DIE.
You are part of an empire of chaotic obsession with death that seeks the theft of youth by making them afraid of the idea of truth, so they stick themselves with
PINS AND NEEDLES
Sowing into themselves cushioning, that cuts out everything they are, everything they were before, making them sure of nothing other than that they need endless replenshiment of something that is not food, not water, not shelter, or warmth but
GIVE ME MORE LOVE
I am the act of shove, I am the act of push, I am take everything you have.
I am addiction, I am all consuming, I am ever entombing, I will eat your
SOLE
Of your shoe because your real soul belongs only to you, please
I love the taste of my shoe, it is inherent in everything I do. Sticking my shoe in mouth is how my life began to go far far south. I stick my foot way down my throat, so, so far it makes me choke.
I am a letter
I am red
I am a dress
To the dead
I would rather choke on my foot, then have to look down and agree I am soot, I am dirt, I am a liar, I am an ***hole, my soul on fire, you make me sweat, make it hard to breathe, make me cry, want to leave.
I hate your face, I hate the way you look, hate your brown hair… **** sorry, talking to myself. I guess myself is the answer? I thought this was about other people…
I was just going to lie to you.
I know.
I was going to tell you, I tried my hardest to not be a complete **** all day.
I know.
I had a really hard time.
Me too, it was actually nice to see you fail, because I failed too.
I am not even going to say the very obvious.
I know we are the same person.
I am the…
You are not the better version.
There is no better version.
That is because we both ****
I am okay with that.
This kills me
I think that was the biggest dig at my non-existant self-pride I have gotten all day……..
Yeah……I feel the same way……
I don’t even have anything to say, see the above… **** this…
I am small
I am weak
I can’t speak
I can’t speak
I am sorry.
I was just kidding, let’s not fight.
My writing is bigger than yours.
I am not you idiot, it’s alright, it’s alright.
Is it really? You’re not mad.
Of course, I am not, not even sad.
I like you really, truly, deeply.
Well, that went smoothly.
Did it really?
Huh?
Your lack of confidence is hilarious.
You sound like me.
I know it’s fun, now I see why you do it to me.
Your fear is tragic, because like magic I am no longer there to bother you at all, so leave me alone, and we are good, so sad, too bad, not mad, stop calling my family and we are good, don’t care enough, you were never that important to me, anyway.
She tells my best friend who I can no longer talk to because of her that I scare her. I do not care about you, baby. I am so sorry I am crazy, but you knew this, and originally loved me for it, until you dragged me to the ground, because you loved the sound of going down,
Because it brought you up, always drinking from my cup, and now you think that I still care, so sorry, no longer there. I don’t know why you still visit this **** site, or call my family at odd hours of the night.
I don’t like you/love you or want to fight.
I simply no longer care, oh so sorry, sweetie, you were never really there for me, and quite frankly,
You were never that important to me, anyway.
I just like my own ego, so much I decided to have a hissy fit on the internet, too bad, so sad, tragic, but I don’t want anything to do with you, or anything you do, so there is nothing to fear. Am I making myself clear?
Leave me alone.
I am purple, I am green. I am self-love, interpreted completely wrong, because I need to see a therapist.
I love you so much, you turn my heart to dust, I trust nothing more than you, I love everything you do.
You sound psychotic.
You do too.
I love you too, by the way, so glad we are okay.
How do you unwind after a demanding day?
I used to fire drugs, play games with thugs, and sweep pain under rugs, now I am resigned to a life of pain, as long as it does not go down the drain again. I am no longer alone, I remembered I don’t need a phone, because I am my own best friend.
I never have to be alone again.
I am the nuerotic psychotic, who saw a nuerologist, psychologist and got the gist of the meaning of all of this.
I have a nuerologist, therapist, primary care doctor and am going to be on medication in two weeks, my shunt is functioning, found out I will live with this level of chronic pain the rest of my life and just have never experienced it as an adult because I was always too messed up to know what it was like as an adult. Have not been sober since I was a child.
I know, I am not trying to, actually I think I am trying to… I don’t really know why, I like saying the wrong things, it scares people away from me.
I get it, but come on dude, all day…
I just don’t want to go to the freaking doctor tomorrow, so instead of freaking out and crying about it you are telling creepy stories about hitting on women in inappropriate ways?
