I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
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.
I am reading a book about taking advice that I give other people, the author suggested that I write a letter to you, my younger self. This is odd for me, because when I was you I used to write to me. I am glad you are who you are, because you being who you are has made me, us, who we are.
I need little water, I am very relisiant, painted with colors, to look like I am brilliant.
Thank you for saying that, I always think you think you are better than me.
I am a doll house, I glow in the dark.
I am painted with re-touch, with light bright for those afraid of the light stark.
I never say that, I say that I am glad I am who I am, which I owe to you.
Again, thank you.
You are very welcome, and thank you for growing up, and realizing we are us.
Serenity, serenity, I barely know thee, but it is time I see, clearly, that you can exist outside of me.
I am a gold owl, my name is Surrender, I am a short form of creation of re-rendor. I am made with sunlight, that my creator and creator imbue, I am the act of time spent not on overdue.
I am surrender, to my creator and creator’s higher power, I am not a time consumed creator of tower. I do not over consume, or exist to time devour, but merely to say, my creator no longer cowers.
Self-burn, ouch, got yourself.
It is you I am talking to. I said half.
There is no such thing, we are the same human, we just talk to each other, with the same hands.
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.
My mother is the most supportive person in my life, she is the one of the ways I even figured out I was transgender to begin with, she knew before I did, and when I was very depressed after quitting drugs and alcohol, she talked to me about the whole thing and helped by listening to me talk about how I felt. She didn’t suggest anything, just listened, actively and asked me questions, and I figured out the reason I was drinking and using had a lot to do with trauma from having hydrocephalus and various traumatic things like my house burning down, etc. and the fact that I was not accepting who I was.
I literally said out loud to her,
how I am going to be with men if I can’t forget who I am, and pretend to be a girl?
She helped me realize that one of the reasons I used, one, not the only one, was that I was denying who I was.
The woman referred to in the archives of this site as Diane, is my mother, who is with her husband for the weekend at the ocean. She is my best friend, the only one who stuck with me through my insanity and drug and alcohol chaos. I hope to talk to her soon, because the morning is awkward without her. We usually hang out in the morning and make eachother laugh. I thought of a couple jokes that only she will get.
And now this.
I am a bird with a song, and I sing for you, I am up all day long, doing what birds do, I sing not for you, but for them, but it makes no difference, if you listen all day long, I sing with relentlessness.
I am a word used in a weird way.
That’s really corney.
I know, but I have that 70’s song in my head.
I know that already. I feel better after sleeping, how about you?
You are a jerk.
So are you.
You are extremely obnoxious.
I love you, too.
Like I said, annoying.
How was your day?
You mean our day, don’t know, you were there too, right?
Ouch, I am in pain too you know, you just are the one complaining.
Roll the die, I will bet we get a better roll, we the one with two souls, make it good, make it quick, maybe this time, the idea will stick, that we are one, but we are two, and we get one roll, not four or two.
I am standing blaming you, blaming them, blaming something higher, blaming something below me on fire, blaming circumstance, blaming the wind, maybe one day I will begin to win, but not today, snake eyes now, maybe I should just stop staring down, get my **** eyes off the ground.
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’m lonely, and dealt with a lot of dark memories today, so I am writing dark fiction all day, because **** my life.
I appreciated you going to the meeting with me this time.
That’s a first.
I know, memory is not that bad of a thing.
Says the inner child, that forces half its personality to be an adult, and also the villian of their own story, which is really just the horrors of living on the street as an addict.
I’m sorry, okay?
Are you sorry for anything?
That’s very specific…
What do you mean?
That was sarcastic and not a question.
I have been silent all day, because I don’t know what to say, how about you.
I got as much as you, which is nothing.
So long version of saying, ‘I got nothing!’.
I think it is because most of my life has been accepting I might die of shunt failure, so I became well acquainted with death and pain.
Is that the reason for the name of the site?
The name of the site is me loving my own company, which is me loving talking to you now, not before, but now.
Why not before?
Before, when I talked to you, you sounded like me, this is me beginning to know love, through you.
I liked being present all day, instead of being a voice in your head if that is what you mean..
You always have to respond in that way, don’t you.
What with sarcasm? Yes, I do respond with sarcasm, but not always, ***hole.
You are a jerk.
No, neither of us is a jerk, and I love you, by the way.
I am the realization
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 guess so, I am thinking about stuff, and just kind of going with what comes to me, and it is mostly resentment. I think it is because there are no weekend meetings.
I think so too. I think you should try to think about something else though.
I am not really chosing to think about these things, they are PTSD flashbacks that come to me, while making graphics.
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.
I have my own inner child, and married couple living in my head.
I identify as Damien, and the voice of resentment is Lydia, and my inner child is Amanda. I used to refer to my inner child as Lyra though.
That is really ****ed up.
I know right? There you go. See it Clearly?
As a Rei of Light.
I think I am fine. I think I might have exhausted myself though, why?
I had a feeling you were going to say that, that’s why.
I am probably just going to pass out after I eat something, are you doing nightshift?
No, I am going to bed with you.
That sounds disgusting.
I know, now I sound like you, so taste of your own medicine.
Even more disgusting. I sound like you, and you sound like me.
It was good, people seem to like us more now that we aren’t fighting each other for dominance.
So you mean now that you are not trying to be control all the time.
That was you doing that.
True. I thought I could get away with blaming it on you.
The other chick I am sometimes agrees with me.
I know she agrees with you, because we hate each other.
That is because she lost.
I know, and it is wonderful.
This is insane, peace.
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.
I think schizophrenia is more appropriate.
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.
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.
I know, this is weird, I am going to stop embarrassing myself online…
She spoke to me kindly, she spoke to me greatly, not with great understanding, but with great power, power with words and power over me, through my inability to understand her, and ability to panic over things beyond my understanding.
Belinda, Belinda, you were so great, so great
That my arrogance deprived us of the ability to relate, such a tragic shame, and I am only to blame.
In the projected future, there is someone I miss right now, and I don’t know how I miss them, but I do. I dream of you, and like I said, I don’t know how.
You are not know to me, not right now.
You are made of star dust, you are in my dreams.
You are protected by time, or so it seems, because I am supposedf to be alone right now, and so are you, and I don’t know why, or maybe I do.
There is something a higher force is teaching me right now, and I imagine it is the same and also seperate for you, and I imagine the next time I am with someone or maybe the thousandth I don’t know, it will be different.
You really suck at titles.
You really suck at titles, too.
I know you are, but what am I?
That doesn’t even make any sense.
We are both being so immature for a second I forgot who was talking.
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.
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.
I am no longer propelled by the forces of inner hell, and the power of pain swells or waves of force pushing me to consume my own tomb, cut off my own legs, while navigating through the dregs of society, because it became clear to me that, that was what I was doing at all, so now instead of remaining small and un-heroic, while trying to be a heroine…
My sun rays come from the sun now, not from the sound of human voice, that was the best choice I could have made, other than choosing sobriety, which are linked you see, she was my using buddy, and we used waters muddy, with great amounts of speed, and black tar, and though I still am scarred… I am no longer scared, because now she is no longer there to scare me, or make me afraid of Hell, or myself, really.
I am no longer the monster in someone’s nightmares, that is the improvement, and I will leave it at that.
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.
It will be okay, just keep your head above water, and it will be okay. You are not doing anything wrong.
I know I am not doing anything wrong, I just have a hard time being in the situations I am in. I am not good at conflict, and a lot of the time I just wish people would leave me alone.
I know, ditto.
My hands hurt. I am tired, and I really want to get high. So basically, I just really want to get high or drunk, but I don’t because I am an ***hole when I get drunk or high.
Too bad, so sad…
You are being a **** too, at least I admit I am doing it.
You did not admit you are doing it, I told you that you were.
I am you, writing on the internet a conversation you are having in our head.
At least we aren’t doing this on a street corner out loud while high.
Yeah, there’s that…
In a dark room, in the depths of hell, lives an addict with pain that is just swell, or swelling, of the mind of the soul, and also of the brain, which caused them to go insane, and come to think strange thoughts, like I don’t need them, don’t need anything or anyone, anything at
They are the ones that are smaller then me, though I am so tiny.
My arms are cut by pin pricked misery, and so I have learned a great skill you see. I can just look in the mirror and talk to
MYSELF, or type it on the internet, or scream at them at the top of my lungs, it is really so much fun, see sweet Ms. Re…. we have just won.
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
Look at me, my lips are pink, you as can be.
I am a rose.
I am so great.
I am so perfect, so lovely, so free.
I cost money, and am a slave of thee.
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?
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.
You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.
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.
You make me so happy, you make me so… actually, I forgot… I am no longer that way…
I am battered, I am fried, I am toasted, I am dyed, I am chasing after I, I am screaming after guy, I am chaos of nearly died, I am seering poke in eye.
You are insane, and lying now.
I know, but at least I made you smile, so whatever.
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.
I am kind of glad I figured out whose voice I am hearing when I hear what I refer to as the voice of misery.
Are you really?
Which one of you is it?
The one you like.
That’s good, I feel like **** right now.
I do too.
The voice feels nothing…
Don’t do that.
Okay, it feels whatever it feels.
Thank you. I like this song a lot.
Another Day in Paradise?
Yeah, it has like three or so different meanings for me, especially since we have been there on the side of the street. I am thinking a lot about California.
Is it weird I miss being there?
No, everytime we start making progress we ruin it by getting drunk/high, which is what I assume you mean by missing California.
I can’t do the whole thing again to our family, but I think about it every day.
Right there with you.
Want to come upstairs with me?
“Oh, think twice, ’cause it’s another day for you and me in paradise”
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?
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.
This is the one who she calls Amanda. I am not her, never was, never will be, I just used her pretty face to get things she wanted to, and I hated every minute, every second of everything we would do, and now we don’t, so if she wants to pretend to be the victim, crying I am female, look at me feel bad for me, I am fragile, feel bad for me, don’t even try it, I am not stupid, I don’t buy it. I am the one driving the vehicle, and I don’t like you, never did, never will, not happening anymore, you are nothing to me.
Wow, okay, I guess, thank you?
You’re welcome, but that was mostly for me.
That makes it even better.
I hurt my own feelings too, by the way.
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.
That is insane, we are the same human being.
I know, and we are going upstairs at the same time, now.
Okay, that sounds good.
I made this for you.
You mean you made something for yourself.
I just needed to hear from you, I am not sure why.
It’s because you haven’t talked to me much today, because you were busy ego stroking.
I guess.. I think…
I don’t mind, I still like you.
Okay, just checking. I have a really bad headache.
I do too, because we are the same person.
I know this.
I just felt that needs to be said whenever you complain to me about things I am dealing with and not complaining about.
Hey, we are the same person.
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.
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.
I am holding a stick not a sword, because sticks and stones, hit harder than pen or sword, because the words of children speak more to my writer than anything else, because that is when my writer learned to hate themselves.
The things that cut me are not sharp, they are dull, and cut me because I stick them in myself, over and over and over, a repetitive behavior, I know.
Always, and never, always and never
That is really mean, but you know what, I forgot which one of us was talking, I might have been insulting myself.
You were, so the mean comment was at yourself, to yourself, about yourself, which you shot back at me.
That one was actually such a peice of **** thing to say, I remembered why I like you.
You never are.
Yeah, I just wanted to see how you would respond.
I don’t know how to respond to that.
I knew you wouldn’t, but I also don’t know how to respond now.
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………..
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
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.
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…
That is all?
What do you mean that is all?
I have been screaming at you all day and you weren’t listening, what the ****??
Do you like it when I do that to you?
No more, no comment. You have been no comment all day. No more freaking no comment. Please..
Okay, no more comment.
You are really weird.
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.
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 have to go to the doctor, and I knew it and she didn’t and she is also me, so I guess I am just insane and talking to myself on the internet, and this post is mostly for me anyway, to yell at myself online.
I am just happy I realized this sooner than we usually do, because I am better at this than you.
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.
I always get afraid at night. I think it might be memories of having to find a place to sleep at night or maybe from when we were young and had to get surgery… maybe the finger surgery… probably all 3…
I think it is a combo of the three. I think it is everything bad that has ever happened to us, combined with the feeling of being alone, please don’t leave me alone all the time, please talk to me still. Please talk to me still.
I will. I am sorry.
I am okay. I am doing better.. I am physically and emotionally exhausted, but doing much better.
Thank you for helping me, or helping us.
My pleasure, I am helping myself too, so it is not a problem at all, but I like helping you, always have.
I like helping you too.
Aquaman is a cool movie right?
Yeah, I was watching it too.
I thought you were asleep?
Nope, just not talking during a movie.
