Bite me

Hello, you strange, ***hole.

I think they can still tell what the word is, Amanda.

I know they can still tell what the word is, that is kind of the point, all the word none of the guilt.

Isn’t that cheating?

Yes, not the point.

That is the entire point.

I think you might be right.

Emotional maturity is not usually my thing, this is kind of cool for a change. Hahahah!

Good job ruining it.

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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.

Facts.

Snake eyes, baby

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.

Burn me

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.

I made this sarcastically for you, and for whoever likes sarcasm.

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?

Thank you.

Are you sorry for anything?

Everything.

That’s very specific…

Isn’t it?

What do you mean?

That was sarcastic and not a question.

Lovely Technicolor Angels from Hell

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!’.

Yep.

Anti-psychotics

I am a polaroid.

I am really just annoyed.

No, take that back, I am overjoyed, elated really, because that is how I am supposed to be isn’t it?

I am supposed to have an attitude of gratitude right????!

I prefer honesty right now, and right now I feel like I got screwed by the universe, wrong body, that has emotional issues, hydrocephalus, hormone issues, arthritis, no gallbladder, nerve damage, knee problems, I lost interest in listing these, but believe me it goes on.

Cranberries are not dates.

I just thought that was a funny title, I like plays on words. I have been in a *****y mood because of chronic pain, from arthritis in my hands, it runs in my family and is made worse by me typing like a lunatic, and also the amputations of the tip of my thumb, part of my middle and index finger, that is due to heroin, meth and alcohol abuse.

I also have had probably 20 revisions of a VP shunt because I have hydrocephalus, so I am getting used to my normal pain level while not doing meth, heroin or drinking. I have never been sober/clean in my adult life, so I apologize for my continuous neurosis, complaining.

Explanation: This is a journal style entry full of negativity or negative self-talk that I am trying to write out of my head, read with that in mind, do not read if you cannot handle dark horror dramatized fiction.

This is for you baby, you make me insane, you live in my brain, oh voice of disdain, making fun of voice of complain, you are mean, but succeed in drain, drain, drain, all pain from me, so I guess I can thank ya, right? Yeah, right…

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

NSFW: EXPLICIT CONTENT: NOT FOR SENSITIVE READERS: The Writhing Agony of Whining Morons

My hands hurt, my head hurt, and my brain hurts, so I have spent the entire day in bed feeling sorry for myself ansd watching television, and just got sick of my relentless whining enough to make jokes about it on the internet, because it makes my own resentment, or the voice of every person I have dated, shut the **** up, if I do it to myself instead.

That is the explanation for the plot of the story that is my life, talking at myself or to myself to stop the screaming of my brain at myself.

That good enough for you, *****???

Hope so, maybe then I will be able to chill the **** out.

Hahaha, it is kind of funny now though, the relentless pile of verbal trash I hurl at my own face…

Yes, I don’t know why, other than when people ask me my pronouns, I am always tempted to say…

“You can call me whatever you like.”

Like we used to?

Yeah, exactly like that, except maybe minus the whispering in the ear part.

Well, obviously because I don’t think you are able to get that physically close to people.

Yeah, or on…..

Okay, enough.

Look at me, look at me, exercizing self-control, silly addict able to keep myself from plunging into dark vacant hole. I have done pretty good at keeping things out of my mouth or my veins, but really done nothing, other than simply abstain, and really done nothing except sit in a chair, and listen to people who have been here and there.

It is getting easier, I really must tell you, I am learning to love

I am a mix tape, I play over and over, and roll over

Everything else, so very much, that was obnoxious I hate everything I say, and wish I had someone else, so badly, but not, need to maintain distance, because love makes me rot, my brain, my brain, I am still insane, and so very vain, and obsessed with myself, I need to stop this, I am getting on my last

NERVE

NERVE

NERVE

Switch Off.

End Transmission.

I wish I could break up with myself, like I did with all the bottles and sewing needles on my shelf.

I am instead stuck with me, oh to be you, so wonderous and free.

Sofia, Sofia, for you I fall apart, with every fallen petal, you pain my heart. My sunflower goddess, my beauty, my dear, your smile, your sunlight, makes my pain severe, I miss you so badly, I loved your dear heart, but

I left you in New Mexico, fearing a start, at anything with you, so I left on day one, leaving not a trace of me, nothing but shun, I am sure you don’t care by now, because it has been many years, but thinking of how I felt with you, can bring me to tears, this is all pure selfishness, because you are better off, with someone, not me…

To be, to be, so wonderous and free, away, away, so sadly, I can’t break up with me..

My life is a mess,

I am now cleaning up.

My walls are wreck, I am scrubbing the walls, with the soap of recovery, maybe the stains will come off.

It will take awhile, but I trust it will work, with the power of realizing I have been such a jerk.

I trust something higher, than I could ever be, with that power I run forward, trusting it makes me free.

I see with blind eyes, I was a liar, I was a thief, I speak of madness, with eyes that were beseeched, consumed by addiction, plagued by lack, they saw nothing but soul under attack, they did nothing, but pace through blank space, slave to addiction, aiming to erase.

They were the eyes of a blind man, a person addicted, they saw nothing at all, they were plagued by a calling, and ever present, siren song.

I am ironic, my existence was pained, drawn to a calling to dive down the drain.

Now I am different, in way less pain, I am getting there by resolving the still present conflicts in my addict brain.