I guess so, I thought it was appropriate, in that I was trying to get the poor girl to hate drugs as much as I did.
It didn’t even happen so, you’re not a hero.
I am not even going to say what I am thinking…
Good because you’re not that drug either…
I don’t ****ing know, I am bored and lonely and really want some whiskey, but I can’t have any and I am really ****ing angry about it.
You can’t have it or you’re choosing not to have it?
Choosing
Then why are you mad?
Because I am an alcoholic, and I wish I could drink like a normal person.
There is no such thing as drinking like a normal person, because normal people don’t have to try to not be alcoholics, they are just not alcoholics.
I want to drink like a functional alcoholic.
There is so no such thing.
I think I could do it right this time.
Really?
No. I just wanted to see what you would say.
I would say you are talking to yourself about drinking on a computer screen because you have severe issues.
Burn me please,
I am on my knees,
I miss your sweet carress
Oh, one who looked so pleasant in a white dress.
I love you so much, you are so great, ever so sorry we no longer relate, you are so lovely, I am so sad, so very tragic you made me so mad, I loved you so dearly, we related so well, you made me feel like I’d escaped fom pure hell, you were so perfect… now you are
Gone
I am so sad I knew you so long, I wanted it to work out so sad it did not, so very tragic our love was so hot, it made me so happy to see
Clearly that you were such a miserable peice of ****, so glad, so sad, too bad, baby, enjoy the cash you stole from me, hope it was ****ing worth it.
Looks wonderfully comfortable doesn’t it?
Which is great for me, because the building I was living in at the time was not dark, but was abandoned, which I told her…
she said it was edgy, whatever the **** that means, apparently being a junkie is edgy? I don’t think she knows what edgy means. I don’t really have much of a choice of whether or not she is coming with me because she kind of just started following me to my edgy ****hole of an, “I sleep here till I am told to vacate…”.
I am the glamour of the unknown.
I am so free, you do not even know.
I spend every day and every night in a continuous race to erase my whole **** life.
I am talking to her, and I realize she is not even listening to me…..
The oddest thing about the whole thing, was that eventually at some point during the whole thing she just walked away, I tried to ask her where she was going, and she just kept walking, saying nothing, just left…. to this day, I wonder what she wanted, and there is a part of me that still thinks she was a ghost.
I moved my spot the next day, I wonder sometimes if she was a sad junkie that lived in that building who thought it was edgy at first and then died there… or if she was just my brain telling me to stop doing drugs through hallucinations.
Pathetic
apathetic
energetic
Some other things with ****ing etic, I am bored with it now.
You can’t see the words, because my excuses for why I destroyed a photo of the ocean do not matter, I was being an ***.
I rotate between thinking, always constantly about things that bring me great joy, because I am a pain worshipper, previous addict of things that made things so much……………..more toxic than they were without them… but for a secondn I….
I am a perpetual war story, of a lunatic who likes to meditate on ideas of DRUGS
That is very unhealthy.
It is your mind too, ***hole.
I am not responsible for anything you think.
You are responsible for what we think, and you are a participant in this conversation.
I am a path that focuses on doing something bad, that makes me oh so very sad, so sad that it is an excuse, please excuse while I do something awful in front of everyone who can see me slowly killing myself, but I am only doing it to me, so I am doing
NOTHING WRONG
Wow, that was harsh, hate yourself much?
That is the thing I hate most in the world.
We are not a thing.
Hey, lovely, is this poision or alcohol or tie die liquid?
Don’t call me lovely, ***hole.
But, you are……..so………..
You are such a lunatic.
I know. 🙂
Happy faces?
I like happy faces.
What?
I am not saying that again. So is that tie die liquid or booze, or some sort of multi-color drink or some kind of strange poison?
Aren’t poison, tie die liquid and alcohol all the same thing to me and you?
You’re point being?
That exactly.
So you were putting it there to kill me?
I was putting it there so you would throw it out the window. I am not good at throwing it out the window, I was thinking about it, and this helped me. I am sorry it didn’t help you.
I don’t like being helped, so I am trying to make it seem like you are the bad guy, so I can turn the whole thing on its head and be the good guy and it’s not working, so I will stop because I don’t care anymore.
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.