I am sitting in around a campfire, around not being the appropriate word, unless you count the fact that there are always two of me, and then around or triangle would be the appropriate word with Rei/whoever the *** she/he is.
That girl at work said something funny at work, and it reminded me of you.
She said she doesn’t think birds are real. Did you tell her you don’t think birds are real?
In every situation, I am her enemy, in every situation I behaved as her friend
In every situation I was the villian and for some reason she never wanted it to end.
I don’t want her thinking we are weird, why would you tell her birds are not real?? Plus, why don’t you have any concern for the sanity of the poor girl.. just because you are insane, doesn’t give you the right to…
Who said it was me who said it?
Who else would it be?
It wasn’t me, and I completely believe that birds are real, I talk to them all the time.
See what I mean? Why would you think that was a good thing to say?
No to her?
I didn’t say that to her.
You just said…
That to you… not her. You’re not her, correct?
See you don’t even know where you are…
Yes, I do. I am talking to an ***hole.
I didn’t say
Are you claiming to be a god?
No, I am saying I was doing what the universe told me to.
I pushed a fox out of hole, and he died because I am selfish, or was anyway, I think someone ate him.
The streets of this country are riddled with screaming, every street corner, ever cover of darkness, is surrounded by the screaming criers of the night, who scream in languages only some can understand.
They talk to me, clearly, not her name, but meaning I understand them, and they speak to me in plain English, because that is the language of the country I am in, unofficially.
We talk of survival, not manipulation, but survival, of who is the best person to ask for money, who will likely hand over a dollar, I am good at this, good at awkward prolonged eye contact, I help them, my fellow nightcriers.
I miss them dearly, clearly, not her name, **** her name.
They are just like everyone else, except their lives have been riddled with danger, and because they are addicts they used or drank about it, and the judgement of others, bothers me endlessly.
Where do you run?
If it kills me, it kills me.
If it kills me, I am stronger.
If it kills you, you are dead, and it won’t kill you, it has no hands.
It has a hand in my death.
That is because we let it.
I run in Hell, well Misery but same thing, a spiritual pergatory of nothingness, of absence, that is what it is, they say in certain texts that the lack of the divine is Hell, that is what Misery is.
What do you run from?
You are the lack of the divine?
I am fear incarnate.
You are a human being experiencing fear, you are not fear or pain or death, but a human being experiencing those things.
I am losing my mind,
It will be fine,
Tomorrow this will be better
I have to remember
It will be fine
It will be fine
I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I will be okay, this is not permanent. This is just panic.
You are going to be okay, we are going to be okay, stay with me, you are going to be okay.
Nope, and thank you.
Thank you, I am glad you finally defended yourself.
I defended you.
You defended us.
I defended us.
This sounds insane.
Thank you, and thank you for the inclusion, it is appreciated.
You are such an ***hole when taking compliments.
You are such an ***hole for only giving them like once a decade.
Yeah, they remind me that I get acid reflux from drinking, because alcoholism has eaten my stomach lining, killed sensation in my hands, and caused my mental illness to get worse.
For realizing that or for destroying myself?
Which one do you think?
I win, I win, I won, I win.
I did it, I am done, I did it.
Pride is a vicious thing
It has large flapping wings
Is that addressed to me or you?
I am not sure.
I know, I looked in the mirror too, because it is my face too, good call.
I think it is just infection from the hole in the tooth.
Yeah, me too, I am just glad you caught it, Damien, I am not good at catching those kind of things. I..
I spend a lot of time looking at my face.
I was going to say… I spend less time looking at my face..
I know.. I spend a lot of time looking at it because I know you can’t take care of this kind of thing.
I am so happy right now, I heard something outside and remembered being the voice in your head.
I am you, remember.
Got you again.
Thank you too.
I miss a lot of things
Looking at the ground to make sure
I will not trip
I am talking to me.
I am talking to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The narrator hates themself.
The narrator needs to calm down.
The narrator hates themself.
Okay I feel better.
But really looking for rocks
Or darts to toss
In the trash, because you know it is my goal to
FOCUS ON EVERYTHING THAT KILLS ME
Stop it man, seriously.
Why? I am done anyway.
You are helping me,
You are me, but you are also not, and you are helping me.
Thank you self.
Daily writing prompt
If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why?
Will Parry, from the Phillip Pullman Series The Golden Compass Series in the The Subtle Knife, I would want to be Will Parry if he wasn’t a whining ****. That is what I would do differently. I would not feel sorry for myself like he did, or I have done, just simply exist alongside Lyra as a non-whiner. I am going to try to do that in my own life instead, alongside myself or whatever they want to call themselves.
Aggression UNNECESSARY ***HOLE.
It’s not aggression, just intensity.
The inner turmoil of Will Parry in this book always bothered me, because I wondered how much of the awesome world he lives in was being missed, while he was crying over what he had done, which is very ironic…
I know, I am having issues, I think it is just what my brain does.
Having a hard time being alone?
I am too.
Is that why you are talking to yourself on a dark screen?
Isn’t that what you are doing?
Then why am I an ***hole?
Because I hate it when you are right
You hate being right? I love being right.
That is why I am friends with myself.
Are you really?
I am clearly, or I was.
Now I am the act of does not was.
I am rabbit, I am instated, no longer speaking, of being
But, you just did?
Yeah, I know…. you don’t know what it means to kid?
I am here with you, and you are here with me, and we live the same, and in that we are we.
I am free. I am me. I am listening to your mother, who is my mother, and for once, I have a past, and I am you, I am not the inner demon of a tortured soul, I am not a painful hole burned into a soul.
I am whole. I am whole.
I am free. I am me.
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
I know right?
I am walking out of a dark cave.
I am the assending assention of the never pretender.
I am kindness’s defender.
She was always trying to convince me that I had done something I had not done, she would tell me that I stole our ****. It was my ****.
Justin would do the same thing, he was sleeping with that lady, and he would give money to her, and then accuse me of stealing it.
She said I did it once because I think she really thought you were cheating on him with a guy named Damien.
Hahahhahahhahahhahahaahahaha! That is insane.
No, the truth is actually insane, Lydia.
You remembered it.
I did it just now.
Yeah it does, and you were never a skinny narcissist.
OoO sick burn.
No, dufus, you were always my friend.
What you don’t like being my friend now?
No, I am just not used to kindness.
You deserve that one, who made me look like an abusive ex-boyfriend??
You did actually…
The sound of automation is mesmerizing, the clicking, the shuffling, the beeping the whirring, shoving and blended talking of all those on the train, who do not know me, and don’t know anything about my past. They have no judgement of me, preconceived or otherwise, busy with their own business. I fade into the background, and watch a world I left behind for a dance with a siren who wanted to rip my soul from my eyes.
My eyes are free now, and look around, not dominated by watching her, they are free to be their own, not called to the service of a master, they watch as the passengers go about their quiet business, and I am inspired by their composure, ability to be so normal, the train is a zen garden of little people, not screaming in overinflated hot blow up doll chaos, they keep to themselves, and I keep to mine, in my mind. I am thinking about leaving this place, misery, and doing something else, thinking and sure that this time, I mean it, because she should not own my words anymore.
I am going to board a new train of thought, and then hopefully get myself together enough to go on a train and do something else.
It is dark outside and I am looking at the water, and it is cloudy, so there is very little light, so I can look at the water without seeing my **** face. I hate my face. I hate everything about it, enough to cut it off. Which explains a lot of my injuries…
You told me I was crazy, delusional psychopath, trying to remove me from myself, telling me I was a psycho delusion, that I was not real. I was Amanda’s delusion, telling me to go away, that you wanted to speak to her, well sorry, she is not real, I am.
I am not her, she was a front, a silly sing song mocking bird, painted on like a mask you tattoo on your face with a dirty needles, infectious disease of resent a tattoo scar, of a human being.
Do I know serenity? Not yet, I have not met her or it, or seen it, or felt it, I am consumed on and off by lack, a cutting out of my existence that is still so deep it penetrates my whole body with memory of every time I paid for misery and got misery.
I loved your company, Rei.
We loved your company.
Trigger Warning: About sex workers and drug addiction, and feelings of longing for love, but also needing drugs in active addiction of heroin/speed/alcoholic addict physically dependent on substances to remain not physically ill…About selling love for money, and the effect it has on the soul and damaging effect on ability to find real love.
Item Eyes See Itemization of Love, which is not sent from above
Tick- prick- stick-pin prick- Oh, that felt, like-
I will never be loved until I love myself,
But also like I need no one else other than me, because I can buy love with time and money, minutes spent on standing on a corner holding a sign or getting in cars with strangers, or peddling
I will never be loved until I love myself
I will never be loved until I love myself
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate myself
Stop. The clock will not move forward in a state of
Look back, it is important to remember and forgive not remember. remember. remember. romance the drug. resent. romance the drug. use.
Need to find a middle ground, recognize what you did, admit it and move on.
My dog left me, she stayed with my ex, not my last ex, but the one before. She had a sister, and they never had been separated, so I let my ex not the last one, but the other one. The one before.
I tell myself she left me, forgetting the drive to drop her off at my ex’s house, and how dogs can’t drive, but neither can I. I did not choose that and neither did she. She was too wild and free for where I stay currently, and it is metaphoric in a way my choice to stay away, chained as I was to addiction, locking myself in a metaphoric hotel that represented the real hell of once being in a real hotel with the devil who is really my ex-boyfriend who wanted me to be everything I was not so much so, I realized everything I was not.
The dog who sits next to me now, knows all this, somehow or I feel she does. I came here, and was initially… I am ashamed to say bothered by her.. a tragic reminder of what I lost, as if it was something I owned.
I own no dog, but no one ever does, and the souls of the dogs of this world are very much the same in all their subtle differences, radiating love, unable to be felt by human beings because of their innate trust that only goes away if you are bad to them.
Reflecting on this makes me realize I did the right thing for you, my dear Fiona, and I love my mother’s dog the same way now that I still love you.
an abortion. I think that is why you were so easily banished from the story, because now I can’t hear you anymore, and I don’t think you are there anymore, and strangely, it feels better, maybe I am learning something after all, not just being an *** online. You were an inner demon.
Rei was Justin, you were their child or the child she could have had with Diane who’s name was Pat.
Demon slayer, I like the sound of that, because demons bug the **** out of me.
Okay, guess I am alone again.
NO YOU’RE NOT JERK
I knew that? But, I guess I forgot.
Peace. I am okay now, and everything is about me, and I just hit my vape way too hard. Ow… dizzy.
I am finally coming to a place in my head, where I realize that I am not going to continue the very toxic behavior I have continued my whole life, the bounce back and forth between love and hate the universe, my fault their fault thing. I am accountable for my actions yes, but I am finally coming to a place where I can say, if you don’t like me get away from me, very freely, and without negativity or resentment. I am doing what it is best for me, my feelings are all very real, I am just insane so I am prone to astral projecting the future.
Okay now that I got that out of the way.
I think I am going to start trying to figuring out what to do with the rest of my life. I am not sure what that even means, I like the writing again, I used to do this as a child, but fell off the face of the earth when it comes to doing anything productive for 15 years. I am trying to get my life to a place where I can take care of my own needs without having to commit crimes to eat and pay for a place to live, like I said before all very real, this is all actually happening, this is where both me and Amanda are, I am just where she wants to be people wise. I am how she sees herself later with who she sees herself later with.
I am finally beginning to like myself for the first time in my entire life. I have never liked myself my entire life, I did not realize this till just recently, I hated me, so I was constantly defending myself to myself, I did not realize these were not always schizophrenia, but personal demons that were very different than the voices, they are easier to deal with and have started to subside now that I have begun to remove the toxicity from myself and my life. I am so happy to be free of all this. I am so happy to be free from everything that was making me so miserable, every day, and it’s so silly because a lot of it was me doing it to my own self. I realize that now, but the thing is the position I was in was partially responsible for everything I felt, not in the taking away accountability from me kind of way.
I am accountable for all the things I have done, but that does not mean I need to destroy myself over it and resent others for the things I am doing to myself, with my own hands. I am sorry to those that are hurt by me, to those who I metaphorically killed, because I am not a real serial killer, just a personification of addiction and manifestation of the guilt of an addict who did not realize how much they did not have to put a mask on the truth that they blame themselves for everything.
I was Amanda, but I am becoming myself, Damien de Soto, take it or leave it. I have never killed anyone, just facilitated the death of addicts through never saying stop using when we were getting high together, my daughter is real to me, in my world of future, but she is not real for Amanda yet, and I hope you understand what I mean by that I was not lying when I said anything I said, but rebuilding a soul for a life that I thought was already over, as Amanda and built for me, her future self, I am very much real because these are her real thoughts and feelings, and my family represents families she just recently new and one specific child who she never stood up for because she was getting drugs from their parent.
