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.

Ouch.

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 like when that happens.

Pages: 1 2

Looks delicious

I am touched with blare, glare, re-colored from grey despair, I am looking at this from different chair, and it looks not half bad, not half good, because I am looking back.

The act of being with a person forever, looks not half bad too, if I didn’t have to be with someone I hated, if I didn’t have to be in denial of my own reality.

Look at me, look at me, so wonderous and free.

You really should stop doing that.

Why?

You sound like an ***hole when you do that.

No I just sound like we are happy to not be with that ******* you were with before.

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I am the rose dancer, I am a be, I am a rose dancer, I aim to be. I am rose dancer I am two bees, I am a rose dancer, I aim to please.

I am an object, I am not. I am resentment, my creator is not, the person writing this story, although their hand types its words. I am realization not to spew hate with words.

I am representation of everything my creator is not, I am self-assertion, realizing there is a god.

I am the schism, of soul from body.

You make me happy

You make me sad

You make me angry.

I want you so bad.

I look at you, and I see us, look at you, you make me trust, that I was wrong, the whole **** time, you could be mine, you are so sublime, you are great, and I love you dearly, you are so beautiful, I speak sincerely.

I love you baby, you bring me joy, you are perfect, for you I am

Perpetually in love, you are morning dove.

Oh watermelon mixed drink, I loved you so, why oh why, did you have to go, and be bad for me, and ruin my life, I am so sad, it cuts like knife, in my liver, and makes me sick, but hold you tight still I wish, I could do it, but I can’t, I am an

Alcoholic, with no self-control, everything I touch, just eats my soul, I can be addicted to anything, even digging a hole.

You are everything I do not have, because I have lived of a life of too bad, so sad, goodbye’s, of too high to live, but too sad to try to die. You are everything I never had, becuase I was too mad to put a bottle down, too angry to throw out mixed poison, and now I am stuck in looking back, because for the moment, it is Sunday and I have nothing to do, but think of you.

I am a gasoline fire, made of pained backward reflection, smoke billowing everywhere, anywhere and nowhere, burning embers, burning leaves saved from September, the last time I remember feeling anything other than small and addicted to pain.

She looks like our friend, baby.

Yeah she does, are you done ****ing now?

Yeah, I guess so, at least I have you.

Without you my life is hell, and though I live to tell, I can tell you I am quite unwell, I only talk to myself, and dream of bottles no longer on my shelf, and dirty pinging needles, and rocks that taste like batteries, it is quite sad, being this mad…

I have realized now I am insane, and that it was not my disdain for you that caused me to want to leave you there crying on my arm chair, playing with your pretty dark hair, you are on my brain, my mind, at the tip of my tongue, because I realize that I do not miss being spun as much as I miss fun.

My heart did beat for you once, and became slightly inflamed, fighting narcissism and posion in my veins.

For now I am alone, and maybe someday will bring myself out of myself, and finally use a phone to call someone other than myself.

I have known you a thousand times, but noticed nothing, not a thing about you, because I worhipped something that stripped all the color from my world.

You, and all like you

Paint me like you saw me, a black and white rendering of a heart posessed by darkness and moral decay.

I told her and all like her, to stay away, far away from me, desiring nothing, other than what fueled me…

Pushing everything and everyone away, far, far away, now I am left alone.

I knew this would happen, and did not care, addicted to the now

Now now now

More more more

I complain, but know I did this to me, I was so joy us and O so free.

I was addicted to

I am alone.

I am right along side of you.

To be or not to be?

Distended and extended

I am a time eater.

Left with nothing now, I look back, because I am stuck in the creation of forward.

You are not the creator of reality.

I know, but I am the shaper of my future, or one of them anyway.

Burning Canoe

Sometimes, I wake up and I am not me, but someone else, somewhere else, and if nothing else, I am aware, that this means very bad things are happening to me, somewhere else, where I am actually myself. This time, I wake up in a painting. I am not sure why, but I am aware that I am in the painting, which kind of feels like lucid dreaming for normal people, I guess.

It feels like actually being in a canoe, like I am imagining is in the painting which I am hallucinating, or for regular people, lucid dreaming. The only difference is very strange. I am extremely warm. It feels like sunburn.

I am so warm in fact, that I want to jump out of the canoe, which I do, immediately, and feel the water in the painting hit my skin, but also feel the burning sensation go away, as I imagine other water hits my real skin. I am comforted by this fact, that somewhere ele, where I actually am, I am not burning alive, and then I hear it, a commotion, coming from somewhere else, it is a sound I recognize, fire alarm, blarring, somewhere else.

My apartment is on fire.

I am brought back to present time, someone is spraying those of us walking out with a firehose. I am holding a painting of people in a canoe. The strange thing is, it is not the painting from my apartment, there is someone in the waterr next to the canoe, they were not there before.

Bad metaphor

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.

Why?

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?

Yes.

Fighting on Goddesses

Sea Goddess, Ocean Siren

I am looking at you, but seeing only me, because I am bitterness reflected, back from eyes that are stained with tearing at myself, bitterness encased in toxic casing which is the current shell I am placed in.

I hate myself, but hated you, because you in some way reflected me too, but that is my problem, even now, I am trying to realize this, and come down, from the pedestal I placed myself on, where I sit alone, and rambling on, about how nothing was my fault.

Is that really how it was, selfish ***hole? No, it wasn’t.

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin.

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin

I forever, always and forever, and always and forever will be addicted to heroin

Are you talking to me?

Not you, but it yes…

Why? You want?

We are not doing that ever again

If you do I am coming to

That was not an error Amanda, remember what happened sometimes, the act of coming to

I don’t want that because it will make my… our family sad

I know me neither now.