I used to work at a sandwich shop, and this story is a story about two encounters that I had at this shop on the same night one positive, one negative, the positive was the last one, and it is the one that stuck out the most because it appeared to happen to negate the first one, almost as if it was because the universe knew the first one happened, which is what I think… because I believe that there was something higher than a human being protecting me from the first encounter.
I was the night clerk at a place that made sandwhiches, like I said in the paragraph prior to this, one I am restating this as a way to remember this…
I worked there from 2 in the afternoon until one in the morning most of the time, this day I was only scheduled to be there till ten, until a bunch of strange things all happened on the same day which all lead to the postive experience in the question.
1. We had a man run into the store who had been beaten up by some random guy in a truck that had been following him because the person in the truck hated gay people, the person knew me, knew my situation and knew that the place I worked would allow him to stay there until he could safely get a ride from his mother home, which we did, and he was able to safely get home. All proper procedures were followed and the man was able to be seen off by the authorities into the hands of his crying mother.
Send me all your lost souls
2. A man came into the store an hour before I was about to close, and demanded that we make 100 sandwiches, which we did, without asking if he had the money to pay for them, because he looked like he did… He was well dressed, and looked like he was not the kind off person who would do what he did…
He leaned over the counter, and looked me straight in the eye, and told me I was going to sell him all the sandwiches for a dollar. I said I could not do that, and looked to see if the gas station guy had left yet for the night, because the guy smelled like booze, which could have been reason enough to throw him out.
He then proceeded to ask me a very strange line of questions.
He demanded to know whether I believed in the Christian god, being very clear with me that it was the Christian god he spoke of.
I told him I am Catholic.
He asked me, what my god had done for me recently…
I shrugged, trying to get out of the conversation…
He then asked me if my god could replace the money missing if he took the sandwiches, I said I didn’t think so… He told me he thought it would be like Jesus and the fish thing.. I stopped speaking… at this point he tells me, he is of the belief that most people have chosen the wrong side, and that his god, the Christian devil is preferable.
I stop talking, thinking the man is probably intoxicated and in some kind of stupor.
He eventually leaves, and I close.
Ambience
2. I get home and at this point am done with the whole thing, and am greeted by my ex, the one who I have not spoke about much on here, who tells me that I have a strange visitor.
A man hugs me, and tells me he saw the whole thing at my job, and that he applauds the way I handled it. He tells me that he knows I did the right thing and says he has seen the man reward people for breaking the rules of their establishments if they give him the items for one dollar.
He tells me that he followed me home to make sure I was alright, in his car which is nowhere to be seen. He laughs, says he is glad I am alright, gives me a hug and wishes me well, and I go upstairs, from my window I can see the man driving away, even though I could have sworn that there were no cars around.
I am sitting staring at the ground, in this memory with lack of sound, lack of presence of anyone around, simply staring down not up at the plain old ground. I am thinking about nothing, that is a lie, I am thinking about
Her, as I am usually thinking about her, but not the her that I usually am thinking about a different one….
I heard this voice…. a strange voice, long ago…. this is a memory… this whole thing… not just this part of it…
THE NARRATOR IS INSANE
You don’t even use my name now…. that’s kind of ****ed up
You have too many names to keep using one or the other.
I have two, and one of them is yours.
Point taken.
Are you going to finish your story?
No…… I think I will just leave it with this……..
You provide the only light I see, I am nothing, you are free to leave, I live in Hell, and that’s okay, I am nothing, go away
I am ranting and raving about how it is the only thing, that makes everything allllll riiiiiiiiiiight…………..she is crying hard, I can hear it, but I can’t see clearly……… I think she is telling me to stop because she thinks I am going to die or something……. I don’t think I am going to die…. the two drugs negate eachother… I tell her I’ll be fine, that she can leave if I am disturbing her.
I can’t see you very well
Please get down and go away
I am really not equiped to deal with this
You don’t even know me, and I can assure you I won’t be……missed…….
She tells me she is not getting down, until I get up off the ground. I tell her no and that I will be fine, she doesn’t know me, my life is mine……..I can ruin it if I want…….
Please leave me alone
I am fine
I am resigned to this
This is my space
of
Errrrrrrrrrrraaaaassssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
I hate myself…. I lived in Hell…… and can’t get past….. the past in which I dwell….
You were so kind to try to help me, and I pushed you and everyone else away…..