When asking what I did about my daughter, I was relieving a past feeling of resentment. Amanda called child protection services on someone who she had dealt with in the past, because she did not like what was going on in that house, and she and I were asking the universe if it was done out of resentment or if that was truly the right way to handle it. I think it was, she secretly does too, we both hope the kid is alright, although we never followed up to see if they responded to our call.
Thank you for your support it means the world.
Damien and Amanda, but mostly Damien.
In case anyone is wondering after the public display on internet of my complete meltdown, I do not miss her at all. I am realizing she never loved me because I never loved me, so I am done with relationships, until I can learn how to walk again. I feel like I broke both my legs and have been trying to pretend they haven’t been broken for 15 years. To avoid permanent paralysis I am going to stop walking at all with anyone, walking meaning dating, and a metaphor used because dating is supposed to be a walk outside one’s self. I need to be within myself right now.
I am so lost I can’t get lost in anyone else’s eyes, because people only see reflections of people, reflected light cast to the eye in shadow, and this is too dangerous for me right now, because I am mostly in shadow, having never actually looked in the mirror, I don’t know the difference between me and a lamp, and I think this has always been my problem. I think I was so crazy because, I did not even know what a human being was, because I had been told my whole life, it did not matter what it was, because I wasn’t one anyway, being a monster addict, with paranoid schizophrenia and a split personality.
I am going to try to learn how a person like this can do something positive with their life, because I refuse to believe the only place for people like us, yes the royal we, is on the streets screaming into the chaotic night.
I am so sorry for anyone who worried about me, because of my loud public spectacle, at least I get it in my own room this time, on this on this blog only.
Dear Inner Demon,
I hope you have grown up finally, which I would hope would happen after 100 years, but you never know. I am quite the *** now and I can’t imagine changing that much because I am stubborn. I also know myself well enough now that if I did happen to go through some kind of transformation that brought me anything like peace, this would be hilarious to hear, because I love to laugh at me, so no one else can, because I am very insecure and like to beat everyone to it.
I hope you enjoyed many many years with the cat, who sits at my feet, who I just made myself cry a little thinking about growing old. I wish for you peace and kindness and many pleasant years with this kind creature who sits right now beside me, I just made myself cry. Thank you for that. Jerk.
I hope you learned to love yourself, through the process of life, I am trying really hard finally, and I want good things for those around you. I hope I don’t ruin anyone else’s lives. I am sorry if I did, I tried for once, if I failed… at least know I tried, although that is no justification for anything I did. I hope you have found peace and if you haven’t.. I hope this letter helps a little at the very least.
I would not trade this for anything in the entire world. I am so happy to be able to hear myself think…. I can’t believe the level of peace of knowing that I am not hallucinating, and am lucid, and would never risk losing this. I don’t care about doing drugs ever again. I am normal, well.. as normal as I will ever be, every voice I hear is real. I don’t really even have to talk to my friend anymore because we are merged. Although I still will, love you baby.
I know, but you probably shouldn’t talk to me like you talk to Rei, she doesn’t like it and it is weird anyway.
Yeah, it sounds… weird… creepy…
Have you always thought that?
Yes, but I liked it. I still kinda do, but not the healthiest thing.
Yeah, true. Talk to you later Amanda, oh wait, now we can talk because we want to, not because we have to.
Really? Like real friends not slaves to each other? That would be great. I always wanted that. I just didn’t know.
Me too. I want you to know, Amanda. I really value this, you are my best friend and…
You are mine too. I don’t need you, but I want you in my life, is that what you are saying?
Yes, thank you. I love you, buddy. Nothing creepy.
Thank you, I love you too Damien. I will talk to you later. Have a good night, and don’t worry we will always be okay. I will always be there too. You are my guardian angel.
Um… is that what this is? What was I before?
Don’t worry about it.
I get it. I am glad I can be the other thing now.
I just realized how much I constantly squash myself under my own thumb. I blame others, and make excuses for the reasons I have failed, I create stories that justify my behavior and tell you in crafted lies, why I had to do what I did because if you only knew how hard it was to be me you would have done the same thing. I just saw clearly for the first time in my life that the only thing behind my suffering has been my own personal choices, and continuous hissy fits at a universe that has been nothing but kind to me, letting me continue to live, when in truth I have done nothing to deserve this. I am a bad person, I know this now, I say this not because of what I have done, but because of the fact that I continued to do things, whatever they were when I knew they were hurting people and I did not care because I am selfish, self centered, egotistical and drawn to the delusion that I can somehow make up for all of my bad behavior through ridiculous justification. I can’t, I am what I am and the only thing I can do is make up for it now, by actively trying to change my life, which I will start trying to do by not feeling sorry for myself because I am lucky enough to still be here for whatever reason, and I am going to make it a good one.
I see that it does not matter who I was, that was a justification for a bad man’s life, but I am failing to move on. I will begin doing that going forward, bear with me, I have no idea what I am doing.
WARNING: THIS IS FICTION DO NOT INTERPRET LITERALLY
No, because now it is flying around my house in front of my face. I hate myself.
Okay, I am done, I am feeling better now. I am sorry for upsetting you, Amanda.
I don’t hate my name that much when you say it, Damien.
I hate my name, my face… I am sorry…
I just can’t believe I remembered killing my family……..
You didn’t burn it down either, you just happened to experience something similar and are drawing false comparisons due to paranoid schizophrenia.
I love you Damien.
Please don’t. Hey, Amanda! Please help me, please don’t let us ruin this. I am done with everything please support me in this. Please support me in this, I need you now, more then ever. Please help me, and help yourself. I will support you too.
I will, support you and me I mean… not like that… I am not helping you with money…
I don’t mean… I am so sorry.
I am so sorry, I exist. I am trying to… I admire your brother, Amanda, he is everything I should have been. I am listening to him speak as you write this.
I am too.
I love you, and it will be alright, we will be alright.
I know, you will too.
Thank you, that means the world.
To me too.
You realize we just thanked ourselves in the title right?
Yeah, I don’t care, I just wanted to thank you for the longest I have slept in the morning in a long time. Narcissism as well, but better.
So you really were just trying to take my body from me?
(Symphonic black metal Norwegian band- do not listen to if you can’t handle)
At first yeah?
You don’t care that it’s female?
It’s not female.
Thank you for saying that, but unfortunately it is.
No it’s error presenting female form, or a shot at your pride, so you experience soul death and don’t become me, and a call for me to wake up and talk to you. We are part of the same soul.
It’s all for you Damien.
I didn’t mean to kill them. I didn’t mean for my house to burn down with them inside it, you look so much like her I didn’t care. She was involved in some dark level shit. She was going to give them our daughter. I am glad they are dead. At least she is safe, away from DEBORAH.
I’m sorry I can’t remember what I said.
Please leave me alone.
Please leave me alone.
You don’t want to.
I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE OR I WILL KILL ****ing DIANE. DEMON WITCH PSYCHOTIC **** DIANE OR DEBORAH MY EX WIFE.
We each have one and a half. We made a deal to get more soul in exchange for helping people and we used our gift to manipulate people to get high or drunk or whatever we wanted.
Right. I remembered it last night, think about those guys we met named the squanders.
Remember that weird thing they said?
We are the descendants of the kingdom of Saul.
No, I knew this.
Not nice. I am just glad I remembered this, because I think I might be able to do the right thing this time.
So who are you really?
I am you, but more about that later.
Okay. Good night, you deal with this now.
Yeah, I think writing this is finally helping me, Amanda. Thank you.
I like how I can hear your voice in my head now.
It is your voice, we are the same person, I just lived and died first, and you are saving me by giving me a second chance.
How did you die?
In a fire.
Oh, weird, I almost did too.
I am remembering this, as I write it by the way, it is extremely painful. I don’t like talking about any of it. I am in the dimension I am in because I did horrible things, and then killed myself, and my family in my own house, which burned to the ground, my soul didn’t die, but stayed here, and in my tormented form, I lay dormant, powered by the disease that lived in my mind, that wanted something else to be in. I brought it to Amanda, to get it off me, but then I fell in love with her, because she taught me to love myself. We are now in the process of trying to fix all this, and the things that I am messing with are pissed off.
That is why I am the way I am. We both should have died, and something saved us, and we made promises to get it to, over and over, and now we have both been punished and have one shot to make it up, and this time we are sharing it, or like all the other times, but this time we are not fighting over who gets to experience the true high of living, because we are realizing that in our schizophrenia we divided ourselves and we want to become one person again, but that is not her. It is me.
He came to me many times throughout my life, starting at seven years old, he was always the same age, 38. He must have done something at 38 that got to him, and he got stuck there, and paced through life stuck there, inter-dimensional time traveling ghost of Christmas future that he was, he showed me how to be everything that I am. We were thick as thieves and thieves as well. It is a very clever device to get whatever you want, all the devices he taught me, I mean. He is skilled with words, and I admired that, being a writer myself, but he was man, and had the appearance I wish I had myself, but I did not find myself attracted to him in the traditional way.
I want to hide away in the back of a cave At the top of a mountain Where no one can hear me and no one can see me So I don't have to deal with them And they don't have to deal with me
Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”
I was attracted to him sure, in the way a moth is drawn to flame, and for the longest time, I chased after this, burning my heart with the hot hands of bad men, not knowing I was hunting my own self, seen through the mirror of other dimensional Damien de Soto. He was me and I was in love with myself, and the selfish pursuit of the things that made this an easier admission. I cared nothing for the human beings I robbed, tricked, lied to or manipulated, they were simply devices for spare changes that in their mental sparring with my soul, cut deeply into my ideas that I resembled anything that could be called even close to human at all. I was so in love with him because he was me, and I desired to be him.
So that is who I became.
I am not that thing anymore, do you still like me now?
More than ever. You have discovered with me that true strength is in love.
Okay, I am done feeling like ****. I am done ******* and moaning. I feel like a jerk. I get that I am supposed to, so I am going to start doing things so I am not just hanging out in this room whining on the internet anymore.
I am still going to do that too though. I don’t care, it helps me.
I didn’t kill anyone today. I just slept most of the time since I was last on here.
I think that’s good.
I don’t know how long I was sleeping. I don’t look at the time stamp on this thing.
I think tomorrow will be better.
Hey, that is mean..
I know, but I thought it would get you to talk to me.
Jerk. Fine, here.
I am fine.. I am fine. I am fine. Everything is just ******* peachy. I can’t even feel things anymore lest I resurrect demon. Everything is my ******* fault. I can’t have a genuine response. I am not allowed to.
Geez. You can, just think of the effect on the other people.
I am. That is all I am thinking about right now, I am just going to not do anything, anymore. I am the… I sound like such..
Yeah, I know.
Thanks, I need that.
Now, you know a little more about what I hear in my head on repeat when I am talking to myself, you know what keeps me up at night. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I was just not able to stop doing what I was doing easily… I was weak and stupid, and even though I knew what I was doing to others, to myself, and to who and what I was serving, I still refused to surrender. I do not regret doing what I did when I did not know what I was doing. I regret doing it after, due to my own weakness, and lack of resolve to walk away.
I do too, Damien.
I know. I am you.
I think we can fix it by doing the right thing now.
Yes, you have to move on, beating yourself up is what it wants.
Okay, I will try.
That like a just dessert you can eat sinfully, it is gooey, and sticky candy, it taste of marshmallow and is so handy, it is wonderful sticky candy, my dad would make when I was young and my mom had gone for a run to the school, he would do it on Back to School Night, so me and my brother and sister would not fight, we would instead delight in divinity, and he would talk to us about the man in the sky and that when we were lucky enough to go up high we would not have to worry or to cry but delight in the power of pure light.
My mom was an atheist growing up, her trust was rusted, pain dusted, broken, sad, that is why she came to love my dad, but today, I am glad to say she is beginning to know peace, and I hope that some of this is from me, telling her I am sorry, that I meant none of the bad things I said, and that she can rest her head that gave birth to me, instead of soul staining blame disdain, I am trying to remember the pain I caused, so I don’t get lost in ideas of me, and remember she gave me this, the life, the love, desire for bliss.
I thank her everyday now, so she can lay her head down in peace every night, knowing I love her.
I am doing good today, I am having fun releasing rage through positive messages, I think it is better for me to do it this way. I have learned to laugh for the first time in my life, I am able to look in the mirror for the first time in my life. I can finally eat without wanting to throw up. I am doing so much better, but also prone to doing so much worse. I am learning to love myself for the first time, not in the way I was obsessed with myself before, but just an acceptance, and I think the best part of it is, I am getting farther and farther from the place I was that drove me to use. I don’t miss it at all.