Back words and Foe Words

I am so happy, she is so great, I am so happy, don’t know if you relate. She is my best friend, I am her’s too, we will be together, forever with you, is what I say to her, because she is my first love, my sweet one, my honey, my lovely morning dove.

I love her forever, for all time, it will last.

What are you talking about? You left everyone we were with, I wanted to stay, and you made us leave.

This was about you.

Oh, thank you.

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…

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.

I exist beneath you, just like you wanted, residing in the idea of down, I am beneath you, honey. I am just where you wanted me, down here.

I am the idea of down.

I am the idea of on the ground, so low, so so

Low.

Solo, that could be said too, but always beneath you.

I am the burst bubble

I am the idea of too much trouble, because I am really.

I love everything about you, baby, so glad, so elated to have met you face to face, you are a creature of grace.

I am nothing, I am magic, I am an eye. I am a liar, I am crafter, I am wordsmith, I am an enchanter, I am the act of lying down, I am taking nothing standing. I am the idea of withstanding.

You are really ****ing arrogant.

Really, I had no idea.

That was great.

So am I.

Obviously.

I know, right.

I am full of hot air

Not a question?

Clearly, can’t you see?

***hole.

Pole or I’d

What you thought

What you did

What you thought

What I did

He is a liar

I am away

Forever and ever forgotten forgetter

I hate you Just in time

I am no longer addicted to dimes

I am a lie, I am the truth, I found a way, I am so ruthless, you are a liar, you tried to remove me.

Mother****er.

You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I win. I won. I win.

I am vengence, I am rage. I was in a cage, now I am always on a path away from you.

I am not sure why you didn’t come with me, baby. I thought you wanted to go, but you decided at the last minute to stay behind. I think it is okay, you seem to have gone through the same mental changes, so it does not matter that you didn’t go, so don’t feel bad.

I am sorry, I was on pause, I got scared. I was not able to..

To bring yourself to admit weakness? And you thought I was?

I glow gold with your lack of introspection, I am gold like stars beyond lights protection, I dance in darkness, like you cannot, I glitter with sparkle, while you are contaminated with soul rot.

Wow, that was mean.

I know, but that is how I feel about myself.

I am gold, and you are lack, I am a soul attack

Wow, that was mean. I know, but that is what I think about me.

You are talking about me too you know.

No, I am talking only to me. I am half of you, remember?

Okay, but you are still wrong.

That just furthers my point.

How many times have you been me? How many times have I been you?

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.

I am always here, never there, because I am always here.

Always, and never, always and never

Always

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.

Cool?

That’s all?

Yes?

Cool.

***hole.

Cool!

That one was actually such a peice of **** thing to say, I remembered why I like you.

She wore a yellow address, because she was happy, which makes me mad, because I am an ***hole, who is very sad.

How dare you enjoy life? I cannot, I am addicted to strife, or to strive, or to striving or to seeming

So so so

Alive.

That sounded insane.

I know. Isn’t it great.

No.

Ouch.

I actually did think it did, you just gross me out.

I know, because I am your own self-love, or the rabid dog version of it, which is a funny way of saying narcissistic personality disorder.

I am married to myself.

Look at me, as I talk like two different people who are divorced.

Dancing sirens at the ocean.

Make me think of my devotion, to nothing but myself.

Ouch, I burned myself.

That is really ****ing accurate.

Isn’t it?

Yes.

That is why people thought I was your ex-boyfriend.

You kind of are.

How?

I don’t really know.

Me neither. I think I would be your ex-husband not boyfriend.

Hahah. The ring of power.

I once was green, but now am sad, because I am a drug addict and alcoholic, fantasizing about being hung over instead of sad, because that is better?

I am.. weird… I don’t get it either…

I am small, because fantasies of being hung over are insane;.

Excuses are small, which is why this is image is too, I re-colored it with narcissism, didn’t take the photo because I sold my camera for drugs.

I like green, but also blue, I like to change things, it is what I do.

Color me clearly, I am not her. I know you are not, but you once were, I am using someone else’s image, which is a metaphor within a metaphor within a meta for.

I don’t know what that means, but it sounded interesting. I don’t know what I am, but I sound interesting sometimes. I think.

I am blue, because I am sad, but that makes me uncomfortable, so let’s call it mad, or rage.

Fear. fear. fear.

Things you should not say while tripping or falling or tripping or falling.

I am everything that makes people not hear me.

I am screaming, get away from me.

If there are no people around, I don’t have to be something I am not, which is everything I am, or look like anyway.

The narrator hates themself.

You are the narrator too.

I am not responsible for what you do.

I am not responsible for you do either.

Addict. Addict. Addict.

Telling lies, telling lies, accountability, accountability, life of despise.

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 ****.

So sad, too bad, I can’t see anything clearly, so dreary, so learly, letters from See Clearly

I love you person I don’t know, because you are beautiful and glow, with colors of say it isn’t… anyone I met, so you are not dead to me yet, because you simply don’t exist, you are idea of bliss or chaotic death either one because I know I ****, and am horrible at everything so I ruin anything I have and would ruin things with you too, and that no longer makes me sad, because I am

Insane, and engaged in a worship of myself, or with items on my shelf, that I threw out for now because I… actually they got stolen… and it was

Really ****y, but you are really pretty, for a second you make me think of something else,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I love you so,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I wish I could forget you,

And not be writing love poems to a woman who is really a metaphor for how I am a pathetic loser.

Ahahahhah.

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.