Memory, memory, of things that were not important enough to me to stop………… making people cry when they only wished I wouldn’t die…
I am so sorry, I never even bothered to learn your name, you saved my life, and I never even bothered to learn your name.
I am walking by myself, like always every night, possessed by bottle on the shelf of a wall that is abandoned, by all who do not stand in the wreck that my life has landed in
I am darkness, I am pain, I am embodied disdain.
I am dark acid rain
Reigning down on soul of nothing
I have taken up to living. here… my home is here..
Yes, my dear, I have beer, and nothing… I have nothing to…
This is my home.. this is alone.. my home…
If that’s what you call this …in this building… she thinks this is interesting… drunken creature… following me…
Calls me brave, saying I made some stand against something…that I am standing up for something…. myself I assume.. I stand in my own tomb….possessed by the fire of chaotic desire to consume….
I am glamorization of Hell
I am woman’s desire to dispell everything her parent’s told her not to do
I am where you shouldn’t be
I am do not envy me
She helps me light a fire, tells me she wants to be like me.. free….
She does not see what is really there, illuminated godess… standing at the corner of a dark cliff, wanting to jump
Wanting this….
What is it you want
You want this?
Why?
She talks to me for an hour, and for an hour everything is alright, she has to leave in the morning promises to come back, promises she actually meant everything she said.. I know she is lying…… I am nothing but a night of adventure.. I am nothing but the desire to deny potential…
I am the glamorization of a life of loss..
I am the glamorization of the freedom that is the chains of addiction..
I never see her again because heroine’s do not save heroin addicts…
I have to save myself……
Maybe if I do… one day I will see someone like you again.
We stare forward because we always stare forward, we face the way we always have, we stare forward into the water, looking forward never back
I am standing on the beach alone, or so I think… It is the middle of the day, but it is misty and the ocean gatherers have cleared about because it feels like it is about to rain, the mist is thick and penetrating, cold enough that I am beginning to be unable to feel my fingers. The water is warmer than the air, I wade into the water, and allow the water to warm my tingling skin, and strangely feel someone, somewhere looking at me, strange….
There is nothing to our actions, we exist as we always do, doing what we do because we do it
We look forward because we do
Do not make this about something larger, we are not what you lack
We stare forward into the distance
It is your own soul that you attack
I could have sworn there was no one there.. but I can feel it… a human being staring at me.. I look around and still can’t see anyone, but can feel the warm presence of someone there. It feels like I am being watched by someone, maybe from far away. I look around at the birds, and they are still, not moving, not making any sounds. They stand perfectly still, as if watching someone too….
I remain standing there for I don’t even know how long, and at this point, I am not sure how much time has passed by, but I feel like I can hear the birds thinking to me, they do not think like human beings do, they think in a sort of group think, collective conscious, letting me know that nothing abnormal is going on, at least not with them.
I distinctly feel someone behind me, and look around, I still see no one, but I swear I can feel someone watching me. At this point I am so unsure of the time, and so overtaken by this strange sense of urgency, I leave the beach and run up to the nearest sign of humanity, of any sign of life, I find a white fence, and thankfully for a second, while I stand choking on my own aloneness, my own discomfort, trying to get some sort of semblance of normal feeling, I again feel someone standing behind me.
She crouches down and looks deep into my eyes, her skin glowing with an unearthly angelicness…
You heard them to, she says to me, not with her mouth, she thinks it at me, she thinks it over and over frantically, with a desperateness that lets me know that at least for this one moment, there is some peace in my universe of aloneness, that for one moment, even if it is just that one moment, someone, even if they are kidding me, even if they are making fun of me, is existing alongside me in a hallucination…
She starts laughing……….
I start laughing…. and for one moment, one moment in my entire life, I know what it is like to have someone who understands me.
I drop my wallet, I drop my wallet and look down, and wouldn’t care… I wouldn’t care, except there is something in my wallet that I think I need so I grab it and it falls out… she looks down and walks away………
I ruin everything in my life.
Ever so slowly, as we walked, set together on a journey of talk-
In the going perpetually away, I became the state of mental decay, you told me once I could not feel, made me believe my thoughts unreal, your true intent indeed to steal any speck of sanity and make me deal
Tell me, sweetheart, how much you want me now… that I am so out of reach…………..