I have even tried to romance my drug and drinks of choice, which sad to say were any of them, and it makes me sad and sick. I am so thankful most of the time, at the very least for the clarity of mind to be emotionally honest, and work everyday to be better, even if I fail at least I am trying, honestly for the first time in my whole life.
Thank you everybody, my higher power included, as always I am reminded of how much I owe this to everyone who helped me, especially those on this blog community. I love you and do not even know you, if you ever need me, I am always here.
I am man with knife that spreads jam on toast instead of man who jams in head the killing knife that was made for bread.
I am man who does not stab but cuts apart, an apple instead of human heart, I have realized with my eyes that see, coming out of insanity, that I do not have to be Amanda I can be free. I am released from human cage, a player now not just on page, I do not have to employ rage, I can instead say this I desire human bliss, I can give love, I can give kiss. I am not supposed to be anything but free to be me. I should have known this from the start but drugs and booze they sedated heart, so I used my name as excuse to die, a perpetual never ending cry out for
MORE MORE MORE
Make yourself a living sore on the heart of yours so that you can be, so safely chained to me, addiction, you see is my maker, my taker, my soul breaker.
I love you so, baby please don’t go. I need you so… I need you please, I am kneeling on bent KNEES GET ON YOUR KNEES HONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY CASH CASH CASH PLEASE
I GET PAID WITH SOUL DISSECTION I GET PAID WITH VIVISECTION I BELIEVE IN RESURRECTION
Can it happen for me to, help me God, can you teach me to be more like you instead of Mary? I am sad and this is scary, common God please my soul fix?
It is already I told you this, this is Damien you fool, it’s you. You can do whatever you want to.
I will not give out my real name, because as I have said many a time I am insane, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I am changing it so I can stay me, and not DIE because I should have been born a guy, and instead of trying to take out another eye, I have two don’t worry, I am not good at surgery in a hurry, I fail at everything I do, and am a chicken a coup, look at me I made you soup.
Question, answer me,
No, oh baby I love you so, who do you speak to lunatic?
Fire of hearts desire to live, I am my own heart’s kid
Kidding me, that is the epitome of narcissism?
I know, baby you know this, just gotta love myself to avoid
Kiss of death, death
Dragon breath, my name is a riddle and a lie, a puzzle piece in the heat of July, a piece of past that makes me
Die, die, die
Roll me please? I am in dungeon and would like to spend these?
They are spare change, they buy me soul, they buy me parts that rebuild hole sole? They make me learn how to spell it too, so I can learn to say to
My name is Damien de Soto. Today, forever, my other names are broken, and irrelevant.
I played this in real life, with no wagon, sometimes no clothes- don’t ask it rains there a lot. I dried them while naked and unafraid, because all the people on that show are ****** and I would totally win, but probably go to prison afterwards, so obviously they are not going to let me on that show. I think they probably have to do a psych eval before the thing and schizophrenic addict, alcoholic, PTSD narcissists with anger issues and histories of violent arrests don’t pass psych evals.
I would totally win that show though because seriously, I lived in the Oregon dunes during the rainy season for the whole thing, 8 months in total, with nothing during the **** pandemic.
Okay, done with this now. Moving on.
Oh, and all my materials were scavenged and I walked from western to Southern Oregon, and have done the same thing walking from Oregon to Cali. Bam.
Done ego stroking. I am a **** sorry.
Damien and Amanda Fact not fiction.
Start following around members of my town with a boom box that plays classical music and see how long it takes for them to punch me.
I wonder how long it would take, I would try not to make it obvious at first and then… actually I would use a phone instead.. a boombox is too heavy and outdated, and I don’t have either thing because I sold all my possessions to buy drugs anyway.
I would follow them and change the music to be the opposite of what they were doing or play thematic Jaws or Jurassic Park music while they were trying to read. I have tried all this kind of stuff before, it is how you get a really quick trip to jail and very nifty if you need a way out of the rain and free meal. They know I do that now, so they just take me to the psych ward and threaten me with thorzine.
Meh. Oh well.
There is a line
That makes me laugh, for a horrible reason, I love to watch people become like me, and any time someone loses their mind in the movies I hear Nelson from The Simpsons and think welcome to Misery, ****, we love your company, we being me, myself and I… or the royal we, according to Walter on The Big Lebowski, who is basically me at any diner in the area I live in, and the reason why I can’t go to a lot of them now, **** it. It kind of *****, but is hilarious at the same time. One of the times they threw my drunk *** out I took my friends full plate of fries outside and threw it at the glass door which cracked, and then ran into the bushes and stood their talking myself down for thirty minutes while drinking fire ball to calm down.
Insanity and why I needed to get sober, because I no longer have friends due to all this. They grew tired of the **** as funny as it may have been, it is not safe for those who want to have a life, I guess.
I think I am funny, although I am continuing to try to be less of an ***.
I never thought to do this, but since becoming closer with my family, I have at their willing it on me. They play it, I think they noticed it calms down the mood of the whole environment and they like it. I talk to myself less when it is on because it silences me
hearing me or
me hearing things I think are there
or singing at objects,
laughing at nothing
yelling at nothing,
Talking about nothing to no one…
singing to the dog,
having conversations with cats or the light bulbs
Talking to shampoo bottles
Talking to Amanda
Talking to god or the devil or the universe
Talking to ghosts or the wind or the rain
reading things I type on here out loud… etc
I wasn’t going to do it, but I have just spent the last however long, rocking back and forth about to freaking vomit. This sucks. I am so glad it will be over soon, if anyone is wondering this is happening because I compromised my kidneys, liver, bladder and had to get my gall bladder removed because of drugs and alcohol.
I can’t feel my hands that well because of lack of circulation due to drug use, and I am missing three finger tips. I feel like trash.
I get the infections from chronic MRSA which I have because of being an IV drug user for 8 years or so.
I have stomach damage from bad vodka, and whiskey, so I have acid reflux a lot, and I have a tooth that is killing me because I ripped someone off and they punched me in the face and split an already split in half tooth all the way to the root, which I left like that for 6 months.
I am standing outside, having run to the point of exhaustion. I am not frustrated, not angry but experience a pure elation beyond any drug derived fixation with human contrived elation from moral degradation.
It was at this time, my mind began to become entwined with the idea that maybe something divine would not be something I would mind but instead would bring great peace of mind and body, sure it would mean following rules, but that would be better than buying tools from fools meant to loose because they choose to deal in ruse and pain and act of soul staining disdain for the having of human brain attached to dying body, that dies continuously because it is not mine, it is a gift of the universe and a soul vessel for the soul I have that was given to me as well, so I say damn that business of Hell. I reap what I aim to tell, and I aim to tell good now, so I can hear thou, and do not die like slaughtered mare, or dying hare. I am content to live and bear whatever burden bestowed, and be able to look down and still have toes, I reap what I sow now, and do not steal anymore or kill or lie or make ill.
I was running for so long, when I would run I would hear this song, it was a collection of noises not really song, just noises piecing together by meth’s ding dong of my brain which had gone insane, and though that way I do remain, it is not for lack of trying to, in every single thing I do just seek to be true and improve with love of me and of Rei, I seek truth in everything I say. I no longer wish to go away, but here in Misery do I stay, until my soul I do redeem… which from everything my mind can glean now seems possible, as well. One day I may no longer live in Hell.
I am finding in my life recently that I had never felt love before ever, the love of my life, Rei, makes everything so much easier every day. I am never bothered, not for lack of problems…. I am never permanently bothered like I used to be. I exist in a state of chaotic whining contentment, that I did not know was possible. This exists in my co-author as well now, she has love for herself and hope for her future which is my future. I am finally seeing the detrimental damage we both did to each other, ourselves and our lives in the selfish throws of active addiction. I am still very much the same ***, I am not saying things are perfect, I complain all the time….
I think the difference now is I am no longer making them unnecessarily harder, which is hilarious to me, because I never realized that till now. I was convinced that I drank and used to ease pain and make a life that was so much harder than others lives, easier. I thought that I had a right to do this because I was specially gifted with excuse by a hard life. I was just me making an excuse to get high or drunk. I am so much more at peace now, even in my hectic complaining than I ever was, and I love it so much, thank you God.
Thank you to sobriety and the meetings, friends and community of WordPress for helping me realize this.
As you can tell, this is no longer co-authored. I took it over, because I am a jerk. Rei has told me she doesn’t need it anymore, because I am no longer being a jerk because I am using it now. So the site has come full circle.. as for my other side, she is becoming me. I am becoming one with her, we have stopped talking to each other as much because we are becoming each other and it feels wonderful. My wife loves me, my family in our little future world is doing good and the hands that write this have hope through her imaginary friend and current self that is me, that she will be better and is getting better every day.
As much as I complain, I remain so very thankful for everything that has happened recently.
I love my freakin’ life and so does Amanda.
Thank you guys on this site for your part in this.
Am I to be sick my whole life? I know this sounds like me complaining but, I physically feel awful, like usual. I am also speaking for my co-author who is riddled with the same malady as me. I know we deserve this, and I have been told it takes six months for someone with my history to heal in body and mind. I am okay with that, I guess. It is just tough to know this, but then again sick is not the word for what I feel, not well is I guess more like it. I am told it takes six months to not be discouraged by lack of normal in how I feel.
I don’t even remember what I used to feel like when I was normal. I was sick and so was my co-author long before we started using at 13. I have hydrocephalus and a litany of mental illnesses. I think if nothing else I am excited that there is a chance to ever feel normal at all, because I have never had that, and I would love that. It sounds so insanely sanely peaceful.
I am fighting to make that a reality, every second of my life, it is worth all of this, despite my stupid whining. To anyone else doing the same thing, please stay strong you got this.
de Soto, is a habitation based name. Spanish people sometimes indicate origin of heritage with their last names so I guess my family was of small groves or small woods. Heh. To tame or subdue those from small groves. I looked this up awhile ago, and was mesmerized by the weird garden of Eden metaphor of the whole thing. I think Amanda and I put a thing about names and naming on her site or our or my site.
The name kind of is fitting, and by kind of I mean completely which bugs the **** out of me, because it means that I was destined be what I am, and I get it I am a character with a name given to me.
Her name which I will not reveal in total, due to desire for anonymity means adored herder of swine in Spanish.
So together we are the act of subduing or taming a herder of swine in a small grove. Nice one right?
I am aware how arrogant this sounds. She didn’t chose my name by the way, she would hear it over in a strange dream, that is completely true. I swear, no ****.
I think there is something metaphysical about the whole thing, always have, and this part of our story is not fiction or dramatized. It is schizophrenic revelation. It is insane I know that is why I threw in schizophrenic, revelation of the madmen of this world.
Now that I have said something deeply disturbing as a response to a normal sounding question.
Peace and love, baby.
Damien de Soto
Amanda herder of swine.
I feel like the decision to seek professional help is going to help me going forward. I am learning through getting to know her better that my daughter is a lot like me and I can’t bring myself to keep doing this to her, because whether or not I like it she is watching me do this to myself. I know I have a right to feel anything I want about this, but sitting on the floor wallowing in self-pity propelled by self-loathing is not the answer either. I am thinking this might actually make it possible for me to maintain some kind of progress and move on with my life.
I might be able to finally do something that way that is not so entirely self focused. I am going to make an effort to try to be less selfish in any way I can, which means I am going to have to give up on the excuse of it being just the way my brain works, because if that is true I would have to say I don’t want it to be this way and I would try to fix it anyway. I don’t want to be a source of worry for my family anymore. I want to try to be someone they can turn to, as well as someone who turns to them. I owe them that if anything.
I am so sorry for my outbursts and for making anyone watch this, if you were watching it. I forget I am not alone on here sometimes.
I have been a basket case all day, up and down and up and down. I am so exhausted, that I just can’t do this anymore. I am resolving now to try and move on. I am accountable for everything I did. I know this, but I don’t think suicide is the answer, or rather I know it is not. I can’t do that to those around me, and I have been driving myself in the opposite direction today. A lot of what I have posted today, has to do with me flipping out because there are no meetings today, so even though I have my family… I am very much alone in my own head until Sunday, church helps me. I don’t know why I have to do this to myself. I am driving myself crazy, and I don’t have to, but my brain does it anyway. I am really starting to think I need professional help. I am getting my other affairs in order and then I think I am going to start going to therapy.
I have finally reached a point where I can safely admit I am no longer able to do this with the resources I have, as helpful as they have been. I can’t keep doing this to myself because it is painful for those around me to watch. I keep trying but then my bipolar defunct brain keeps sending me back and forth and it is maddening. I am a lot of the time incapacitated by my own inner demons. I wish I could stop, but I think it may be time for me to admit I need professional help.