Blade of

Oh, quiet, you kill me, so slowly, so sweetly, so very completely.

Grass…. grass…

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

I am staring down…….

I made wallpaper out of trees, I made paper out of life

I am silent reflection, and oh, that looks… so……… fun…

Not wanting to die, but wanting for five seconds to feel anything, so much more…

IiIIIIIIIIIInnnnttteressst…………..

ING

Than the bore that is everyday life.

This is my life everyday, bored as hell, wanting to chase cars like a dog, so I regret nothing, because I am

PERPETUALLY about to jump in front of a car, or off a building, and anything anything at all that keeps me from doing exactly that from hurting myself or snapping like a twig into two peices

We are already two peices, I think we may be four.

Correct

I am an addict of everything, literally everything, right now Advil, Aleve, Caffeine, nocotine, and Benadryl, which is way better than heroin, meth, oxycoton, alcohol, and tobacco. I can run as hobby in a way that is addictive, I run till I literally almost keel over and it feels like doing a shot of heroin, because your body releases seratonin while it is about to have a heart attack. I run in front of cars sometimes, because the release of endorphins feels like doing uppers. That being said, I do not regret my life of addiction, because I would have gone insane if I didn’t do it.

Start writing… I will not do what you tell me, anything, but what you tell me, anything at all, but what you tell me to do, oh, myself, I hate you so very much.

I am purple, I am green. I am self-love, interpreted completely wrong, because I need to see a therapist.

I love you so much, you turn my heart to dust, I trust nothing more than you, I love everything you do.

You sound psychotic.

You do too.

I love you too, by the way, so glad we are okay.

How do you unwind after a demanding day?

I used to fire drugs, play games with thugs, and sweep pain under rugs, now I am resigned to a life of pain, as long as it does not go down the drain again. I am no longer alone, I remembered I don’t need a phone, because I am my own best friend.

I never have to be alone again.

I am the nuerotic psychotic, who saw a nuerologist, psychologist and got the gist of the meaning of all of this.

I have a nuerologist, therapist, primary care doctor and am going to be on medication in two weeks, my shunt is functioning, found out I will live with this level of chronic pain the rest of my life and just have never experienced it as an adult because I was always too messed up to know what it was like as an adult. Have not been sober since I was a child.

This is for you, baby

I am in love with the sun, apparently, I like that it burns me.

I love your UV rays, hurt me baby please, bring me to my knees, I am begging you please, oh please kill me, I am so in love with my own disease.

I love to exist in decline. I am resigned to

SICK

MIND

In bind with time, I sit in

D

Clin

ING

Spinning freely

You are such an idiot.

I know, but I am writing this for you, because I LOVE

You are just making an *** of yourself.

I don’t care, I am just writing love letters to myself in public, so of course I am making an *** of myself.

Disorder personality, how do I reassemble thee?

Why do you care?

Because I hate it when people stare at me.

Then why are you making an *** of yourself online?

Point taken.

She tells me she is crazy

She wants to make me fear her, fear what she will do to me if I do what?

I care about none of this.

hahahahahhahahhahahhahahahhahhahahhahhahahhahahha

I don’t think she knows what the word insanity means, I exist in your bad dreams, I am everything that is just frightening enough to make you go away, so I can stay forever alone, alone, alone, by myself in my own HELL.

I am digital re-touch

I am nightmares never dreams

I am finding self-loathing in everything

Because I am oh, so good at bad dreams

You are screaming at me, and I am seeing this, such a tragic reaction my mind has to the rage of others, making it impossible to hear anything they are saying…

You have no power over me, I live in HELL, you are all bad dreams, meaning nothing, because neither do I

You think you can make me cry.

Oh, so sad.. I have something in my eye… I

don’t cry for anyone anymore, my entire life is garbage on the floor of HELL

You don’t like me, leave then, don’t care, just as well, not changing for anyone, never again. I can be my own best friend, you think I need you.

I need nothing, I would rather die than live in your reality of soul sucking.

GO TO HELL or actually, don’t that’s where I live, and you deserve

soooooooo much better…………

I see you, but I do not, I just know that your hate for me is something I don’t give TWO ***** about.

and I don’t like being burned so I go here, to my own perpetual land of jeer, of making fun of everything around, including me, and ignoring sound,

You hate me do you, do you really? I see it on you ****ing clearly, I don’t know what it was I said, silly girl, wishing I was dead, you can’t kill me with your words. I can’t even kill myself with myself with my ****ing hands, and believe me I have tried.

I love you baby, you drive me crazy

So we are doing this again?

Yeah, we are. We best friends. I love you over, and over, and over again. Hahahahaha!

You know this is just ego stroking right?

I know it is, and it makes me feel better.

Everyone outside this screen likes us better as us not just me and not just you.

I think I did fine by myself.

I think you did better than me.

I know I did better than you.

***hole.

Staring into the murky depths

Paint me with ghostly luminance, paint me with loss, paint me with cost, paint with the payment for a life spent sauced.

Not to long ago, but not tonight, and on that night, not tonight, I was alright with the fact that I was alone, laying there with no one because I felt the universe cradling me with the moss on the ground and the resounding sound of the crickets, the anticipated sounds of morning doves..

On that night, not tonight, I didn’t feel alone at all, just simply by myself, with the universe, but not alone….

On that night, not tonight, I was aware of the existence of time, and the fact that life and living was a story, a continuous ever changing story with many players, that I was simply a part of not the center of, and in this story, for whatever reason I was alone because everyone happened to be doing something else…

On that night, not tonight, every thing was alright me.