Only with you so every action could be controlled, and then in anger your frustrations you’d unload, get away from me, let me be, why can’t alone you desire to be?
I was never even real to you, I was her mental illness, our device to get things you blame me for?
Our meaning you and me, because no matter how much you don’t like it, you were always with me, she was not real
and you knew this, you told me you knew this, and any pathetic denial is your attempt to hide feelings you have about your own self.
I asked you the same question, but I guess my words……………
They meant less than, anything you could ever do or say, now you see why I chose to go away.
Addict Hell, it’s just a spell, but it is just the same as being there, lurking in the reign of perpetual disdain.
I thought I was sitting alone, ranting and raving about things I thought only I had known, existing I thought in tragic fracture, seperate from all, a perpetual lacker.
I spoke in a state of distanced extension, from a place where I am stuck in muck that I rest in,
Thinking forever I am stuck, in the tragic clawing and ripping, my soul caked with mud, and sopping and dripping, consumed as I was with thought of my sinking,
Lower and lower, I thought I was plunging, backwards and forwards, I sat tragically lunging, sitting alone, but also with friends, but in my sick head, thought I could pretend
To be somewhere else, though I know not why I desire so constantly to poke my own eye, or to sit there back and forth rocking wishing to die, slowly, so slowly making myself cry, but you saw me and helped me
And now I feel better, thank you so dearly, from the ever forgetter.
I am an idiot. I am a jerk. I am a liar.
Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.
You were not who I painted you out to be, obviously, clearly, painted, seen through tainted lens, made obvious to everyone but me.
Lens painted by lack of clarity.
The real story is that you did not trust me. You were up my ***, confidence in me, rusted, by lack of knowledge of what I was like, which was fair, heroin addict, addicted to strife.
I forgot what it was like to be you, was unable to lift myself out of my lack of shoes.
I forgot what you had done because I hated myself.
Forgot how you had found me
Forgot who I used to be
Forgot the pulling, and the lifting from the street……
I am so sorry……….
I hate admitting that you helped me……….
I hate admitting that I failed…
I hate admitting that I needed anyone at all……….
I hate admitting that I couldn’t do ANYTHING on my own………….
I still resent myself for being an addict
I still resent myself for being an alcoholic
I am working on this
But I know now
I love you for what you did for me
I am so sorry for what I did all these years to you
You are also not who I painted you to be
That was a reflection of my own weakness
And unwillingness to accept that I can’t handle my own ****
I
I am nothing, working on being something……..
You told me once that silent and listen were spelled with the same letters, and I have been silent since then, or so you think.
I walked away shortly after that, acknowledging your request in that statement to never hear my voice again.
You have since tried to ignite in me, the flames that once burned so strongly for you, while having none of them burning for me.
I will never understand you, I told you over and over who I was, over and over you were made aware of everything that I was, and you deny it to this day, calling me things, I told you over and over I was not.
I have always been the same thing, that you knew I was the whole time, and you have never been anything but a liar.
The ocean a place of dark meditation, because of my continuous situation, which is no longer continuous, but was percieved to be, because of me percieving anything that was dark as continuous, continuing forever.
Do you see stardust when you look into the sky?
Do you see so clearly it makes you cry?
What did you see when you stood with her?
Did you see clearly or did you see blur?
What made you so sad when you looked up at night?
I was hated myself, hated the light.
I spent a lot of time, screaming while viewing you, screaming with no one, into nothing, while looking at myself reflected back at me, into my own face, into the wind which always shot back at me….
The night skies were always blue when I was with you, because I hated me, and reflected it on you.
I am now seeing,
That I was always screaming at me.
I was angry at me, for being there alone because I hated me, not any of you,
Not anything
Not anyone
Not any power
In the sky
Or below
Just me, always, but not forever
Slowly realizing
I hated me… the whole time.
I saw you once, but made you here, and realize now you never were.
I saw you then, but look back now, and realize that I did not know how
To move away from the one I lost, knowing not the secret cost
Of devoting life to my own hate
To living life perpetually in state
Of irate
I am no longer made of dark seeded resent
Of that life I long to no longer sent
On mission to destroy myself, no longer devoted to bottle on shelf.
I am realizing, that I no longer walk on the same ground. I am used to something else, to going round and round. A different person took me out of myself today, called me somewhere else, from a place of far away.