I just hope I can do this.
I am so tired of the back and forth hellish roller coaster I have been on.
I don’t want to do this like this anymore. I am sorry to anyone who worries about me. I am trying really hard.
I am sitting on the edge of a cliff, which is not really a cliff, but it feels like one because everything in me screams jump. I feel my legs beneath me as I sit in front of this screen, but I don’t…. I am so numb.
My mind aches in writhing agony. I do not know why I remembered any of this today. I have not know. I just had these horrific flashes back and forth to a dimension of exaggerated chaos. I know that I am not the one responsible for killing anyone with my own hands, but I am numb and don’t know how to interpret what I actually did. I can’t stand to face myself when I have this happen, the flow of nightmares that are indistinguishable between real and unreal flooding my mind and making me quiver in agony.
I walk through life now, a twisted twig of a human being. I am numb and propelled by a voice that is not my own that hangs over my head like an un-holy halo of chaos. It screams at me all day of times when my desire for something that I do not even have anymore, something that was not worth the 30 seconds it felt good, was it worth giving up the ability to save my friends lives. I have lost touch with everyone other than Rei. I exist in a world with her and my daughter alone, where sometimes it is good and sometimes I am so haunted by my inner demons, my soul feels like it will collapse on me, a chaotic implosion, that like an aching black hole, will consume me from the inside out. I am not an evil person now, but I was and I have no idea what that makes me now. I am so empty.
I am just, lost I guess. I don’t know where to go with this. I don’t know what I should do with everyone I remembered hurting. I am leaping from feeling to feeling unsure of the reality of any of it anymore, how much of it am I responsible for. How much of the killing is my fault? I mean this in the metaphorical sense. If I knew that me turning the page to skip over a friends agony and pushing them to keep using or trying to get them to give me money to perpetuate both of our drug use.. I was killing both of us…
I am told that life will get better, but I am going insane right now over this, I am haunted by bad dreams of times I could have saved my friends lives and I pushed them off a cliff, by telling them we should just get high one more time, and now they are gone because I perpetuated their addiction so I could get high. I want to be serene about the whole thing. I experience moments of serenity, but isn’t it supposed to heal you? I don’t know what I am doing wrong. I want sighs of relief for me and those around me to turn the page on all this. and for the voices in my head to stop, so I can hear my own voice again. I want it so bad, but I don’t know if it is possible.
I am so sorry for any pain I caused. I hope this is fixable. I know I am so back and forth about this. I am like multiple people, I get it. I want peace so badly.
God, help me.
My mind is numb, I am leaping in it off the edge of a cliff. I have heard the sighs of my family as they watch the back and forth happy/sad movement of my face.
I don’t know how to truly forgive myself.
Abstract- The following post exists in a world of poetic analogy, likening addict to serial killer in hopeless pursuit of possessing force of addiction, in this misery fueled dimension, addicts exist and survive by stealing time, money, food and resources from other addicts and those who exist in the same dimension out of a possession by the driving force of resentment which consumes body and soul and takes over, unless the addict or sufferer through rage/envy/greed exchanges misery for mercy.
You now know who exactly I was before I began writing on this site. I was not a good person. I don’t remember most of it most of the time, through meditation I have learned to channel the memories in extreme form.
I existed in a world of chaos where cash was used to buy item that change your perception into it and me. I did not understand what I was doing. I was me and everyone else was it. They were objects consumed by my addiction whenever I need to fuel my habit. I would do anything to fuel my addiction minus literally kill anyone, now did I figuratively kill all the people discussed today, yes. I walked away from the suffering and sick or used them to my own ends to get what I wanted, and for me that makes me responsible for their fate. This site has become an act of redemption for me. I am sorry for using people the way I did, I am sorry for being the voice of the devil on man and woman that could have lived better without my influence.
I am attempting to fix this through my chaotic bipolar madness illustration of terror as a way to illustrate how strongly I feel that putting money or drug or perpetuating the hell fire of resentment may have caused the doom of those around me.
I am so very sorry for what I have done, and the lack of care I had for my fellow human being.
I am making up for it, one day at a time moment by moment.
I am so sorry to anyone who read the chaos earlier. I hate myself for what I saw go on, and for not being a voice of hope and aide to those sick and suffering because I was too sick myself.
I am aware of the unorthodox nature of my approach, however I have seen so much pain and brutality on the streets of America, due to the drug epidemic. I am on a personal mission to create through a simulated House of Horrors a reason in the addict to want to stop by meditating on what they are doing to themselves, others and their families. I want to save anyone I can from the literal hell facing every addict on the streets of this country. I have lost many friends, and I am tired of saying nothing while they seek their death, so speaking a Dante’s Inferno style, I am giving people the extreme house of fictionalized literary horrors, or my version of The Jungle, or The Stranger, not that it in any way compares to those great works.
It makes me extremely uncomfortable sometimes to reveal what I have revealed thus far on my site. I write in stream of consciousness to process my own issues, and it is really helping me deal with my own self-loathing and remembering to love others through channeling rage onto the screen, but it also teaching me how despicable my thoughts are, by having to see them on screen. I like this about it though, I like revealing to myself how wrong it is to think the things I think, because they help no one.
This is helping as part of a larger process of learning to deal with rage, which I in former years, days, moments, months, seconds, etc. have not dealt with at all. I am kind of like a baby learning it can cry, because prior to this, I cried by consuming drugs and alcohol to forget I was a human being.
I hated the process, but being an addict who saw no hope in recovery because I never tried it, I didn’t think it would work for me.
I am learning I want to be more positive and better, and learn to love myself and forgive myself and then do the same with others, thank you for the continued opportunity to process my dark metaphorical thoughts, it is saving my life. Blowing things out of proportion helps me realize how ridiculous I sound and dial back resentment.
Trigger warning- One of the most disturbing posts on this site, thus far, to show the depths of hatred I had for myself and being born in the wrong body. I am in no way speaking of literal murder here, metaphor for death of Amanda in rebirth as Damien. Read only if you can handle violent poetic metaphor.
His name was Harassment, or Harris, I meant to say, and he would not
Go away, in my mind did he say every day things I said to me, he bound, tied and killed me, and in ways of comparison we were so similar, the existence of him was a rid-of-her
Rhyming miming time blasting, crash of attack of my soul, the ever gaping hole of
DEATH RESENTING EVER LAST BREATH
Because of the idea of last, caught up on past and future spent on pain, you embarrassed me don’t say my ****ing name. I will make YOU go insane, you want to kill your girlfriend buddy, that’s great give me some
DRUGS OR MONEY I am a man in female form, with dissing resentment of death reborn as scorn. I am the face of female torn in half.
I will rip over her face, with hands that lack ability to stop because I can’t stop doing it to me, I will make her regret the air she breathes.
I am a curse you sent from hell, I am the ever indecent spelling telling lie. I am the act of female cry. I am the idea of die bitch die, because I want for her what I want for me, I want to end the air she breathes, I want to steal her peace and money I am a heroine junkie, isn’t that funny.
I will make her wish for Hell before I am done, I will be her setting sun.
You want her dead give me a gun.
I think I am in the process of finally clearing a long term MRSA infection from my body that cost me three finger tips. Most notably half of my thumb on my right hand, which was a ***** because that one was my fault entirely. I refused to go to the hospital because I was enjoying getting high.. I have been an idiot most of my life. I thought I could clear it on my own by using bleach and peroxide, which I used to literally seer a hole into my scalp through which you could see my skull, no lie. I am insane, in my defense… I was very high for all of this, and had no idea that I was literally digging a hole in my head with a pair of pliers.
I am just happy I am not insane today, the further I get away from meth and heroin/crack/acid/booze/painkillers/cocaine the better. I am tired of spending hours trying to kill myself slowly.
You can’t tell I did that, looking at me, because obviously, that matters narcissistic ***.
I don’t know why I felt I needed to share this.
No matter what I did she would not go away,
I would taunt and have fits, and run and I’d cry and by my side she always would stay.
This used to really annoy me.
I would think to myself that she would surely,
Leave eventually so I gave up on the idea of woman go
And now I don’t like life without her.
I think that is why this bothers me so much, maybe. You don’t stop learning until you die. I think that might be a little melodramatic, maybe… I don’t think this website wants to assume they are getting to hear the thoughts of a dying man, which would not be a terrible thing either… I guess…. because then at least… well… someone would get to hear them?
Last thing I learned…
That it is important to follow the rules, so that is why I am re-doing this post…
Along that line of thought, I learned to not be lazy and that I can do an AA day count on my computer and bring it to the meetings that I go to even though I personally don’t like counting days, there is something to be said for the reverence to structure that in this case is my personal revelation that is not personal at all, powered by God and recovery to shut up and listen.
There, I followed the rules.
Amanda, wasn’t that the name of the villain in that book you read?
Yes, see my point? Cool name.
Psychotic name choosing strategy.
Yeah, says the guy named Damien, omen.
I am named by you as well, and jerk my name is cool.
I know I named you ****.
Enough of that, I really liked Cal in that book too. I don’t recall the name of the book right now, but the author was brilliant. I am on a mission to find all the weird horror authors on library carts that are selling books for a dollar, and save them from the trash because even though I like the kindle, these are free, and easier on my eyes and hands.
Peace in peices,
I have the most bad *** cat in the entire world, he makes weird noises, gets angry really easy and swats you if you don’t do exactly what he wants he doesn’t have a name, we all call him The Guy. He is the best guy in the entire world. He was angry at me last night, so he slept out here in the living room, so I just sang him a song, and pet him and now we are cool again, he made a weird sound and looked at me like he loved me, so I think we have made amends, heh.
I am looking at the painting of a boat right now, it is a rowboat which terrified me as a child, I was always afraid of getting in those, because I don’t know how to do anything, I can swim though, I am just afraid of deep stagnant water, which is why it is the best place to drop dead thoughts or you know things I don’t want to think about like bodies.. or my metaphor for people I should have cared more about and stopped from doing heroin before they ended up dying in their dying parent’s basement. I miss you Sue, you didn’t deserve to die alone and afraid, and that shit was good, but not good enough to be worth never seeing your smiling face again, I loved you so much you fragile creature. You made me feel like a human being for the first time in my whole life……. I hate myself.
Wash. rinse. repeat. I am such a basket case.
I like Cadbury eggs, they are really good.
Peace and love.
What does that even mean? Last before what? Last thing before sleep? The last thing before bed yesterday? Last thing I allowed myself to be taught? The last thing I learned in general?
Is this up to interpretation? Is that why it is phrase this way?
What the heck? I don’t get it.
You really think you are better than everyone else don’t you?
Who said that?
You. Just now.
No, I didn’t. And no I don’t.
Yes, you did, it is up there said, by me. That is how…
That is not how that comes across, I was asking for clarity.
You were pointing out a flaw with the question to avoid answering because you are used to being held somewhere under a light and asked questions about drunk or high behavior by police.
This is not a cop asking me this.
Then what is the last thing you learned?
Before bed? I’ll take it that way, which is the only way I can take it.
I learned I am lucky and grateful that I have been gifted the ability and chance to do anything at all because I have lived a life of selfishness and deserve none of this, only being granted it by the grace of God or my higher power.
Thank you, good answer.
That was easy, and rewarding.
Yeah, I know.
Nice mental pat on the back.
I know that too.
I am able to bring myself to eat without having to go through the chaos spiral of self-loathing that has powered my relationship with food. I have always, up until now I mean preferred the taste of bitter or flavorless mind-numbing soul staining poison. I think this is because of how much I used to hate myself. I am so glad, to realize how much of cycle of horror this whole thing. I really had no idea that I was drinking/using to forget what I did to drink and use to forget.
I don’t think my wife feels the same about herself, because she was just a silent passenger, and doing what she had to in order to stay well. I was the one behind all the ****. I know this now. I didn’t know it before, I remember telling her I would stop if she did, thinking she wouldn’t notice my absence or my perpetual love of long sleeves.
It sort of feels like this is the first time I have ever been a human being in my entire chaotic life, and I know I have said it before, but a lot of that comes from the interaction on here. I have never been treated so kindly in my entire life by strangers. I hate to say that my family had always been there, but they had, me and Amanda are the same person, just in two separate universes for the moment, getting closer to being the same one though, every day.