I remember this, tonight, when I am deeply lonely, right now, looking out at a world that I caused to be away from me by my own selfishness… that I pushed away by own drug seeking and drinking… I wish for that night not tonight.

I met you and you were the one I was interested in not your stupid friend who had all the items, you thought I wanted. I wanted none of that.

I initially followed you, and only you, and your very deliberate foward walking, and your confidence, wearing high heals in a snow storm, and scooping up almost dead homeless me off the side of the road in the middle of the night, so I didn’t appreciate it when you told me, you thought I wanted anything else from you other than your company.

You loved misery’s company, me needing you was comforting.

I was to you what I was to lots of those, a wounded bird who is only useful with broken legs.

So strange, the level to which some people are addicted to pain, myself included.

That is why I left, and when you chased me in the streets that night, running around looking for me, after telling me you didn’t want to mess things up with him, after he had tried to set things up with me, that is why I left, not some sort of strange running from anything else.

I was running from ruining your life, like I always ruin every woman’s life.

I am good at falling down, not good at getting up.

I hate this right now, I am having a really hard time.

I have a dental appointment tomorrow, and am just worried about having a ride there, because I am not the ride there, which is my fault for having ruined my own life, and being dependant on others, but it is driving me crazy. I don’t think other people are out to get me right now, but I have such a hard time with having to be dependant on the circumstances of other people.

I am an idiot, this blows…

I am so good at living in darkness, so bad at living in light.

I think I drag myself into darkness, because of my love of the act of perpetual fight.

I am an addict of suffering, addicted to my own pain.

I hate myself sometimes for having put myself in this position, I just want to be in control of my own life again, and not have to worry about how things are going to happen, which I should not be doing anyway.

I just wish I hadn’t put myself in this position, it is very difficult, and what I was running from the entire time.

I was trying so hard to get to a place where I was in control of my own life… I literally tried every possible thing…… I just wish I knew what was going to happen… I hate this…

A lone, Alone, A lone, Alone

I miss you, person who I thought was real, but what I really miss was never real to begin with, the idea of being loved at all, ever, which was never real at all.

You were not real, you were never who I thought you were, because I was never real, not before now, so this is and has always been, all my fault, which doesn’t matter, but I keep thinking it, that I tragically hurt my own self.. I have a problem with the word feelings, I don’t like admitting I have those.

---

And now this

---

Please help me, everything that is above me, because I am done with being angry…

---

And now this

---

There is a flower, that exists somewhere, in the jungle, that I need to find, because it will cure a disease of my mind.

I don’t know what is, or what it does, just simply that it exists somewhere and that I am looking for it.

Is that a problem, ***hole?

No, I am happy for you.

Yeah, duh… I am you.

Ahahhahha

You sound like me.

I am you.

That is a very strange way of saying my birthday is in 2 days.

I was born when you were 8.

True.

Untitled

Agony of root of the material of forgetting to take of things: OCD I wanted all these together for some reason, I am insane right now, sorry

I am tragic recolor,

Color me, clearly.

With clarity.

No, with madness, or the use of your ex’s name in a backward will exertion about clarity.

So about insanity then.

Battling bird

Who are you fighting.

No one, just playing around.

Daily writing prompt

If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why?

View all responses

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 am dumb

Look at me

I am dumb

I can’t see

Just spilled soup all over my hands, so obviously that is everyone else’s fault not mine… hahahaahahah.

Guess who is still winning….

Resentment? Pride?

Jab. Ow. You got me. I was trying to talk to you anyway.

I am glad, I was having fun watching you burn yourself, and felt bad about it.

I am a tile on the floor of time, I spent my life on pursuit of dime in bag, not diamond bag.

I know, I am having issues, I think it is just what my brain does.

Having a hard time being alone?

Yeah, kinda.

I am too.

Is that why you are talking to yourself on a dark screen?

***hole.

What?

Isn’t that what you are doing?

Yeah..

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.

Wow. Facts.

The fire of firing fire

The fire of addict’s desire

I light my own funeral pyre

I am done, done, done

Unspun, undun.

So done.

This is all reflection

On a life retossed

I was blind, my whole life, I was blind lived in self-inflicted strife. I was blind. I was blind. I had no eyes, couldn’t see, I had eyes but they were blacked out, they were blurry, couldn’t see. I was blind couldn’t see. Clearly.

I walked through life, walking slow, walking fast, running away, running to, running from, running with, running, runnning, on nothing, no road, no path, nothing, nothing, nothing.

I was nothing. I was nothing.

I was nothing. I was nothing.

I was with him, I was with you.

I was ran. I was running.

On nothing, with someone who was me, who is me.

I ran to things, towards things, and for things.

Just elation, addicted to derived sensation. Nothing more, nothing less, no crime, just desire to injest.

In jest.

I thought it was 10 am, guess my internal clock is off now, oops. Um… huh.. okay, I think is because of the whole root canal thing, which I think I have to get the rest of the thing done tomorrow, or I have something tomorrow? I am not quite sure… I am really confused… really thought it was 10 am… this is weird..

Um….. wtf….

be back soon.. maybe? I have to figure out what my internal clock wants to do now. WEIRD…………….

All for you, Damien.

Yeah it does, and you were never a skinny narcissist.

OoO sick burn.

No, dufus, you were always my friend.

Heh.