You are so far away, and I hope you stay that way, but I dream about you everyday because I am an alcoholic and need to think of something else, putting ideas of you back on the shelf.

I am thinking of her, but I am really thinking of you, and when I romance her, I am thinking of you, and everything I felt because of her, which was really all about you and everything you made me feel.

I love you so, you make everything so easy baby, you make it so okay, to be so crazy, and you will never let me go, no matter how far I run, how long I go without talking to you, you know just where to find me, which is anywhere, anywhere at all.

You know that I am small, though I pretend to be tall. I pretend you don’t have the power to take me down

down down down

On the floor, crawling just like before, where I prefer to be, cradling rocks with my hands, because sharp things are my best friends.

Pin cushion

Pin cushion

Words about heroes.

What topics do you like to discuss?

Sarah

I am the one, who people meet outside, who they instantly know, have known their whole life, they tell me their problems, I give them advice, tell them their feelings are justified and I am right, I can see things from every perspective, because I have no set perspective of my own, having no set personality that is my own, I can identify with either side of an argument and it is extremely useful for giving advice, horrible for

Maintaining human relationships, unless they are my mother, brother, or my sister, those are the only ones who still talk to me…

I like giving advice because it prevents me from giving myself advice and sounding like I am my own psychiatrist talking to my ex wife.

A very sarcastic blast from the past, or me kicking my own ***

Tragic Magic, Sewn back, sown back, shatter, scatter, patter, matter

A hill of silence

I am small because I have a fear of weakness.

I am pathetic, but also narcissistic, and I made this so I am re-inserting this above, which you do not need to know, but I have schizophrenia, so I assume people are watching me type.

Not for you, but for me, because I am insane and stare at metal. I like heavy metal, which is why I like chains, because they are made of the same thing, and I also like putting my hands in chains because I like heavy metal,

I like pain, because I love to complain, which is why I stare at things that people don’t notice, I look at them closely while others talk, because people make me uncomfortable.

I am a prisoner in my own body, so I guess that is also why I like chains, because they represent me.

She tells me to go on a hike, so I go walk a long path, veering way far away from where she is, because, she is not that interesting anyway, being someone I just met.

Psycho path, psycho path, where art thou, psycho path?

I am right here, staring at a woman’s shoes, but you can’t see me, because I am a liar, and I am actually typing this on computer while thinking about drugs.

I love you so much, I took you golfing, because we both love golfing, and my friend lives across the street who also loves golfing, which means I must stop golfing and go talk to him about this pretty dragon, and how much we both love golfing.

I used to chase dragons, now I see them for what they are, just scars, that are on these two spots I like to stare at and think about how great it was, to almost die.

I painted you this color, because I am a narcissist who dropped their camera on the ground,

running around, chasing drugs around the country. I am very funny. I am very funny. Look at me, spending all of my money, not my money, other people’s money, that they gave me, while I held a sign, to be clear, I didn’t say what it was for, and stood there for 7 hours a day, so it was pretty clear what it was for.

The kettle is blacker than most, because I wanted it to be, so I made it be, and I made the rest of this purple, so the kettle look more black than it already was, and there is no pot in this, because I prefer hard drugs, because I am just that kind of ****.

What does that even mean?

I liked how it sounded, rappers do it, why can’t it be done with horror, and actually all letters you write me are severe, because they are severly disturbing to average people.

That is actually very true.

I know that is why I thought of it.

Not everything you think is true.

Blue poking madness, is dark gladness, or glowing sadness

Name one thing.

I am not a drug addict, I just like heroin and can do it responsibly this time, if I just don’t drink. This is actually something you were thinking today. How do I know, because I was thinking it to.

I am a box that never should have been opened.

I am trying it one time, and never again.

I will never do it two days in a row.

I can just drink one.

I can just have three.

I will start at five.

I will start at 12.

Severly, means harshly, and I think that a lot of us talking to each other, can be considered harsh, which is why I like you.

You like me because you have to, because I am you, or half you, and you are in love with your whole self which is half me.

Sick burn.

just hanging out

I think I would be happier like this, completely alone, talking to myself as my partner.

Hey, isn’t that what we are doing now, and doesn’t it ****?

Yes.

Than what the **** are you talking about???

I am the flower of devour.

That I am insane, and don’t know what else to say, and I am trying to make someone laugh, even if it is just you?

So you are talking to yourself on a blank screen, trying to type things that make you feel good about yourself?

Yeah, isn’t that what the book of faces is???

I don’t think anyone on that thing is looking in a mirror talking to their own face as if it is another person?

They aren’t? That is what it looks like to me.

That is because we are insane, and it is not what they are doing, because they are not insane.

That sucks.

For us or them.

Well, mostly them.

Why?? Not what I expected to hear…

Because, we never have to be truly alone.

Or, we are always more alone than anyone ever.

Other than maybe Gollum on Lord of the rings.

Tell me a story, make it true, make it all about everything you do

I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.

I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.

A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled

Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.

I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.

I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.

I am because I am really also you.

I know, because I am awesome.

I am awesome too.

I know, because we both are.

Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.

Where do you run to? I ran in the dark, and it was nice, until I fell, and busted my knee.

This is who I fight, not Rei, this, strong trigger, this is raw, scary channeled nightmare.

I think of you every time I hear the peepers, not my you, the one I found on here that sounds like me, how I sounded when I talked to the burning rays of the sun, and thought I was talking to someone else, when I was really talking to resentmeant.

I married sin, it ate me from within.

I married hate, it made me quite irate.

I married wrath, it made me slay a calf.