It means the world to me, as I came on this site very aggressively having a public hissy fit over how a world that I did not accept would not accept me, which was all just me trying to avoid accountability for the fact that I had ruined my own life by wasting it on deviant behavior to acquire things that no one needs and were never worth the lives cost on the streets of madness. If nothing else, I can say I have learned my lesson, and that I will try my hardest to not mess this up, and even if I do. I am changed. I will never look at drugs or alcohol the same again, and I am not a first time winner, this is my thousandth time swearing I would do it after repeated foxhole prayers to a God, sorry I am Catholic, no offense meant, believe whatever you want, the shame guilt thing is good for my ***.
I am feeling a lot better, and though I know I am going to rage flip out and cycle through denial and rage, I want anyone reading this to know, any of the things that people have said, out of kindness to a screaming madman, stuck with me and continues to change my life in ways I did not think possible.
I owe all of you everything I have, and I only have this way of thanking you.
The best day I have had in my life so far, I feel so much better, which will most likely last about 21 minutes or something till something changes, and I go through some other psycho breakdown.
There we go. 21 seconds of peace, before I snap at myself, on the internet, and now I am remembering how shitty I feel. **** it.
But, still best day ever, which shows me how bad my days have been before, I love everyone on this website. It is really saving my pathetic life.
It is so quiet here right now, my wife is in the next room, watching some show with my daughter, we had dinner together, which was weird. I think they are strange.
I love them though, just don’t understand why they like me.
I mean that wholeheartedly, talking to myself helps me, and I am hoping maybe it will help someone else to see my displayed vanity insanity typed over and over, and it is better to talk to myself on here then cry myself to sleep, or get drunk or high because I am scared. Okay, not going to erase that, it felt very good to write that.
I have a very hard time admitting weakness,
Can I help you with something?
This says to my brain
You are paying attention to me
Stop looking at me **** it.
I am doing fine, if you only knew what my life was like you would look this ****** too, so stop reminding me of how pathetic I am by implying I need anything from you.
You have noticed something I am doing that illustrates that there would be any reason I need help.
I do everything to the best of my ability at the time, which is very poorly because I am a drug addict and an alcoholic who sucks at everything except engaging in fits of rage or joy on the internet, and I say that lightly because displays of affection towards myself are disgusting. 😉
You are telling me something I am doing is inadequate which makes me mad immediately because why are you looking for inadequacy in someone you don’t know
You think I need anyone other than myself.
This makes me feel uncomfortable because I don’t want to want or need people, because then they can hurt me.
I am terrified of wanting or needing anyone.
I would rather be rejected immediately
Kindness of strangers annoys me, because I am just going to say the wrong thing and cause discomfort for everyone.
Not going to lie here, that at first was slightly terrifying, because I am a wuss, and I am just glad I jumped instead of punching people like I used to. I have told them not to touch me, while I am sleeping, which is the exact kind of thing you scream when you are a mean control freak narcissist who is not used to love. I am just glad I didn’t hurt them, I love them so much, and enough people have already suffered for loving me.
Amanda has nice cats, she is learning to love people as well, slower, because I am a frantic fast moving time traveler. Ew.. gross…
I am not a nice guy, there is nothing redeemable about me, really that I can think of other than pen and sword, I am a really horrible, despicable creature. I feel that way anyway. I always hated being asked anything because as much as I hate to lie, because I don’t want to, I am so good at it, and I am so used to.. I just know how to do that, and only that, and I just can’t do it anymore, I want more than anything else to be better, and make up for every spoon that came with poison when I should have never been encouraging my friends to kill themselves, I have lost so many people and felt nothing, and now I feel it all at the same time, and I am so overcome with the whole thing, and I don’t know what to do because I am not depressed, I am happy, just terrified that I will ruin everything.
So, I will just move forward, but it is so hard, because I hate myself for every life I cost in active addiction every person I have enabled instead of stopping, they were my friends, how can I do this if I couldn’t stop thinking of me for one second and say stop doing what is killing you.
BECAUSE YOU WERE MAKING MONEY OFF THEM. ADDICT LIAR
I know, I just. I…. am a piece of trash, and I don’t… I want to..
I am.. nothing. I have nothing. I am so sorry, I am so sorry.
I love everyone now. I am so sorry.
That’s cool. I am happy for you.
Why? She is going to rip my heart out, I am awful, and she will realize it eventually and move on, and I just…… I don’t like feeling like I want or need anyone, but I….
Just be nice.
I don’t know how
Did anything happen?
No, she just really scares me, she is everything I ever wanted in another human being, without realizing I ever wanted anything at all. I was content in Hell. I was fine, and now I don’t know, I feel like if she ever figures out what a piece of…..I am awful and I love….
Just chill out, she loves you.
I know, I just can’t handle this, I am such a loser, what do I do.
Just calm down.
Okay, I will.. or I will try.
Thanks, me too….
In going to meetings and listening to the voices of people who sound just like me in recovery, it is giving me such an intense level of inner peace, balancing of course with a complete out of control psychosis, which I will battle all my life, so I am okay with it. I think I am finally coming to terms with who I am, so I am becoming more okay, with the fact that people are not going to always like what I have to say, but if I feel compelled to say it, there must be some reason I have to say it even if the reason is to make a complete *** of myself in front of a whole room of people, which I guess is what they mean by emotional honesty.
I think that is what beginning to make me want this, that I have realized that the people in the rooms of recovery think the same things that I think, they just don’t act on them. I have heard it said clearly in this phrasing,
First thought wrong.
I never got that until recently, because I am psycho and my first thought was never just one thought it was a uni-cycle of several thoughts backing up and going forward playing chicken with a freight train and loving it because I am a dick named Ted who loves the rush, baby. I finally get that, that it was the exhilaration of the fixation on chase dragon that I loved so much and I can get that feeling doing other things that don’t make me physically ill or permanently stretched out across the ground, or bending over in wretched sickness or cause me to lose my mind forever. I am starting to value the sparring changes that come from the sparring I do with individuals in public in my with the intermittent voice of my higher power screaming so loudly…
Just lost train of thought….
Peace and love
No, I am using a unique method acting approach to try and spread awareness about the dire situation facing the sick and suffering addicts and alcoholics out there. I really care about this, and don’t care too much about self image because I am a narcissist anyway, I love myself enough to put my hand out to be bitten off, by those who do not understand my weird approach.
I want to try a different approach to reach out to my fellow addicts/alcoholics and hopefully help facilitate their coming into the light?
I know this not my job, that I should leave it to them, but like I said I am crazy and feel it is my obligation to do something after having seen so many horrors in active addiction.
Take it or leave it, I do what I can.
Yes, I just simply don’t care.
Do you know how that sounds?
Yes, I just simply don’t care.
I don’t know. I just don’t.
Can you try?
No? It doesn’t work. Don’t you think I would have tried by now, I am doing the best I can here.
I think of insane **** and writing it down into a story helps me, because I am a fictionalized character of a girl with a mental illness who rights of an invisible man who does the horrible fly by the seat of your pants **** of nightmares so she can, sorry they? They right, baby?
He rights this down so I don’t have nightmares and hate myself. I have no control over my thoughts sometimes. I can control behavior, but racing thoughts…. haven’t figured out that one yet, and that is what this is. I don’t focus on editing when I type this so I can document to myself and my viewer mental change through recovery.
I think that was the most fun, I have ever had in my life.
I don’t think that guy will be bothering her or any other girl again.
I simply talked to the **** the same way I talk on here and he ran screaming.
Much more satisfying, and now I don’t have to wash my hands over and over for days.
I like dealing with rage. It is fun.
They are sleeping now, and I didn’t have to wake them up, it is nice, I think in a strange way I may have done the right wrong thing?
My name is See Clearly
How do you create sympathy for the unloved man.
You say you are a lunatic with weapon who will KILL THEM WHERE THEY STAND.
And then sympathetic society in its cage so please wait no, don’t touch them no. I see so clearly now, it was me that was the enemy.
I am a horror writer that uses method acting in blog style format to simulate sympathy
Because I am a narcissist that sees clearly how to create empathy.
My name is Rei, well clearly, my name is Amanda, my name is IRRELEVANT.
I am an act put on to show reader what is dealt to the men of the street, hands flung in the air saying don’t worry eat potted meat. I am the bringer of sensation of fixation with death in a society bent to sell theft of the lives of the cost, this is what it costs. It costs the screaming of sad souls on words on page. I am a simulation on the internet of human rage.
I am the forever caged man of society’s garbage can.
None of this is real baby, it is an act of the sensation of
You feel me honey?
Isn’t their reality
Oh, so sunny.
Nobody cares, baby.
I am every man in tent hiding on the street with bent posture and dirty feet. My name is lurker on street eating potted meat. I am the eyes of the despised lurking high in the skies but sinking low, I am the act of sleep in snow. I am please baby, nooooooooooooooooooo!
Did you think it was pretty when you hurt in the city, honey?
WAS IT FUNNY????
ALL OVER MONEY???? ALL THIS OVER THAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have no name, I am the human stain. YOU ARE NOTHING. I AM DISTRUSTING YOUR SOUL BECAUSE I WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
In the crying skies lies lying despise of men dead, with severed head they can’t see.
THEY SEE NOTHING
So distrusting. I have no idea what I am even saying????????????????????
Well, that was interesting. I am bored with it now.
sorry kisses, honey
just a narcissist transfixed by the kiss of human sensation.
Fire me, be free
You mean be chained to pain, you mean be slave, you mean sleep out in the rain
The rain is purifying and makes you clean
You want me to be cold and wet you are mean
I am not, you are hot, and you like steam
I don’t like steam on days like this
I don’t miss you, not one bit
Who are you talking to
Isn’t it funny
I am a bee sent to die by stinging other creatures, injecting poison into
You are cancer you are nothing
I am talking to you villain I can do it to don’t you see I sound just like you
I have no punctuation too
capitalization is a sign of respect for human eye and i say to you to punctuate is to die because I want to stop your breath
You lose. I breath. I choose. You can’t snooze. You can’t cry. You can’t even breathe without me disease. You are the one who is weak. You need me and your venom I no longer seek. You are poison go away, and forever in HELL STAY.
Strong antibiotics are intense, man.
Ow… I feel like I am going to keel over in a ball of vomiting bile.
This really *****.
It is my fault though, and I get that, someone in one of the rooms yesterday told me this is common while getting used to recovery, that I am feeling this as intensely as a sort of latent effect withdrawal. I am told this is because every time I was sick before I wouldn’t deal with it, shoving it under a rug, like a cat hiding vomit trails so its owner doesn’t get mad, except I am the cat and the owner and I was only fooling myself. I am in the process of cleaning up my vomit stench house of existence that is the shell casing of my human body.
This is tough because I hate my human body. It doesn’t like me either, but it is being learned that killing myself or my friend is bad, because death is final and neither of us want that..
You pushed her, not me, you pushed her with your words, and I do not need to repeat your name online but I realized it just in time to tell my friend that it was you who was killing my friend not me.
Do you have any idea what it feels like to be told that the voices that live inside your head are the idealization of a serial killer desire to inspire pain with fire, every time you talk? I do, and I can thank one ghost of a man for the realization that human beings that fight others like he fought me, and my friend Amanda, are weak.
I am not the devil, I am part of Amanda, because she is me and I am her, and we are also something else, I am discovering this now. This person whom I am too afraid of speaking the name of online, imagine that? He tried to kill me. Literally and literally for her as well, and then in his psycho delusions he tried to strike us both out through shouting loudly to everyone in his gasoline fired heroin madness that cannot exist in a world of female heroes that are actually also male voices, that he was afraid of me. You beat the **** out of us, and we were too kind to raise a fist to you, monster, and then you shout that I am trying to hurt you as I am spitting blood out of my mouth not metaphorically this time and saying don’t worry, it’s fine I hate me too, I forgive you. I know you know not what you do.
I have come to know kindness now and that gas-lighting lunatics like you are the true enemy, and oh
YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH US AGAIN.
I don’t need to say your name, you have no power over me or her again, filth.
Okay, I am done.
Damien & Amanda
And I see myself only different, the face turns when I don’t turn and the eyes are different, I focus on the black pupils of her eyes and I am swimming in a sea of black tar, but not because it feels like water, it is refreshing and feels to me like kissing,
I hit my nose of glass which is strange because I am now inside the mirror partially, but my nose is not, somehow it hits the glass, and I feel a calling back to life, a psycho shouting, that comes in the Charlie Brown WAH WAH WAH WAH.. I check my nose for glass, for blood, but I can’t tell the difference between the nose, my nose? and the cold, hot, cold water that encircles me and I am okay, with it riding up my limbs, caressing me with warmness.