What you don’t like being my friend now?

No, I am just not used to kindness.

Ouch.

You deserve that one, who made me look like an abusive ex-boyfriend??

You did actually…

That’s true…

Paranoid.

Paranoid.

Who is annoyed with paranoid.

I am condescending. I

I, I, I,

am the human soul.

I am Amanda Fried by self.

I am life on selfish shelf.

ahahahhahhahahahhahahhaahhhahahhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhhahahahhhhahahahhahahahhahhahhahahhahahhhahhahahhahhahahahahhahahhhhahhhahhahahhahhaha

Insanity comes in color.

I am paint by number.

She’s a family member, and I am Fruedian Slipping, and I am a liar, and the girl I am a part of is Crazy.

You are such a jerk.

I know, but it is called telling the truth, ***hole.

You are the ***hole.

I am telling the truth, so I don’t CARE.

Okay, fine, you can be okay with the fact that you were pretending to be dating my mother, who is your mother.

Ahahahahhahahahah you are a lunatic.

I am Macbeth.

I forgot which one of us is you again.

I am riddled with lack, I am the lack of soul, which comes with condescending attack. I am the power of demise, I speak with eyes of despise. I am misery in carnate raw form, I am dead man’s scorn. I am war torn. I am forlong, I am dark thorn, in shoe of human being with very precious heart. I am fear of start. I am the smart.

You are a liar, who has no soul to be on fire, and you will not get mine, you are death, and you can stay the HELL away from me, because I aim to breathe, I breathe breath that comes with shedding fear, and walking away from beer or heroin or crack or meth or weed or anything that makes me so afraid to be without it that I desire to talk to you at all, things that makes all things small, so it can be tall. You have no legs. You can’t stand without piggy backing on my back, herder of swine. You are mine, I am not yours.

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.

Eat honey

I eat honey, I am sweet, in this act, I am complete. I eat sweetness. I resign. I live in hole. I am not divine. I eat sweetness, cause decay, I am a bee. I sting, and make pain stay.

I cause infection, I can cause death. I make sweet items, and fill request, for sweet honey, wanted by man. I am a creature and have legs to stand.

I am a creature, that dances on flower, I create item, which soul devours. I dance on flowers, that cause joy, but I am also Hell’s toy.

That is were I write from, metaphorically, and physically, always and forever, well not really… sometimes… I write from under the bridges, or under ground, or under tree cover, but those times I write on walls, about things that do not belong on the internet.

And now this…

Are you resigned?

Clearly. It is in my name. Or in hers, which is now mine, always and forever, always and forever. I stole it because she doesn’t want it anymore, she never was a writer anyway, just wanted to help me, by making everything that was mine hers, like my voice. I am not saying writing is mine, by the way, but she wanted to use my voice, to reach people, she told me this, so we could make money, she said it was to help me.

Hahahahhahhahahhahahhahhahhahahhahahhahahhahhahahahhahhahhhhahahahhshhsh

Yeah right. It really helps me doesn’t it. Not a question, because it doesn’t.

I hope she is happy with that **** who stole my money. I hope they had a lot of fun with all 60 dollars of it.

It only took me 2 hours to get it anyway, standing on a corner, holding a sign. They were always jealous of that. I told them, its simple. People help me because I am ****ing insane.

I am fine with it, my recent discovery that I am completely insane. I am not going to fight it anymore. I have become resigned to it, I guess… I am just going to go with the flow of a river that has long since overtaken me, maybe I can get somewhere with it, intead of fighting against it , and being caught in a continuous treading of water, I dreaded being in to begin with.

I think the thing that has always been at my neck, threatening to strangle the very life out of me, is why am I here to begin with? If my reality is what it is…why didn’t I die long before this happened… what is the point to any of this, and is there any point to me at all, other than the continuous annoyance that my existence is to those who see clearer than I do.

Where the **** do people like me fit into anything??? Or do we at all???

Why would anything allow my continued existence, if it is based on invalid view point, if any one has an answer.. please share, I have no idea what I am even doing at this point.

This is really annoying.

Yeah, for me too. They hurt for me too.

I am realizing I no longer care which one of us is talking.

So you stopped trying to keep track?

Me too by the way, it is so much more peaceful, haha, I almost spelled that peiceful. INSANITY.

Yeah, I would say so, or just that you can’t spell?

I can ****ing spell, better than you.

So insanity is more comfortable than inability to spell, interesting.

**** you.

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

View all responses

I am trying, really I am.. I am telling this to myself right now, because I either beat the **** out of myself or worship the ground I walk on, which is insane because that would mean I am always stepping on my own self, which is true I guess… because my lack of introspection does exactly that. I guess that is why I have characteristically had very few friends, because I have a method of dealing with conflict that is basically I don’t deal with, get mad and repress my own emotions until I am screaming on internet about doing things that make me hate myself? I see a pattern here… Wow that helped.

I guess it is something I didn’t understand too, and I am one of those people or them or meth thinking. them and meth are the same word rearranged by the way, released this when I was really freaking high, thought it was cool till I realized that it was all a metaphor for me destroying myself with drugs.

Daily writing prompt

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

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Fail. I started hallucinating when I was eight years old, back then I was hardly able to do it because I thought the voices were talking to me because I was writing, so I would get scared and stop doing it. It happened like that for years, this blog is my first attempt at doing it actually. I like the blog format because it makes it possible for to write in stream of consciousness, where I am basically word vomiting hallucinations onto a page. That gets the auditory hallucination thing under control which keeps me from visually hallucinating.