I was really married to no one, we didn’t have the money, we spent it on heroin, if I had been married I would have been divorced 3 times.

3 strikes, I am out, of the game of slaying my exes with hexes online, because it is unkind and that puts my soul in a bind, with bought time, before I destroy me, and  run on bloody knee into a train, this really happened, so insane, I think in addict brain that I am running from something, and I was, a pitbull, metaphoric because this one I can’t say online, don’t have permission to, he chased me till I ran away, afraid he would take me

OUT OUT OUT

Of the state of being able to say anything about anything ever again

Drive me INSANE

Permanently.

I am the psych patient being told, you can’t be allowed out, unless someone signs for you, and unfortunately you can’t remember your name or who to have sign for you.

****

Run.

I can’t. I am stuck in here. I am stuck sitting in a chair next to a man who doesn’t know his name either, he thinks his name is Sand.

He told me this, and I told him, I like grains.

He likes me now.

I am okay with it here, but I like the SUN.

I am so sorry to the most high, not her, not me, but the nature that rests above me, the moon, the stars, everything I do not own, that I made mine when I said.

I have the right to steal everything, from everyone, to buy heroin.

I am so sorrry, but I don’t hate me anymore, because I have written my resentments out here, and they all reflect back at me, well clearly.

Clearly, clearly, look at me, I am spinning I am free, I hurt myself, by killing my friend in only metaphoric sense, but really I kill my heart, my soul, making me an aching hole.

I would divorce myself if I could. I would divorce myself if I could, I am the screaming liar, with soul on fire, who burned fires, set by me worshipping my own death.

Clearly can’t get me, I get my self. I drink bottle HIGH on shelf, I have cut ears of injured elf… it rhymed…

Hahahhahhahahhahhaahhahhahahhahha

no no no no no.

I am the soul keeper of my own, my precious because it rings so so so true.

Ode to Schizophrenia.

I worshiped Rah. I worshiped death. I worshiped anything that would keep me in

inner turmoil.

Churning oil.

Faker faker faker. Liar. I hate myself. I put my life in fires of HELL, metaphoric and very real, because I can burn, I can feel. I

am eye of tainted man, of woman too because I am too.

Never alone, never alone, I am never alone. Always here with me. Always at my own face, screaming, I hate you.

I am the eater of Damien’s soul, I am MISERY. I EAT HIM WHOLE.

Ahhahahaahahhahahhahahahha

You can’t get me, I forgave myself.

What makes you laugh?

Human failure is hilarious to me, anything that involves people failing at life makes me laugh, I think because I am trying to learn to accept my own failure and seeing others be alright enough with themselves to laugh at themselves helps me learn to laugh at myself, instead of beating the **** out of myself.

I like British comedy a lot too, the british version of the office was way better than the American version of The Office, even though I like the American version as well,  Carrell did a good job with the adaption.

I like comedy news too.

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

View all responses

I am sitting on a street corner, watching everyone walk by, making eye contact with people with nice clothes on, for just a second and then looking away, this being a better technique than most people’s “Can you spare any change?”……….

YOU SOUND LIKE AN ***HOLE..

Yeah..

They don’t understand we are just addicts who do not want to screw anyone over, we have to because we are slaves to our addictions, most of us feel bad about it. It perpetuates the addictions of most of us… We use and drink to be able to sleep and think because we are addicts and then we end up, or some of us do anyway, out of the street, having to panhandle, steal, lie, and some of us gain some sort of semblance of pride that comes from being good at it. I am good with words, I liked doing what I did not because I liked being a liar but because I like playing with words.

There are hundreds like me, thousands, who failed and get some sort of semblance of control from panhandling vocally, or writing clever signs, or sitting outside with a sign for 12 hours and making 200 dollars a day.

I am, by the way, an ***hole, but I am trying to change now.

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

Willy wonka

Seventh Circle: Middle ring: In this ring are the suicides, who are transformed into gnarled thorny bushes and trees.

Dante Alighieri, Dante’s Inferno

I am the time breaker of minds, the dealer of time in items, for the price of penny for your thoughts-

YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOW MINE

How does it feel baby? Is it making you a little… crazy?

No, it’s not…..

I am……..

I like dimes… dimes are neat… I make dimes on the street… I don’t eat because meat is toxic… I like consuming……

METH

From them

Funny spelling, does it speak to you sweetheart?

You are so clever speaking to me with MY voice.

It’s his voice, you are nothing.

It’s my voice.

Sweet. A 20… I make more money when I sound funny… hahahahahahahah..

Look at me, I can run through life so free, no need of sleep or fear of pain, no wonder my life is

DOWN THE DRAIN

End transmission.

Explanation: I saw a bunch on the work on your page, and you inspired me. I have been struggling over the past couple days with thoughts of suicide. Your work on your site, helped me keep going, thank you for being one of the ones responsible for saving my life, yesterday.

Your BooknVolume https://booknvolume.com/ speaks volumes to me, in the words you cast to this dark screen, in them… kindness reflects off and gives peace,

I see your reaction and see what I lack, when I am drawn to lament and to attack, everything you say on your page,

A medication for my meditations on making self pay over and over to bend over in rage.

Through your help I see misspell enrage.

You are more wise than me, you see.

I can’t see anything clearly.

Thank you for bringing this to light for me.

You have brought me peace, for the second and for that and the light through which beckons

on me a little grace,

I am so glad you helped me

by replacing erase with a picture that

Helps me stop hating my damn face.

and taking me out of this…

JOKE

If something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be a warning. It may be The Omen.

The omen

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

****

There it is, the one word that describes me, blanked out, so I have no idea what it is, and you can guess the mystery behind its four lettered character.