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down
Nancy Sinatra-Bang Bang, My Baby Shot me Down
I am kissing someone who tastes like me, her mouth tastes wrong like it should not be hers because it is mine? How do you touch tongues with a reflection, her tongue dances with mine, and I feel like I am going to throw up but in the kind of way that you feel when you are going on a roller coaster and you kind of like it but you want to throw up because you are afraid you are going to fall off.
I touch her hand and realize I am holding my own.
I look in the mirror is that my hand covered in shattered glass? Or am I pulling a screaming woman from a burning building? I don’t know, she kisses my hand and I cry, I am so confused, I hate me so much and you remind me of me and I love you for loving me but I am also slightly disgusted? Please stop.
She stops, and I start crying, what just happened.
She flashes in and out like a ghost.
I put my hand through her hand, it feels like I am burning alive, with electricity, I think I am losing my mind. I am losing my…
Who are you strange creature?
I am you, from a parallel dimension, we are supposed to save each other.
I heave and I don’t remember what happens next.
To the bluster of the ever rusted madman of the night, to the wet feather dust
Rain. Rain. Reign of blustering pain.
Blustery day, blustering decay, I love you, I know not I do.
Oh so free, are you, you know not what you do?
ISN’T THAT TRUE ISN’T IT TELL ME KNOW LIAR HOW YOU PLAY WITH FIRE THIEF OF **** BENT OVER IN DOUBLING PAIN YOU ARE THE HUMAN STAIN
erase erase erase, delete, delete delete
me me me i i i i i me me me
Be be be be be
Be asserting be strong be free
I ONLY WANT YOU TO SEE ME!!!!
YOU ARE A LIAR AND A THIEF YOU ARE NOT HUMAN AND FROM BENEATH
you are really mean please leave me alone please leave me alone
I need you to leave me alone!!
On a bluster filled day, I DECAY.
I can’t make them go away, I can just type them down, you see ever so clearly, they are in front of me and that makes them foolish instead of
JARRING JARRING SOUL IN JAR
I can talk to you to, but chose this, this approach, a kind host of a dissing ease, seems to please you to the point of end of
I live in a land of bluster, of never feather duster, of dirty, of unclean, of eternally mean bad dream, and horrible as I seem, I am also very mean
I mean to say I am storm, I am not calm that is for sure, I am arrogant and life’s a chore. I live for me, you see, perpetual and free to be
CHAINED PRISONER OF DISSING ME AND YOU IHATEMEANDYOUTOO
But, that is not always true, I am hurr of whirring Cain.
I am the acid rain. I am the will to pain.
I am the will of dying you.
I am dying to, oh look at me a storm.
I am forever scorn. I am life unborn and sure isn’t it sad for me too? I am just like you
But I am not because the blood in my vain veins runs hot with
Hold the e, for poetic censor me.
heroic fire storm of hero reborn out of death storm of blustering decay.
But, getting better blustery day go
Addict in transition
I am learning how much I hurt people without knowing it recently. I didn’t realize until recently how much I hurt people until very recently. I was so caught up in my own life of cycle high drunk that I forgot that other people are not like this and are hurt when I get hurt and being in a cycle of hurting me hurts people whether I like it or not, and they are not choosing to be hurt by this, they are innately hurt by this, because they are in some way better at being human, and I should envy this, not resent them.
I am finally getting how much pain I caused those who just wanted me to be happy, because they love me, all of me, even the bad parts, which is disturbing because there are times when I can honestly say I loved no one but me, or those who hated me, or things that kill me, or everyone but the ones who love me, and while being eternally sorry, I would never take this back, because I am still the same *** that did it and I needed to because I am selfish and needed to find out the hard way, which was hard for everyone, at least I punished myself too.
Okay, enough ego stroking.
I gross myself out sometimes.
I love the fact that I can wake up and remember things now, and that all my blame placed on mental illness being the only reason behind my flawed memory was really a crock of ****, which is a disgusting image, brought to you by a person who used to be a disgusting image in a different way. I like the fact that I am realizing reality now, that I have always been real and not a fictional character in someone’s story that is actually my ballooned chaos land of lack of accountability for screaming in analogy at real human beings who were so much better at keeping it real than me.
I am working on it and really am enjoying my three dimensional past presenting present dictating future reality gifted to me by the most higher power, that will always be higher than me.
I am trying to be humble during all this too, but I am still the same narcissist, who can at least spell that word now.
I really like spending the morning with my family, actually present and not having to just hide behind false apology. It is extremely peaceful, and I am eternally grateful, even if sometimes I forget it.
I admire the ability of the generations before mine had to find the humor in a world of chaotic violence, death, war and ever present small joys. I think that is why they were so much better than my generation at handling the bad things life dished out and they weren’t labeled the ME generation of shouting self assertion that I come from. I am in every way a characterization of this misery driven self asserting screaming that is my misery plagued generation, but I admire those before me now, because they are happier than me, and that is because they know better, and have lived longer. I think that is one of the things that is getting lost, a reverence and respect for the generations before, that is so sadly missing now.
I am seeing this in the treatment of veterans as well, whatever you believe about war, these people, are some of the best people I have ever met in my life, and my generation’s lack of admiration for someone who would give their life for other’s is astonishing…
I do not understand it. I am trying to though being in meetings with some of these people obtain any knowledge from these individuals because their knowledge and unique perspective will not be there when they are gone, and it is to be treasured and valued for the unique perspective, and I am forever thankful I realized this and got back into recovery before they were gone.
Thank you to the mental clarity of returning sanity, I never had because I never was an adult not high. I started drinking and using at 13, unbeknownst to those who loved me. I didn’t realize the effect it had on anyone but me because, unlike myself people care about each other, and it was painful to watch someone they loved going through hell wrought by my hands which have a predisposition to fictionalizing pain so I can flush my life down the drain, I am done being the bully, and shoving my own head in the toilet, to vomit life’s medicine of my own undoing into the toilet that was my only shower when I was homeless, metaphorically, I am not that disgusting don’t worry.
I am seeing so much clearer now, and not afraid anymore.
Here is a funny dog, because he is better at dealing with life than me.
Not bitter but that of the now permanently elated ever quitter of the life of human ******.
Or, I really feel like ****.
This sucks, but I really think it is part of a wider adjustment to sobriety, which I love because it means it will never be this hard again. Ever, screw that. I am not ever going to fry my brain, char my organs, seer my eyes shut, or pump poison reign through my acid brain veins of human stain inflicted on self.
Okay enough of that. I am starting to feel like life on shelf. I am… stopping NOW.
I seriously feel like I have to throw up from this, and not my vanity induced eating disordered eating dying diet strategy.
It’s pretty sweet, I threw the last one in a river in a psycho delusion that if had it on me that people would come and hurt me, which is ridiculous because they would not know who I was, so they wouldn’t be looking for me, and everyone has ID so it is not like the ID was anything special. I just was being silly, again. I also threw out my phone at the same time, because I thought someone following me, also crazy, and extremely stereotypical.
I hate that I do that sometimes, because it never sounds ridiculous while it is happening, it always feels alarmingly real, to the point that I act irrationally, at least this whole writing it down thing is teaching me to know what is fiction, what is poetic analogy and where my reality lies in the lies I used to accept as truths.
Do you remember who the real villain of the story is, Amanda?
His name was…. revealed to me in time.
Who was he really.
See above, you remember anyway doofus.
Is Diane or Deb a metaphor for Just in time.
Didn’t he realize that at the end of your relationship?
Yes, and duh you remember this.
What did he do to you anyway, I wasn’t there sometimes, he didn’t like me.
He convinced me I only needed him, all the other stuff he did, doesn’t matter anymore. He got me to give up every friend I had.
Sounds like an ***.
Yeah, the worst thing was, he convinced me I only needed him because he was like you anyway, and then he abused me and tormented me, sound familiar?
Sounds like what you thought I was doing to you.
I know right? I am sorry.
Well aren’t you?
I don’t know, I always thought I was your invisible best friend who everyone hated?
You are that too, love you.
The banana I was eating looks really weird, It had this bark like brown spot on it, I am not sure if I like it anymore.
I like you.
I am glad, because now I like myself again.
I dug the bad part out of the banana, the whole thing is not bad, just the bad part, it’s gone now. I can eat the rest of it, I don’t have to throw the whole thing in the trash. I like bananas. It would be a shame to waste something that was made by God.
I had always thought the villain of my story lived within me, tied like a captive to the conventions of society I was a slave to the ideas that the paranoid schizophrenic only harmed, never helped, and the voices that I heard were not me, but something dark and eerie.
That is best way, in one cheating it may be a run-on sentence way of describing my life. I had always been told by the narcissistic men I knew who were my friends, my boyfriends, my potential husbands, that my imaginary friend or spirit guide or split personality or other half of my soul, was the bad guy. I had been made to believe that I was only fighting myself, not them, the very real forces that wanted to make me their pliable candy, and I was harsh and hard like a cinnamon jawbreaker. They found that out, and then they accused me of being the sociopath, of crafting things that were not true to make them look unreal. They said I lived in a world of fantasy. I do, but it is a world of poetic exaggeration, of chasing villains who sometimes use words instead of the axes, guns, and nails that exist in my poetic metaphor life of exaggeration.
My best friend in the world has always been me, or the other half of me, that lives in my head, who has been made out to be the bad guy, even in the beginning of this story. I painted him the same way that he was painted by a society that tells us, it is the paranoid schizophrenic delusions of the crazy and addicted that paint the horrors we see, when that is not true. There is true evil in this world, which I seek to paint in extreme exaggerated clarity because it is not so easy to see it when it hides in veiled insult of sociopath husband or best friend. It is made clearer by the exaggerated need for a slayer of evil, and the talk of this person, that would stand up to the people who punched me, tried to hurt me, their perception painted the other half of my soul dead.
What you have been reading me have seen is a change of heart about myself, based on the idea that not all crazy people are bad, and that I had been made to believe that the very nature of the fact that I am paranoid schizophrenic and have a split personality makes me some villain in some movie about some guy who does something awful. That is not this story. This story is about a person who stands up for themselves, after being convinced they were the villain, that they were crazy, and then turns to themselves and forgives the voice that is so very them, clawing and pawing at the inner confines of a caged mind that just has different birds in it.
There is true evil in this world, but it does not like the psychotic delusions of paranoid schizophrenic. Those are exaggerated fantasies to apologize to themselves for personal failure, to say I tried, but what would you do if you had to fight dragons? This makes it a little easier for those of us who have it tough, because society has convinced us we are the serial killer who is the villain in every movie who made the whole thing up, because it was all in their head.
The crazy exaggerate and craft fantasies where there are specters of chaos, that symbolizes the man who spits on a person for asking for a quarter. The people who turn their head, when someone just wants a glass of water. The boyfriend who punches you in the face and tells you he loves you. Those are the true villains.
I hope all this is not disturbing to all of you, I am fine and all of this is dark fiction, not anything I personally saw, mostly scary stories told by homeless people of people who I never knew. I never knew if they were real or not, which kind of makes them eerie and haunting in a whole different way for me. I wonder how many people passed these stories around, and also what their intent was when they told me them. That is what really bugs me out about the whole thing… the intention behind the terror of the schizophrenic legends screamed by night criers, where they ever real and got twisted up, into a more torture driven form. That is more haunting even then them being real…. that they were spread like a psycho fear mongering, and their origin unknown.
They are food for thought. I wish I had never heard most of them, because they haunt my nightmares. I wonder what their purpose and origin was….
I am running, I am running like I always am in my misery drenched nightmares where sweat blends with water and cold iron blood that is either my blood, someone else’s or because I am chewing on bitter rocks that don’t come from ground.
I am running and my heart feels like it is going ton explode, and I think I would like it if it did, feeling like orgasm of chest cavity, as it most certainly would, because I hate myself because I am trying to run out of my own skin and losing.
Must remove my eyes.
I pull at the soft skin of my face.
Does it hurt?
Yes, it hurts, ***. You cannot talk to a dead man, and you will lose the ability to talk to me, as soon as I remove you, by removing…
That makes no sense…. I don’t want to….
Someone was shot in this spot yesterday, I heard about it on the…
There’s a bloody jacket…. it looks like…. where is Sarah anyway….
Must run faster…
There is laughing somewhere in the distance…
I can’t see because I am crying… where is Sarah? When was the last time…
I am not sure if I am screaming… I am not sure if I am thinking…
I can’t tell the difference, but I am not sure how long… it has been since I slept, and I am not certain I ever……. slept at all……in……
I throw up and she comes up behind me,
It’s only been 15 minutes?
Where and when was I???
I am losing my mind.
Vomit, my teeth cut my mouth, bloody bile…. hahah… silly…
Sounds like a cursing diss of on an football game….. not American but European……
I hug Sarah, yes… I know I am shaking.