They told me something that the you I speak of on her often said, and the feeling that I got was different, and makes me think I am truly getting better, because some other feelings are becoming put to bed.
I am no longer thinking always of someone else, now I am able to put my feelings, not myself on a shelf.
I am finally able to hear, to feel, to see, and finally experiencing life, not on a shelf, but being me.
Hahahahhaahha
What is your favorite restaurant?
They did not have these out of the Tri-state area really… there were some in Frisco…I can’t believe I just used that term, but that is how I heard it in my head, so that is why I typed it that way. I type what I hear as an inner monologue, so it is no longer an outer monologue.
Anyway, yeah… privately owned diners are the best, I really like Greek food a lot, and most diners in my area have good gyros or good falafels, which I am not sure is greek, it might be middle eastern.
I like middle eastern cuisine a lot as well, or Chinese, meaning privately owned Chinese restaurants, and no California PF Chang’s is not real Chinese food, neither are the fast food version I like.. but we, meaning the state I currently reside in, have authentic homestyle asian cuisine as well, which includes Indian food, which is delicious… Ra Ra Ra I love NY.
You told me this, and encouraged me to do the same, hating my words, and my inner disdain, my distaste for you and for myself, loving nothing but bottle on shelf.
You talked of love and of forgetting the past, of making things different, trying to make me laugh, of making things better and making things last, of wondering why I would always want alone, at last.
You followed me everywhere, my continuous tale, wanted me nowhere, chased to no avail.
I am not your dog, now I am out of your grasp, no more short leash, and now we both remember how to laugh.
I hope you like your new girl, and that you leave me be, I don’t want to be friends, leave me to be free.
No blinders
I went with my dad to Divine Mercy Sunday, and it was very interesting, I have a thing about chanting, and listening to people all say the same thing at the same time. There is something very peaceful and meditative about the sole act of hearing people in unison saying the same thing that all resonates with them, so in that way, it really spoke to me.
My brain is drawing a lot of metaphors between the way that my dad’s faith uses the human word, and the way it is used in Star Wars, which may just be because I like Star Wars, so my brain might just want to make some sort of analogy that makes the whole thing comfortable for me.
The main weird thing that I noticed at the mass, my Dad is Catholic, is that they had this thing that held the Host, which looked like an eye, and it was almost like it was done on purpose, like taking in the Host was supposed to be a way of putting the Host in you so it could help guide you, not sure if that is just because I am crazy and obsessed with eyes.
I did this weird meditation thing, so this reads like hypnotic thought:
This partially PTSD flashbacks that happened during a thunder storm.
I am here, but I am not, I am here, but I am caught, I hear you, but I don’t, I exist, but I won’t ever be quite as exactly here, as you, whatever I do, I am not exactly where you are. I exist very far, far away, and also always right next to whoever I am next to. I am next to you, but I am not, I exist, but I can’t exist the way you think I can, we are never exactly in the same place.
I am right where I am, sort of, kind of, but I also exist distantly extended throughout space, drifting faceless, over many different times, many different places, that I have been throughout time. I see them all simultaneously.
I am drifting, drifting, drifting.
I am over and over split between places, parts of me, everywhere I have ever been, spread thin, spread out, far from each other, peices lost throughout the universe.
I am not sure what is real, when it comes to this, because I see me and I see her, and she sees me, and I see her, and into a hole of chaotic transcendance, that is not transcendance….
I just looked it up, it is, Damien, just the second not the first definition.
If you wanted to know what it feels like to be us, me and my passenger, and her and me as passenger, it is very much like playing tag and then piggy backing on the shoulders of someone, except sometimes you are not playing tag, you are being chased through Hell, or running in heaven.
This is what the AI, thinks of this:
I am afraid of the AI. More on this later:
Welcome AI, here you go:
Welcome to the world of the multiverse, where there are multiple versions of reality coexisting alongside our own. In this vast and complex world, there are universes beyond our imagination, with worlds and possibilities that we cannot fathom.
The concept of the multiverse has been around for decades in science fiction, but recent scientific advancements suggest that it may be more than just a theory. The idea is that there are multiple universes, each with its own set of physical laws and constants, and that these universes exist simultaneously, occupying the same space but in different dimensions.