The answer doesn’t matter. Even though the answer is the entire point of answering this question, or is it? Or is the point…. the characterization of a member of society who was before unclear?

Omen.

It’s all for me…

ahahahhahhahhhahahhahhhahhahahhahhhhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhah

“Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon earth.”

Homer, The odyssey

I used to live in the woods, really I did. I spent an entire 8 months in the Oregon dunes, somewhere and everywhere in Oregon. I lived there and survived by clamming, and panhandling for food money, and don’t feel bad for me, I made 200 dollars a day, so very promptly after getting there, I developed a nasty attraction to bitter rocks that ate a hole through my hands and my soul.

They chased me to California. I walked there, I think I mentioned that before, high as a kite, I flew on the feet of the dragon, and the wings of fallen dreams to the state of California, with an angel of mercy sent to me whose name ironically was Chris, he sang like a bird the entire way. He was a beautiful singer. My arrogance and pride caused me to walk away, literally from one of the kindest human beings I have ever met in my life, without even saying goodbye. He screamed after me, and I ran, fleeing kindness for California, where I would meet what I was running to, an empire of pain on the sullied streets, I thought I desired so much. I am sorry Chris, you were kind to me, and I should have at least said goodbye.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2023/03/21/photo-challenge-458/

The quilts blow in the wind, the dangle in the flapping breeze that does so well to dry them, after having been bathed in the river, washing them of their previous… stains… I used to be prone to.. bleeding on things. Lots of things… so I had lots of blankets… that I stole from an artist named Sara Whiley. I don’t know much about the woman, just know the name for some reason. Strange. I am glad the quilts are drying. They are actually quite beautiful.

They look a lot better now that I have slept. I like the colors of them. Maybe I should give them back. Maybe I give them back I can leave Misery, my land of addiction in my mind of psycho delusion and love myself enough to be a real human being all the time, not just sometimes.

This is already happening dufus.

Oh yeah, right.

I am the split of two souls

I have always felt like I am being a girl/I have always felt like a guy.

Damien/Amanda

I have been fighting myself dilated through two universe, a narcissist but also a hater of myself, psychotic two spirit with soul split in misery and dilated through drugs, dumb, and blind because I chose to be, but I am really two spirits second chance, they are in this together fighting for redemption. They are two souls that would have been in misery without each other.

I am a chaotic mad chasing, not of nothing but of my own self, which existed with me the whole time, I was just too arrogant to see that my higher power had given me something different. Thankful for today. I will no longer use this to change my voice and commit petty crime.

I can die later, when it wants me to, only it knows that.

I realize now why this was done, we were both so arrogant we needed to be brought to our knees. We did this in psychosis, the only way we knew how a narcissist drowning in life trying to be with themselves. I can live with myself now because me and Amanda or Damien and I are the same person. BAM. Thank you, to a power higher than for teaching me the hard way, the only way I would listen.

There are those of us that are different, gifted with ability of rapid sight that scan through rooms, noticing everything at once, we are the known as the paranoid and delusional to those who do not understand what we are doing, when lucid, we are scanning, filling everything that is ordinary, rapidly, because in our paranoid madness, this is an essential survival tool, learning at rapid speed, what to avoid to avoid, the chaotic stripping our minds every time we have a mental breakdown.

I am in a store, and now with sobriety, I have the ability to see everything clearly with the calmness of mindful meditation, this is a super power, which is exhilarating in a way that being high never was, because I am experiencing life at rapid speed, far different from the chaotic drain circling of my madness before, this is a roller coaster through life where everything is bursting with vibrant color, coming to life all at once, and I can hear and see everything simultaneously. I am never getting high again. This is the most high I have ever felt in my life, I see everything all at once, but also individually, and I realize now how much I was causing my own pain before, how deeply I was damaging my mind.

I am free, unshackled, and it is amazing.

Thank you, to all that is higher than I ever will be, the earth, the air the stars, the life in everything all around me breathing with me all at once, you are my highest power, the force of life that pounds in my chest, I do not know why I was so blind before, but now I see clearly.

Who knew real friends are better than imaginary ones? Sometimes it feels like everyone except me knew. I am so psyched I actually have friends now, and they give a **** about me not just because I am providing them some sort of business deal or exchanging some kind of favor for something they have, they are people I can be open and honest with and they are open and honest with me, and actually ****ing like me. I am so psyched. Every day that goes by the amount of people I am connecting with is growing, and I forget that when I am alone for a couple of days, and send myself ping ponging backwards into a land of pain that is not real anymore. I had a friend of mine tell me recently to move on.

I think that is major. I think a lot of what I have been ranting about on here, all the past resentments, were what was killing me. I think the problem was, I thought I was supposed to beat myself up to heal, and I am finding out through the wisdom of others, now that I am being honest that I am not so different from those around me, and it was my own arrogance that was so fatal, not the decisions that I had made. The fact that I was not willing to accept help was what was killing me, not what I had done in the past.

Damien/Amanda

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1884

The amount of glass on the ground around me on a daily basis astound me, items on the floor smashed to smithereens, left there because I don’t take my shoes off, and I don’t care about walking on glass without them anyway.

I smash things to pieces, and I wish I could spend more time everyday picking up the pieces than lamenting an existence of fracture, but I cannot bring myself to picking them up without squeezing my hands around them, I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore. I need professional help.

I wish I could make more phone calls to do this, but I threw my phone in the river, in a paranoid psycho delusion that people were listening to my phone calls, even though my phone calls were just to her, and her yelling at me.

I think this is the last I will say about this. I am going to do the things I said above, get professional help and try to move on, sorry for ranting on here..