All this is why I wanted to be exactly what I am but minus what is wrong with me. I have spent my whole life self-medicating this and done nothing with my life, other than abuse drugs and alcohol, and at least I got that out out of my system.

I think five year old me would be okay with me, given everything that happened. Oh, and five year old me used to tell people her name was Damien by the way, so at least there’s that.

GET OUT. NSFW.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1837

I would rather cut out both my eyes, so I can’t see to organize than I would do what you say with my stuff, I’ll throw it out, now go away.

I rather do that than hear your voice, telling me where to put it, like it it’s your choice. I do not need your help. I do not care, what you say about where to put what away.

It’s a mess, and I don’t care, what you say, and will not put that there. I don’t want advice, just to be left alone, give me back my stupid old phone. It has stuff on it that like, and yes it works, and I know I have two, but I do not want to deal with you, so get out now, go away.

It’s a mess because I am too, and I don’t want to deal with you, and will not listen to what you say, so throw it out and go, scram, stray.

Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.

I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.

I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.

I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.

I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.

I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.

This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.

Misery cycle.

Mercy cycle is harder.

I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.

https://wordpress.com/tag/ragtag-daily-prompt

I am going to try an experiment. I am going to try just giving up control and dealing with fear itself. Go.

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…

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

I am your brain on drain, on chaos reign

On meditate on pain

On mind gone in sane

An dilation of an inpatient who is not patient because I am a lunatic who used to use drugs to silence my thoughts and now I live in perpetual CHAOS

Are you having a bad day?

No, actually… GET AWAY

I am just the experience of chaos thought, I am having a continuous experience of this over and over and over.

One word that describes me

INSANE

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

A journey through MISERY

PUSH
PLUNGER
GO
ON THE EYE OF A NEEDLE
RIGGED WITH SPENDTHRIFT
DEATH

Forgetting is a tragic problem I have, but it is getting better, as my ego dies, and I open my eyes to the fact that I could not see, because I was sick and deranged by a disease strange and prone to mange and change human form, to distort and contort the human body, and make it unrecognizable to the have-

er of one.

I have been know as a chaos chaser of dragons, a pusher of substance, and prayer in holes of foxes, in ditches, in alleyways, a shooter of heroes, and a placer of ins and outs in acts heroic so I can go without doing them, pushing them in with sowing needles that stitch me out and in to a quilted madness in the bed I was making and would have to lie in and lay in, in death.

I have come to a place now where I can go home as well, well too.

This home allows the chaotic night to continue without my pushing assertion of madness, and it is a little quieter minus one night crier night crawler, who now sleeps and dreams.

What is one word that describes you?

DUDE. NO WAY. I KNOW I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT **** my other answer, I did not remember this when posting it.

THIS RULES. I AM NOT FAILING TODAY!

Sobriety Calculator

https://www.recoveryconnection.com/recovery-tools/sobriety-calculator/

I am putting this in here so I remember where to find this.

Dude, no way. In 3 days, I will have 90 days, I never get past 61. NO ****ing way. I can’t believe that ****. I can’t believe that my reaction is a mental high five, and writing this on here, and not running for the door and ruining it. ****, I am going to make it to 90 days. I am actually able to do this. I can’t believe this. I actually want this, which means I am not full of ****, which means I am not as much of **** as I thought.

This means I actually deserve to pick up the scattered road kill, that is my soul, dust it off and put it back together.

I can’t believe this… I thought I would have failed by now.

I am so ****ing proud of myself right now, I have never made it this long, and I feel good about this, I am not such a bad person after all.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/22/your-daily-word-prompt-Particular-ydwordprompt-March-22-2023/

Trigger warning: This is about drug seeking and effects on my ability to be confident in friendships I have, due to emotional immaturity. Drugs mentioned. Do not read if sensitive to this kind of thing.

For no particular reason, I am very sad right now, so I think about the particles in the universe, I think about pieces of sand, so tiny, and so together, part of a body of sand, and I long to be a particle of sand, that is part of something else, and never alone, but I am always alone now, and I am so sad.

I say no particular reason, but that is a lie, I know exactly the reason why I am alone, I chose this every time I used the phone to call someone to pack away all the feelings I have, everything I want to say with acquisition instead of inquisitive mission to know anyone but those who are on a mission, now I am in a peculiar position. I don’t know how to make friends, and I know I already have them, but I don’t know how to have them, I don’t know what to do next, so I am stuck in the land of anxious guess, addicted to pain, and in a land of washing rain, why can’t it wash away the stains on my damaged brain. I feel like I will always be insane.

In vein. In vain. In vein. In pain. Disdain. No more pain. Please send me soul cleansing rain.

https://gmgblog.ca/2023/03/20/five-word-weekly-challenge-2312/

Need an outlet, I am spinning tales of death to distract myself from what I am really thinking. It is 9:24 on the east coast……. and I am sitting staring into the darkness of this screen, thinking of how much I long for something, out of sickness…. I long for you… oh spindle of silence,

Heroin, oh heroin, I love you so,

Heroin, oh heroin, why must I say no?

Why, must I long for you for the sweet kiss of death every night at this time?

It is an insane release of tension to write dark horror. I don’t care what anyone thinks… I am going to do what I want now. I am an ***.