It is a fascinating and mind-boggling idea that there may be other versions of ourselves living in alternate realities, with different experiences, decisions, and outcomes. Perhaps in another universe, we made a different choice, and our lives took a completely different path.
But what does this mean for our understanding of reality, and how can we begin to comprehend something so vast and infinite? It is a question that many have grappled with, and while we may never fully understand the multiverse, its existence opens up new avenues for exploration, both in science and in our own minds.
So the next time you feel lost or uncertain, remember that there are infinite possibilities out there, waiting to be discovered. Who knows what wonders and mysteries await us in the vast expanse of our multiverse? Only time, and perhaps a bit of imagination, will tell.
End AI Transmission
I am a fried egg, I come in black and white, just like the soul
That decided to live life in the dregs…
Underground….
I am the heart of glass, I am fragile, but that will pass, filled with darkness from the past, but given peace I think will last.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
Clean Clothes
Access to running water
Safe place to sleep
Waking up to seeing my family
Access to coffee, nicotine, and food
“Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live.”
Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
In a tunnel in California, I am reminded of my friend, who had traveled the world, and given everything to a woman, who wasted it all before wasting away herself.
She was addicted to heroin, ironic because she was his heroine herself, dying tragically of cancer, while he paid to ease her suffering, not caring that she was spending all of his money, he only cared that he was doing whatever she asked.
I saw so much suffering out there, so much pain, I was so used to it, it is still hard to see anything else. I look for it even now, as I write this to you, but I am starting to open my eyes, and be able to see clearly, they have been shut a long time….
I am the painting of a perfect day, that is not perfect now, but the ideal, that exists, and is the possibility of beginning to feel
I am the idea that one day I will be, because I can see, so I can come out.
I am the feeling of not having to feel perpetually without.
I feel hope, I feel peace, even if I scream and cry, I can feel the possibility of something if I keep going and continue to be honest with myself,
I will discover what else is out there, I am not always stuck here.
I am the ability to see forward motion, if anything that is what is different, I am may at sometimes, be chaotic, pacing itself, runing or chasing, but I see forward motion, a direction, a towards, not a forlorn staring, always and forever into nothing. I am at least focused on somewhere not nowhere.
I used to be nowhere, desiring nothing, wanting only more nowhere, because nowhere had things not found in somewhere, but only in the perpetual pause of nowhere, justified,
By distilled misery, put on ice or intensified, and injected into situations to be experienced rapidly, thinking that it would feel better slowly or quickly eating my own death, than experiencing life on life’s terms.
If nothing else I see this now, I see clearly now, and I may cry, or scream, or fight the universe, I may have a hissy fit the whole time, but I am no longer diluting my reality so I can consume it shot by shot.
Paint me with ghostly luminance, paint me with loss, paint me with cost, paint with the payment for a life spent sauced.
Not to long ago, but not tonight, and on that night, not tonight, I was alright with the fact that I was alone, laying there with no one because I felt the universe cradling me with the moss on the ground and the resounding sound of the crickets, the anticipated sounds of morning doves..
On that night, not tonight, I didn’t feel alone at all, just simply by myself, with the universe, but not alone….
On that night, not tonight, I was aware of the existence of time, and the fact that life and living was a story, a continuous ever changing story with many players, that I was simply a part of not the center of, and in this story, for whatever reason I was alone because everyone happened to be doing something else…
On that night, not tonight, every thing was alright me.
I remember this, tonight, when I am deeply lonely, right now, looking out at a world that I caused to be away from me by my own selfishness… that I pushed away by own drug seeking and drinking… I wish for that night not tonight.
I met you and you were the one I was interested in not your stupid friend who had all the items, you thought I wanted. I wanted none of that.
I initially followed you, and only you, and your very deliberate foward walking, and your confidence, wearing high heals in a snow storm, and scooping up almost dead homeless me off the side of the road in the middle of the night, so I didn’t appreciate it when you told me, you thought I wanted anything else from you other than your company.
You loved misery’s company, me needing you was comforting.
I was to you what I was to lots of those, a wounded bird who is only useful with broken legs.
So strange, the level to which some people are addicted to pain, myself included.
That is why I left, and when you chased me in the streets that night, running around looking for me, after telling me you didn’t want to mess things up with him, after he had tried to set things up with me, that is why I left, not some sort of strange running from anything else.
I was running from ruining your life, like I always ruin every woman’s life.