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1841

“From Me”

I can’t even see, I am so exhausted from making myself cry, clawing and scratching, and scrapping, and ripping and tearing at my own eyes, fighting to make it impossible to use them, so I can never see this again, myself through someone else, who ripped me so far away from myself, I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I am a cat who cannot see the cat in the mirror is them. I jump at the mirror, slamming with full impact into the glass, a marriage of breaking, a marriage of crashing, a marriage of skin meet sharp object, so very much like my tragic love affair with things heroic, but not, because they hide in human skin, and only bring death and pain and loss and women who used me like a severing knife, and then turned the knife on me.

I have become her outer monologue manifest in my mind, manifesting in man of festering infected soul. I am so stupid, I am doing this to myself, and I can’t bring myself to stop doing it because that means I am alone, and I don’t know if it is worse to talk to demonic ghosts or be alone.

I say I am never touching you again, and I am being childish, but you don’t want to know what I meant, and it was nothing against you.

I was in love with you, and I know my hands are dirty because they always are, not physically but metaphorically, that is why they are usually cracked and bleeding and prone to infection, aside from old habits done with fire and shot in vain.

You told me you knew how to help me, I told you I didn’t need your help, and you said I was being selfish, so I let you unpack the suitcase of dirty laundry that is my aching bleeding cut, open wound of a soul, and you donated them all to charity and bought me new clothes, I am not going to wear your new clothes, I am a human being with feelings, and bad as I am, I am still a human being with feelings, and if you hated me so much…. I am starting to be glad you are no longer around, because I would rather be lonely the rest of my life, then ever have to fight with someone while high on my own supply with you who contributed nothing but criticism, when I kept trying to get clean and sober.

Here, you would say, giving me some of yours, which I didn’t know you had, when you were going line for line shot for shot with me, on money bought with gambling that no one figures me out.

I am so tired of thinking of you.

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.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/03/16/reenas-xploration-challenge-272/

I am in a trance, meditating on a deadly wavelength a chaotic hypnosis focusing on a stroboscopic motion, the slicing fan, tragic entrainment , of my mind transfixed on the woman who danced with me, for money and items.

I am dancing right now, with my own death, because I cannot handle living right now, and I don’t want to die, but I am bleeding out a year after losing you, over and over again, triggered by nothing, by you calling me, you texting me, bothering me, so much that I put all this out here on this site, as if it just happened, that is how it feels, like it just happened, but I have bleeding for a year. I am dying over this, and have been for a year, killing myself, with drugs and alcohol over a person who used me for drugs and alcohol. I am disgusted with myself and with her/him. I am so done with all of this, but keep coming back over and over to it, because they won’t leave me alone.

I just want peace, please everything in the universe, please just give me the strength to move on and find something else.

I am Swiss cheese…..

Except I am not Swiss, and not cheese…

Just a real person… or

Human soul

Full of metaphysical holes in my

Self or the idea of everything I am.

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

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

You realize you are just her source right?

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

I want to….

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

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

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

How would you rate your confidence level?

10. I am very very fast. I can run faster than anyone I know, most notably faster than this guy whose girlfriend paid me back my… rent money. I loaned it to him.. because I am a nice person? It was 400 dollars I got for standing in traffic at a light, and I am not the kind of person who looks good doing that… so sometimes they pay me to move, it takes a couple hours to make 400 dollars, like 8.

I stood there for 8 hours and had enough to pay the rent for the month or um… make tragic mistakes, you know dice roll. I decided to play double or nothing with my friend who is my business associate at well, well after this, his girl was my business associate and he was my **** for about 2 months. He wanted the power back from his girl.

I have a very um… aggressive approach to business, so people give me what I want.

Being impervious to death helps too… which is why I am turning my life around because I am realizing how I write this what an *** I was, because I think that something saved me all these times, and I proceeded to give it the finger, so it chopped my fingers off? Or the tips of three of them? I don’t think He or them or it really did that… I think it was MRSA and me being a ****.

Moral of the story, I am an arrogant **** , but I am trying to tone that down so… 5 on confidence..

I was friends with a man who lived in a motel in a state that’s name does not matter, that I met at a place called The Wall. We called the man the horse, because he ran fast. The whole thing was pretty elaborate but basically was you being led around from place to place while they got you high on other things to distract you and to throw off anyone watching the place this occurred. One of the places they would lead you to was a place called The Wall, it was literally just a wall in the middle of nowhere on an abandoned building.

Sometimes it took 5 hours, and you would stand staring at the wall, get the name choice? You would stand there afraid to miss the great pumpkin. I brought a marker once and wrote “The writing” all over the wall, and they beat the **** out of me, and asked what I was thinking, so I replied..

“Isn’t it obvious??? The writing is on the wall!”

What I was really thinking.. was that **** better come back with all my **** because I was going to beat the **** out of him if he came back with nothing like last time, and he already owed me for two times before that.

_____________________________________________________________________

I am sick of myself. End toxic memory.
________________________________________________________________________

Feel better now.

Peace.

“If it’s not yours then why is it in your wallet?”, he says to me, and I know she got me, she is in the bathroom dying from doing both our shots, even though I told her she couldn’t handle it… she got mad, thinking I was being selfish.. she spent all our cash meant to get out of Houston on drugs… and I am being selfish… because I have a warrant here, for punching a cop while drunk..

I won’t admit to it being yours, because now if they give it back, it is mine, and I am not a snitch, I don’t give **** about going to jail. I ask for my wallet and say it has medication in it, that I am having a panic attack and need my meds. The ****ing cop gives it to me, and I look him in eye, and spit at him, run to the bathroom after grabbing my wallet he drops when I punch him, he doesn’t have a body cam on him.