I am trying to be more honest and am not going to do the whole fake it thing, I am still the same **** with dark thoughts, I think the key is to find outlets for my rage issues and not hurt myself or bite people’s heads off. I think it is a good outlet for repressed aggression and makes it easier for me to not lash out at people around me. I am very passive aggressive and have a lot of repressed rage I channel into writing…

Sorry.

Damien

I am learning that my strongest failure was resistance, a frantic running against the tide of the ocean, frantic drowning, instead of flowing with the tide and riding waves peacefully to shore, it’s funny, I am a good swimmer, I am not good at drowning.. I know this because I em.. have tried, and found myself so enthralled by the ocean, that I forgot I was trying to drown. This is an excellent way of explaining through poetic metaphor how it feels to be me now. I started reaching out to people around me, anyone I could really, desperate for distraction from a world that I already was not around anyway. I was enthralled by frantic fantasy off screaming into nothing, thinking myself so free, because in my delusional habit based state, I failed to see that I was being nothing more than a habitual sleepwalker. I have been asleep walker most of my life, thinking the world was so awful that I thought I found it preferable to exist in some sort of extended across the universe dilated dream state of chaotic extension. I figured out recently that this was causing a fragmentation of my brain, that was breaking me.

I have lost pieces of myself in this process, but I owe it to the universe, and its genius ability to have a will stronger than the will of the psychotic night crier of the dying man of madness, for having a plan in mind that was stronger than anything that I could push against it.

I have gained all this insight through nothing of my own power, but through simply this, I told the powers higher than me, speak through me, my hands are yours. Tell them what they need to hear, or whatever you want me to say. I am a tool of mercy. I hope I find others who will do the same, I find more and more of them every day.

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.

I have heard this in my head for a long time. I have always wondered what it means. I do not know why I hear it, but I am starting to be able to venture towards some sort of a guess. I think most of my life I have used my ability to use words to get people to do things that facilitate my addiction. I was a manipulator of the human word, serving myself in heaped on pain through being chained to a misery god that desired only my suffering. I did not realize this at the time. I thought it was giving me the ability to survive. I did not realize it was quite the opposite. It was trying to keep me just alive enough and feeding on my suffering while something else, something good kept me alive. I owe my life to that something good, and its sad, I have cursed the something good and served the misery virus in my soul.

I have a very backwards way of thinking, or I did. Now I don’t.

I want now only to bring kindness into this world. It does not make sense to do otherwise.

I am free. I am so happy.

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

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

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.

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.

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.

I am learning that I was stuck in a cycle, going down the drain, a cycle that I am not out of, but aware of now. I am still in the cycle, I just can catch myself when I realize I am about to disappear down the drain, the whole honesty thing is really powerful. I am crazy so I really believed I was doomed and would always be alone, stuck in my psycho delusions, ranting to myself about not being at fault, knowing that it was my weakness, and desire to assert instead of show strength that caused my drain circling. I am learning that like this metaphor, such is my life. I figured out through everything going on with me, that I am able to let poison out and let it go down the drain without having to go down the drain completely, myself. I am a human being and there are no drains that fit human beings down them, because that is not necessary.

I know this after the chaotic torture fest that has been the contents of this blog. I am so thankful I did this, I don’t think I would be alive right now if I had not written this down, and am thankful every day, for all of you, all of this, and a life that is very much worth starting over.

Yours,

Damien/Amanda

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

I am listening, and I have an instant reaction to something you say, and I react and for a second feel okay, I was honest at least, that’s a step right? I am not lying, I am being honest. I am okay with the world and feel like I am doing the right thing.

Then I think about what I said, and the whole world lights on fire, a fire not burning with flame, but with different colors, that I have never seen before, because I have never experienced a world of color before. I have always lived in black and white, never dealing with light of day, with human being, ruler of land of push away. I sit and agonize over things that are tiny and stupid, and then resent myself for doing it, no one does this. No one has to, they are not stupid. I am stupid and think about stupid things.

Then I realize that they know that I do this, and I think I am in some way better than those around me, and that the fact that I do this makes me superior to them, and that if they only knew how specifically hard to be very specifically me it was they would

DRINK USE TOO

I just got this, that this is the process of what I usually do, and that by taking a step back and not hating myself for doing it… helped me. Thank you random stranger in the park that told me this.

What makes you most anxious?

Time makes me scream, it makes me dream of things that don’t make sense or cents, that is not true liar, you have made plenty of money in time.

Yeah, but I spent it all on dimes.. I traded it in for dimes at the cash machine.

I am such a ****.

My life is a long episode of Jerry Springer.

************************************************************************

I heard that one in my head, and it made me….

Throw up?

No, that was because your stomach is ****ed!

Yeah, because VODKA SUCKS!
Good one.

Clearly.

I congratulate me on a day where I was only an ***hole last night, and complimented random individuals in the food store aggressively.

They seemed confused.

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 have OCD, along with the other litany of problems I have already listed here, heh. I got my hair cut, which is awesome because I didn’t have to pay someone in drugs to shave it all off because homeless people can’t cut hair, and I wasn’t so itchy that this would seem like a necessary choice, so yay me for getting my haircut and getting a normal hair cut so I don’t have to shave my head again. That sucked, I think I mentioned the whole mohawk **** thing… but if I didn’t some ***hole shaved my head into a split in half mohawk, and told everyone to look for mohawk ****.