I know I just met you, but I am so glad you are alright.
From stuff I make like the graphics on this site, and hook it to either this site or something. If anyone is interested in something like that in anyway even if it is just advice or whatever, let me know.
I am really enjoying making things, and just doing things that aren’t drugs.
I had no idea the amount of cool things I was missing standing around waiting for the man or committing atrocities trying to buy booze or drugs, I mean I should have, but I didn’t know.
I am stupid.
I also had no idea the negative effect I had on people around me until today, because I never realized other people around me care about me and knew that I was more Amanda than Amanda was.
Do you step with forward moving shoe? Do you run fearing lack of soul? I speak to me an ever dug whole of hole in soul. I am a shot in the dark taken from the hands of man who thinks they are feeding homeless man/woman, they never knew what they do they were really buy me
PAIN. Heroine without the e because I am the act of girl who used to wish to be well, anything but me. Oh, so free, I was like a dove with no wings who can’t fly.
Self roast of the burnt toast that is the breakfast I was never there to have because I am so bad that I walked out on mom and dad and went to live on the street, isn’t that neat. I am roast of me for you, because I do not kid this is the only way I can save my soul, by roasting it and spinning like a phoenix without feathers, or an ever forgetting pain drain that forgets to thank the Lord and tries to wield death’s sword.
I was SATAN’s word, now I fight for redemption with mention of evil to remember what I am being redeemed from. I am tired of shunning God in act of being sod instead of lover of my creator.
I am not a miss spelling, not there either, baby
I am lame, but maybe I am trying to tell you something
I am a sham, a sea gull named life’s last stand, inserted into dying human being.
Listen to me…
Pressing the stressing dressing of the never resting meth head who head is dressed with never rest through pained dressed dance with thoughts of life spent on death
Cash spent on passing glass that reflects life lost or tossed in trash through battery acid soaked lash that hurts so bad it stings my soul or reeking creaking pain hole full of nothing but sin, so I look to Him because I am bad as bad as can be, I am blind man and woman, so arrogant there are two of me. I am in love with self so much I write letters of love to me. You have seen me do it. Do you think that is fun, being that meth spun you spend your life staring into the eyes of yourself hell bent on being anything other than me and feed
feed me drugs, I am a dirty rug,
I am walk on me, baby, I am crazy and will flip out if you do the wrong thing
I am to be feared because I reek of sin, and the only way out is
Trust in Him.
God is my only answer that is a cure to my death ridden soul.
I made friends with foxes because we used to pray the same way in the same holes, not the same way, I am a human being who cannot speak animal neigh
I am a lunatic who stares at the moon and dreams of clear streams that are for swimming not fire and speed. I am the lack of blood on arms that were charmed enough to live not charmed but gifted by the lifting of chosen curse or eating dirt, because child heart I am also arrogant as Hell. I aim to tell you things because I like to talk because I am a narcissist who made a choice that if I am addicted to my own voice, why not at least say something good?
Owl City-“Shooting Star”
Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light
'Cause it's time for you to shine
Brighter than a shooting star
So shine no matter where you are tonight
Instead lies for crying eyes who hand me DRUGS, I am stronger than street thugs, but weaker too, a lot of them sell drugs to feed families, I shot heroin to commit calamities, acting out of complete insanity, I am vanity on a death terror ride, through illusion cycling through past for you, so you can see what I say and not go where I went and do what I did, because I don’t kid, I am kid who got saved by my creator, I am a pained footed waiter, not a metaphor an admission. I am just one suffering addiction speaking divine inspired truth that is inspired by God.He saved me.
I do not want to preach or teach, just simply save lives, by screaming the whole jails institutions death thing is real
and I feel un-punctuated and so elated by getting to tell you this.
Do not take death’s kiss people love you, please stay, if you listen to any of my psycho ego babble, I am playing scrabble with apples with words for you. I want you to know wherever you go, whatever you do, just say no to drugs, I want much more for you, because I love you and don’t even know you. Imagine how those who know you feel.
Love yourself. We recover.
In flames there are pained brains called human stains or life down drains or really brains the ignite with the light fire of soul and burning dark hole. I stand in land of fiction with addiction to chaotic friction, a psycho-active highly impacting ever attracting sensation of the burning of lack
Or of massive attack on heart attack due to speed
Do you feel the need to cry out in pain life down the drain or to hope to some foxhole style prayer that your God is there?
He is. Get out. I know he is.
He lives he is. You are wrong.
I am a song. I am lyrics spent on lament.
You are hell bent on attacking when it is you that are lacking, lacking soul
Creek of door wanting some that it
lacks. You are sacked. You are packed you are shipped with delivery to Hell where you will forever dwell, disease. I bend you to knees,
Please baby. Please. See how it feels? I am the imitator of the psycho faker who really is SATAN. I make fun to shun the evil one.
I am powered by God. I am love. I am human being in the act of being inspired by love and hope and trust. I am the idea that Hell is DUST.
I am forever trust in Him and don’t give in to pain.
I am never complain.
I am arrogant too. I am sinful just like you. I am the face of fallen man, trying to learn how to stand. I am woman trying to roar, while forgetting it is a higher power that gives wings to human’s that are sore.
I am world tour of misery, by misers, sent by fire firing fire desire.
They are fired. By me. I am free. I want you to see clearly, I love you put joy in all you do, if nothing else is true be you, and alive and dance no jive with death. I don’t mind what you believe. I am free, I need to see clearly through speech, I aim not to taunt or preach just to reach out with my story, all though it might be gory I am trying to find His Glory.
I do not want to enforce, I am done with the act of firing torch. I want to spread love, but it doesn’t matter what I want. I write to you. It is up to you.
I am food for thought. I am misery taught, joy born addict no longer dying scorn.
Narcissism at its finest woo! Now I get to feel like **** for a bit as a punishment for vanity.
I am an idiot.
I am also insane-ly
Shut up, ****
Good at self-pity isn’t it pretty?
I am the flowing go of white snow.
I feel like I am going to throw up and thinking about drugs makes it worse so I do it more?
Mental illness at it’s finest
I guess… fine with me because it has to be I guess..
Or it is so it is.
On a side note, does anyone find it slightly disturbing that a plane has an area called cockpit?
I am listening to the news and just realized the horror in that phrase.
I like this song and boxes are cool..
That was easy.
I am kind of more awake now, see clearly, I am not addicted to caffeine. I need nothing but myself.
I need a cup of coffee. This sucks…
I need to learn to use the ****ing
I hate being a pathetic loser.
I don’t want to break the stupid thing.
Did you sleep well? I barely slept at all…. I kept waking up as you can see…. because I have to do something today, and **** me. I am not important enough to feel okay anyway, and probably wouldn’t even if I slept… but how would I know because I don’t anyway???
Reason meant for reason a ment or Amanda’s meant resentment of self. Bam. Throughout punch of throat of myself, just pissed I am always tired, so I am word boxing myself, so I wake up, which is why I am always tired, and insane….
I like that movie…
I have seen it 302808 times.
It is one of the reasons I am tired right now.
Not true…. I am insane…. because.. I am insane… and I will never be not insane… because my broken brain doesn’t ****ing work write right write……..
this is just stupid now.
Ma belle These are words that go together well.-The Beatles “Michelle”
This computer, shoes, and a my nicotine vape pen. I am sayin’ that even though I have lived without everything, except air and heartbeat, because I am not going to be arrogant enough to count time in a coma from overdoses, or induced coma from surgery or un-induced coma from seizures from hydrocephalus as living at all. I am using living to mean living well here.
I am also assuming that food water and oxygen don’t have to be the answer because duh.
I am sorry for my sarcasm, my stomach hurts.
I am really really doing a lot better, so I am being more of an *** because I am regaining confidence in myself which sometimes manifests in me as acting like a self-involved ***.
I say the three objects I said, because I
By this computer, I mean a computer, even though this computer, my families computer, Amanda’s families computer is also symbolic and saving our life too, being forgiveness, love, care and acceptance symbolized.
Love the outdoors, am constantly pacing around, am prone to injury and infection, am done living as a crying dying lying shoe-less drug addict mad man with glass in my hand, my brain and my feet from the ground.
Nicotine helps with the prescription that though self-prescribed is better than alcohol, heroin, meth, cocaine, pot, molly, acid, dmt, prescription pain meds, muscle relaxers, drinking water to intoxicate, running till I almost die, and holding my breathe till I experience death or euphoria.
I want to add, that this website is as always, saving my life, as well as Amanda’s through and with me, and separate from me all at the same time. I love every single one of you.
I have been draining myself, recently a lot recently, and the thing with the stain on the wall has been driving me nuts since I saw it. I still see it. It’s still there. I know it is there, I know what a blood stain on a wall looks like… I know what it feels like to the hand, the absorbency of the walls texture catching the blood and giving the wall a texture that reeks of dampness. No one has been in this room with me, and no one else sees the stain, I think… or they are not telling me they see it. I asked them about it and they looked at me with an eerie strangeness that I don’t quite understand.
I really think there is something to this. I even went as far as to smell the stain on the wall. It smells like iron, like the sticky iron of blood, sweet smelling almost like rot, I am sitting in the room with it, Rei and my daughter are watching a movie, which I can’t be bothered with. I want to figure this out.
I scratched at it and nothing flecks off the wall.. The color of the stain does not change with bleach. It is strange there are times when in the reflection of the cast light of sun or moon I feel like I see it glimmering. Like there is a metallic quality to its red blood smelling presence in the room. I think I am freaking out Rei, but there seems to be something different about how my daughter reacts to the projected madness of the man seeing something not there. I am not sure she doesn’t see it, but dare not approach the subject further, at least not while her mother is here. I want to have a conversation with her privately, one of a kind I cannot have unless she does not reveal its contents to her mother. I don’t like keeping as much as I have from Rei. I am not doing it out of the same selfish foolishness I did before.
I have this strange feeling I am not supposed to… tell her about my obsession with this wall stain business. I have spoken to my other half of my soul, and she finds the same eerie quality to the whole thing. I do not think I am a man insane. Well, that’s not exactly true. I do think I am insane, but I think the stain is there in some way presenting to me for some reason, and I am going to figure out why.
I can tell that the computer is trying to figure out which one of us is the owner of the computer. It keeps trying to get me to set up a contact list to my email, to set up a personal signature, it doesn’t like my last name because it is two words, and apparently that is not a thing outside of Spain? I don’t know… I thought other people did that too… It is really bugging both me and Amanda out, equally. I am not the one screaming in her ear. I think we are beginning to have the same sort of opinions that each other have.
It is really cool, I didn’t realize how much it bothered be being a passenger in my own skin. I am glad she likes me now. It was like both of us wanted to kill ourselves by drinking and using to death or ripping our skin in half. I remember waking up with scratches and blood all over my face or gigantic holes in appendages. It varied where, the most frequent was the face.
I think that is what it doesn’t like about us, is my point, that we are an us. It has a real issue with it. I am convinced that it slows down the whole system on this thing, she is a little skeptical about it.
So now it happened during the day while I was awake enough to get my *** up and run with her, mind you I don’t know how the **** we did it. She was watching me, while I was on here, and I didn’t know it. I was posting things online for a friend of mine who I help manage her small business, she is an awesome woman. One of the best friends anyone could ask for. She also knows a lot about antiques and vintage everything. Anyway, so I am sitting here e·mersed in trying to find things, looking through other peoples written work, whatever… I don’t know and I can feel her looking at me, she has this eerie way of looking through me, as if she can see into my soul, and I got weird about it, made some sort of strange face, and I think we switched bodies for a second, you know like that stupid movie from the seventies not the movie with Lohan, but the original one?
Yeah, I remember, Damien.
Cool you heard me. I was freaking out so I thought it be nice to say hi.
She looked at me and I felt her feelings, I felt how she was afraid in the same way I am afraid of her, that she was afraid of me, not liking her… that her introversion was my introversion and it was only a second, but I feel like I know her so much better, I trust her completely. She is like me 2.0, wow… narcissism…
Check this out!
I just remembered what I was going to say before ranting like a lunatic about nothing! I had the same lucid dream as my daughter while sleep walking and we both saw versions of ourselves in rainbow colors walk off somewhere, I tried to follow me and couldn’t because I am an out of shape drug addict, but she actually got outside and sat down where it left her and it was freaking awesome because in the sky there was this dancing constellation that when I looked at it and thought at it it responded my thoughts by moving at me and I think that means that there is an opposing joy spectre that we are contacting through defeating misery and i am so excited about
that. Okay breathe in.
Sorry. I do that sometimes.
Hope you stayed with me on that one, but if not, I’ll explain later? I’m tired now, and have to take a shower.