He tells me I am going to prison. I bash my head in the wall, and tell him his cam isn’t on, ****er forgot to it on.

I throw up from the force of the blow to head, all over my legs.

Three cops show up as back-up.

They cuff me. I struggle, and get a resisting arrest charge as well as slammed into the cop car so hard it dislocates my shoulder.

They don’t care.

I’ll be out of jail in 3 days.

She/he will have this on his conscience forever.

I am standing on a corner waiting for you, and you tell me not to move, because you want to be able to find me, but what you are really saying is you don’t trust me.

Three hours later, I am running around looking for you, asking anyone and everyone where you are and if they have seen you, and hysterically crying, unable to fully run because I am almost choking on how much I love you, and how sorry I am that I wanted any of this at all.

You come up to me, and I ask if you got it, and you tell me you did, and then tell me it’s yours because I moved.. I am sick and about to throw up because I am addicted to heroin, and I am covered in sweat, you say I smell like I have been cheating on you. I start laughing thinking your kidding, and you’re not, you go in the bathroom and use the shit, and tell me to **** myself.

It was my ****ing money. It was my ****. It was my tears cried over you that cost me being sick the whole day. I am so done, but I am not, not yet, but soon.

How would you rate your confidence level?

I do not have confidence in myself, because I am not supposed to, I speak of matters I do not understand, and am a two-spirited human being or two human beings fighting for redemption at once. They were paired with each other to save each other. They were both chained to a world of addiction and Misery. I have been unchained from that, and I feel like something helped me, don’t know what it is, but I can’t keep being a selfish self asserting jerk.

Amanda and I are supposed to help each other, because we are both half people, weak and need another person… We have been saved from death because we made a deal with something, over and over in foxholes, we cried out to the universe, screaming in madness, we begged, pleaded with anything willing to help us, anything that would listen, I didn’t care what it was that saved me, saved her. I just wanted to survive, and not be in that place, and see the things they were doing to people to protect their drugs.

I know now that I was a child having a hissy fit. I am done with that now. I am going to try to do everything I can to do the right thing. My confidence is now in that realization and in that I have it within me to do the right thing.

I am coming to a place of peace, which I didn’t think I would ever know, and I owe that to everyone on here, and my family and friends around me physically, and the support I have gotten from those who gave me medical and spiritual guidance so far. I am very much caught up most of the time, in the blame shame guilt thing. Spaced that way on purpose, because there is awkwardness there for me. I like to control everything because I am an addict, I mean to say, which I know I don’t have to keep saying, but saying it helps me. It reminds me that I am not just a rotten apple, unlike the others that are all just a metaphor for good or bad human beings, that should not be compared to something that I can throw in the trash, but the comparison is made on purpose, to illustrate how I behaved in active addiction, which I do not miss at all anymore.

I am getting over everything slowly. I am still not over the whole Rei/Justin thing, and it has been a year of this by the way. The revelations on this site, were not happening in real time, they were a dilation of a situation internal to my mind, that was driving me insane, which was happening in real time, and you saw on here, me fighting with hallucinations brought on by pain. I am sorry for the false presentation of this, if it consolation, this was exactly how it was happening my life as well, with me thinking things at this screen, just not admitting none of it was happening in real time, because it was too painful to admit that to myself.

I am trying to learn to forgive myself, that I am not all bad, but it is very hard, because I have always hated myself.

Love,

Damien/Amanda

In a fog of vapor, an addict puts pen to..

An addict lies about nothing to make things rhyme while wasting time

Spinning rhymes to distract themselves… have you heard there are two of me?

Clearly.

___________________________________________________________________________

I am sitting alone in silence, wondering what it is that makes me have random moments of I am going to fall off a cliff, what shifted, what did I miss?

The shot…

No not that, that is done, and you are

SPUN

You are no fun.

Neither are you not anymore…

Whore.

Ow..

Did I hurt you?

No, you were talking to yourself again.

_____________________________________________

Sometimes, I get sunburn so bad it is on the inside of my soul.

Hole.

Whole.

Consume Hole Whole Soul

Erase Transmission?

End of mission?

Mission to what?

To shut you the **** up.

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.

I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.

I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own

Maker

Breaker

Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.

Facts.

I loved you, any of you who was with me, I thought… but now I don’t know, because it always ends the same

You are insane

THEN GO! I KNOW. I KNOW. I DON’T CARE. I DON’T NEED YOU. NEVER DID NEVER WILL I HAVE MYSELF

All you need is love..

All you need is to shut the **** up.

I need no one, but myself. I need to put the drugs and alcohol on the shelf, that is what I need to do, and I can’t do that with them, I can’t know that I am not going to do this again.

I can’t even be my own friend damn it.

I know, Damien.

I break up with me, every day.

I know, Damien.

I know, Amanda.

I know, me.

I know both of us.

I hate me too.

How the **** am I supposed to like anyone else if I can’t even look in the mirror, I hate everything and everyone because this sucks and it is hard, and you make me nervous because I know everyone is thinking the same damn thing that I think about me

YOU SUCK YOU SUCK YOU SUCK
You suck?

That’s what you think?

That’s what we think. They think. I think.

Do you think this is fun for anyone, who the **** would want to be around this? I don’t even want to and I am this…

Then stop doing it.

Oh.

What makes you most anxious?

I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..

Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant

To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…

I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…

and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..

I sleep in oblivion because obviously sleep must be partially that

Because I can’t remember it and that is oblivion right?

That is what is means?

Ob-liv-ion

obviously, I am a living ion.

That just popped into refutation

Def- the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening.

Haha. Universe slapping me in the ****ing face, arrogant ******* that I am

Oblivion

Deaf,

Hey Clearly, you hear me

Deaf?

Death?

Oblivion- the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening.

HISTORICAL•LAW

amnesty or pardon.

Why are you obsessed with the word ***hole?

Hmm… being dead or asleep, meaning having no power and receiving pardon or amnesty?

Sound familiar?

***hole.

Just realized I called myself my own ex-girlfriend…

Not intentional…

His name was Chris which is ironic, because he is a christian, so I think it is a set up somehow, like somehow someone is sending someone to spy on me and naming the characters they send after me in mocking style, because obviously I am that important right? Didn’t realize at the time, how ****ing narcissistic that was, and it is only now, that the paranoia is starting to fade, that there is not some secret plot to take me down specifically, because I am just a lying drug addict alcoholic, and I am not sure why being a serial killer sounded better than that… I have no idea.. it made me feel less powerless… I think.

I am very angry at myself about all this, because looking back at it, I realize how much of *** I was… how even though I thought I was always getting ripped of and deserved so much better, how much better could you expect your life to be when you are con-artist who panhandles for heroin, and basically tries to make people afraid to not give you money. I used to make 200 dollars a day doing this, the key was to look like you are going to rob them for more than they give you freely, and then if you get caught, you are a pretty girl, and you change your voice, and Damien is your ex boyfriend who put you up to it, and he hits you and you just want to get away.

I was such a piece of ****.

Damien

I used to look in the mirror and see myself, and I would look into my own eyes, and swear I could see me winking at me, and then I would black out and become someone else, and wake up doing and saying things I didn’t mean, that were not violent they just didn’t make sense, and I never hurt anyone physically, but just embarrassed myself, and I think that is what this is all about, it is about the fact that I have something wrong with me that makes people look at me different, and it is easier for me if that is because I caused it. I preferred to scare people away, before they ran away because I lash out at people, think things that are not true and am literally always living in a reality that in some way is not real, it was easier to be completely unreal, and violent towards myself and hate others, so I could fund things that took me away from how I feel.

I built my life around drugs after getting my degree, I literally gave up at 21 and was content with getting hammered and then doing coke and uppers and then my ex and I broke up the first one that I lived with, and I ripped him off for 950 dollars and bought heroin.

I lived with this person who I used with for 3 or 4 years, in a glorified trap house, and then moved out because he ripped me off with another person who lived with me on the streets till I started getting ripped off by him and then left and walked from Oregon to Cali.

The stories you will read on here going forward are mostly from Cali. I lived on the streets there for a couple months by myself. It was very interesting.

Damien

What activities do you lose yourself in?

I am standing on a street corner, this time metaphoric, not real.

I am looking into nothing, or myself, whichever one you choose, overcome

By voices, this time internal, not external, not externalized, not demons with painted on despise eyes, not lies or falsehoods, but inner truths, painted because I am listening to me and to you. I am listening closely, with intention to hear, because I have spent a long time, not doing so, with desire to unfeel.

I am wondering what it means, what I do, now that I am focused and listening to you. I am wondering if there is anything, anything at all to any of this for a personal who notices it all. I do not know where I fit in, if I do at all.

I am standing in the middle of also on the side. Existing in the middle, because before I did not have the time, I did not make a choice to listen before, to me, and to you, and am wondering simply in this place, where I stand, what am I to do?

I am told over and over, just watch and to be quiet, but I am confounded with the presence of a mind that exists in riot. I am not trying to assert myself, not this time, but simply to understand, what is the place for my dark mind?

I have been thinking a lot about the meaning of life recently, the idea of my will versus the world, and the idea of what it truly means to admit that I am not in control. I have a hard time understanding this concept, coupled with the concept of emotional honesty. I am trying to strike a balance in my head between the idea that I am not in control which makes me want to assert control and the whole honesty thing. I am stuck on the idea that my honest response is to fight against the universe, that I do not have control over, because to not respond honestly would be dishonest which means I would be faking it.

I am just collecting responses on the idea, I don’t know what I think of the whole thing, and would love to know what others think. Let me know if you have any thoughts.

I will be fine, just wondering if anyone has any thoughts on this…

How do I overcome processes I want to overcome, when they are so ingrained in me and making me miserable?

Feel free to tell me what you think, looking for opinions because I have no idea what the answer to this is.

Is this just something that comes with time and effort?

Extremely disturbing content: Meditation for myself- do not read if triggered by anything for lovers of abstract dark horror, not intended for those triggered by anything.

Explanation:

Trigger Warning: Mentions drug/alcohol abuse to show mental change in writer who is becoming less arrogant and better informed in recovery

Trigger Warning: I lied, this is a hallucination powered by Misery

Trigger Warning: Untrustworthy narrator.

Trigger Warning: Initiate simulated paranoid schizophrenia.

_______________________________________________________________________

Abstracting Abstract of Soul decay soul facts, revealed in meditating on meditative state of I am not so great but getting better.

and the realization of my word of fixation on fixes and the complications it placed on placement in reality..

Or I am an addict who lied to themselves… or I am an addict and engaged in addict thinking and am trying to live differently, by seeing clearly that I don’t know everything.

____________________________________________________________________________

I am. I was. I am not the same. I do not have the same thoughts. I do not have the same name. I have gone. I have left. I am permanently changed, I have severed all ties, I have cut out my eyes, I am never the same, permanently change, removal of stain. I have changed my stupid name. I am done, un-spun rewind-ed, rebind-ed, reminded, unconfined, un-twined

Mind designed by me, arrogant yes, but not, just addict caught in re-wiring, and desiring new thought, because FIRST THOUGHT WRONG.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tell me please, because I desire to know…. how does the world turn?

I don’t know? I was spun and spinning myself in perpetual orbit in

HELL of self in shell on shelf in HELL

PRISONER REALLY

Do you love me baby?

Tell me please? How do you love being on your

KNEES

BEND OVER AND ROLL OVER LIKE THE DOG THAT YOU ARE

___________________________________________________________________________

I do tricks, look at me.

I am fun.

I am unspun.

I am doggie!

____________________________________________________________________________Go to Hell.

____________________________________________________________________________

In a world of addiction an addict speaks in fiction to

_____________________________________________________________________

I see flat lines, and dead eyes
______________________________

Is she still still there?

SHE has never been ANYWHERE.

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.

https://wordpress.com/tag/thursday-inspiration

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

POISON

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

Click.

Click.

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.

Click go.

TRIGGER WARNING: About sex workers or prostitution, and revelation of moments of clarity, mentions drug use and is very graphic do not read if you can’t handle this. I am writing for my own recovery, and to cleanse my own mind and soul.

You were the last man to touch me for free, and now they will never touch me again, because I realize, I charged with the charge of a heart scarred by being untrue to me. I did not want to be with any of you at all. I was not that kind of… person. I charged for the scars to my arms, to my soul, to the eternal burning hole in everything that it is to be me, and give things heroically in falsehood because what I was really doing was buying letters carved in human skin that told stories of heroic-ness, but what I was really doing was sleeping with people for free drugs… nothing more nothing less.

We search your basement hideout for your **** which you already did, I know because we did it together, but you don’t remember this, because we were together for a second, being together in love with each other for the brief second that rocks are thrown on table,

Rock, paper scissor

Scissor, I cut you out of my life, toxic friend, and all men, that make me exchange sex for bitter rocks, cast at my soul.

I like women better anyway.

What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times?
Jurassic Park
Lion King
Matilda
The Witches
Disney’s Robin Hood
Matilda
Seinfeld
The Office
Derek
Afterlife

See Clearly- You hated yourself not your family silly, you were being mean because your mother loves you sooo much, even now after you were so mean to her.

I hated myself so much, that I created entire realities to justify this hatred, and forgot that those realities created beliefs that attached to very real people, who did very real things for me, like love and give me life. I had and have an excellent family. I was very loved, but my family is not perfect, and neither am I, we have fought a lot and I remember it differently sometimes, because I am guilty, and they say things that make me feel bad about myself because I am guilty not because I am trying to hate them or be bad, or lie, but because I am an addict and lying to myself comes naturally to me, because of flaws with my mind.

STOP MAKING EXCUSES AND ANSWER THE QUESTION

I am, just building back story to explain myself better

BUILDING UP REASONS FOR WHY YOU AREN’T AT FAULT FOR ASSERTIONS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE QUESTION

Okay, forgot what question was…

Wait….question….

What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times?

Above list are the movies I am watching with my mother, who is the best, and I love her. I am sorry, mom. You did the best you could with my crazy drug addict, alcoholic paranoid schizophrenic *** and I like watching movies with you, it is the best.

“There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful as we choose to make it.”

Richard Dawkins, The god Delusion

I had a friend of mine really help me today, they told me something that helped me realize why I have been having such a hard time. I think that I have to do everything the right way the first time, if I don’t I get frustrated and experience feelings of PTSD from trauma from addiction and I start to hallucinate, and think paranoid thoughts like the bananas in the advertising in the store are there to taunt me, because the people who run the store know I am a thief and know that I am there and are doing this at me to taunt me and people like me, because they hate us and its a conspiracy against us, perpetrated by them, who is everyone who is not us.

My friend told me that this is just symptom of PTSD and that it will get better if I learn to forgive myself gradually and then the guilt will go away which is actually behind these episodes. My point being that I was able to take a step back from this paranoid thinking, and realize what was going on, and take myself out it to the point where it stopped happening, this has never happened for me before. I am so happy for this being a thing for me. I really thought this was not ever possible. I thought I was not normal and not ever going to be able to permanently change, because I was broken in some way, my friend told me that is just addict thinking, not unique to me, and just saved me from ruining my own day.

Damien

Are you superstitious?

Yes, clearly.

I felt better as an internet serial killer, that was my version of The Punisher,

I live in fear of being happy, because I don’t want anything good because having things you want makes it so you can take them away from me. I don’t even want it to begin with damn it. Take it!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ll show you how much I don’t want it. I will make you all get away from me!

That is why I act the way I do. I am literally a child having a hissy fit, and I realized this today.

I never learned how to deal with things like an adult, so I am going through it now.

Sorry for the continuous explanation, I am explaining it to myself, really.

See Clearly,

Finally looking in the mirror.

Damien

I have parents, who love me, who I abandoned to go across the country doing drugs with my ex who then tried to do things to me that are unspeakable, and are being told in allegory because, **** he tried to do things that are so **** that I dare not reveal that much about him. I have never hurt anyone just myself and speak of murder and crime as a literally and therapy tool used in allegorical repressed rage, because I hate the situation on the streets of this country and wish I had done something instead of being out there getting high with people who died, or hurt people. I have never killed anyone, hurt anyone, other than myself. I just have repressed rage at me so I made myself out to be a recovering monster, because I am, but not a violent one, not to any one else, just my own soul.

This is the reason for my anonymity.

I do not want to cause danger anymore to my family who are not Damien’s but a very normal one, who did not deserve a drug addict/alcoholic who should just have admitted they were non-binary Damien/Amanda/gender queer/schizophrenic drug addict/alcoholic the whole time, then maybe I could have a last name on this site.

Damien/Amanda.