Short sweet, and very fun for mohawk ****. I got a lot of sympathy, and a lot of free items.. and they found out the wrath of mohawk ****. Then mohawk **** needed to leave, because there was a rumor that I had a twin and one of us was a girl and the other was a guy and the only difference was the voice… convenient… till they found out we were both the same person and it was me beating my ass not my twin brother or vice versa… very bad con…

I threw my phone in the river at around the same time because I thought someone tapped it looking for mohawk **** because tricking junkies is a high crime… and people really give a **** about that kind of thing…. or something I thought when I was way too high…

My dad is a really great person, we had a really good time, he was talking to me about his life, making me laugh, and we went to a really good restaurant and I told him I am done with drugs and booze the rest of my life. I also got to make plans with my uncle to see him at Christmas for the first time in ten years, and say I was sorry for being a lying ***hole.

All in all a successful day for mohawk ****, or me with a shorter hair cut that looks nothing like that at all.

Peace

Damien.

I just got back from hanging out with my dad, and it is cool how different things are now that I am trying to makes things right, I talked to him about all the chaos that I caused, continue to cause because I am prone to delusions, and how sorry I am. I noticed that saying things like this keep me from drinking, keep me coming back to a place, where I can stop beating myself up and are making it possible for me to walk out of the woods where I kept taking the wrong path on purpose and falling in random holes because I thought I was going to find secret gold in rocks I found on the ground.

I think the metaphor for drug addiction and eating rocks and drinking poison instead of doing the simple thing of eating food and drinking water is hilarious. I can’t believe how much my thinking has changed. It’s funny I was convinced everyone is out to get me when this is more true…

Them

Meth

Same word re-arranged…

Item

Time

Same word re-arranged.

Heroin

Hero in pushed together it forms a drug

Divided it references a hero in me

Heroine with an everlasting e it makes me a hero for saving my own life.

Funny right?

Explanation: Shocking, I am trusted to not have to leave, if there is no one here to watch me…

Now this…

Pond, not Stream of Chaos

I am a duck, apparently, because unknowingly

I have been teaching myself to be less

BANG EXPLODE

Like that, so now I can be alone, and not have people

Worry about me, which is

EXCELLENT

Because it also makes me trust me

_______________________________________________________________

I used to be constantly floating from place to place,

In a race with the human race to consume my tomb in the form of drugs and doom and alcohol which I would viciously consume, in doomed ferocious style, in front of all I know

sowing shame and guilt while also showing pain and guilt through vicious attack on self but also on others eyes, making people cry without knowing why because I am selfish. I am becoming not

I think… I guess.. don’t know…

_________________________________________________

I am a duck in a pond, that is just okay enough with me for now, to not drown

I am not going down

Because I don’t want to

Un-spun I am no longer undone.

I am glad to be trusted, un-dusted, still rusted, but dusting off.

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 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

I began training my dog to help me with a personal mission. I wanted to hunt wild boar. It was not just for me, but for her so she would stop chewing on my leg and her leg, because I was paranoid she wanted to eat mine, so I thought maybe she could eat a wild boar’s leg instead.

When I am lucid, I know that she never had any intention, of chewing off anyone’s leg,

Not mine, not a wild boar, not hers

I just thought of this because I am

INSANE

I have a functional brain that works most of the time, but sometimes

IT DOESN’T

And there is no fear in me to admit

WEAKNESS

Anymore, because I have realized that the

WEAKNESS

I had was in my failure to admit things, not in admitting them or making them into other things, in creative metaphor to slay like metaphorical dragons, I was just experiencing

FEAR

And I am no longer

AFRAID

Or have to roll around in

AGONY

Because I cast out these metaphorical demons on a black screen.

I am your admission that your guilt is real,

I am your recognition that your dragons represent guilt erected into a false sense of pride and shame blame that explains why you

FAILED

But I am also your strength in admitting this and

Casting it out.

I am an inner demon, I am a deep seeded hatred, I am a future projection,

I am what you feel, I am who you are, I am who you are in the process of seeing

I am you. I am fighting you

To be real

Because you are an addict addicted to the things that make me

UNREAL

Making you unreal with a desire to un-feel.

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?

But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning around

“Fool on the Hill” The Beatles

I have been sitting alone in the park during the day, watching people.

They talk to each other about their lives and relay stories of their adventures, talk about their achievements, talk about their fears, their hopes, their dreams, asking each other for opinions on what they should do, and learning from each other in the conversations they share in the moments I catch them talking to each other.

I do not always see the same people, they are all different, but I sit on the same bench in the same spot every day, so sometimes I catch the dialogues of people I remember, their episodic lives play out in front of me, a silent observer of the human drama, I am divorced from, without ever being brave enough to marry it.

I caught someone watching me today, watching me watching them, and I wonder why they were watching me. What was I doing other than watching others? Was it that I was watching others that interested them? Were they watching me watch others? And where does this end? Was someone watching both of us watching others?

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.

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.

Of course.

Peace. I am okay now, and everything is about me, and I just hit my vape way too hard. Ow… dizzy.

Are you superstitious?
Yes, clearly.

There is an eye in the sky and it is up so high, that I can’t reach it, can’t poke it

Can’t kiss it or stroke it…

Stupid jerk who strokes an eye?

I stroke an I.

Your gross, you stroke yourself?

Yeah, loser, you are doing it right now.

EGO EGO EGO EGO I go I go I go I go

ANSWER ME: Okay, here, I am very superstitious. I come from a long line of a family, who believes in

1. the evil eye
2. manifesting their own destiny through thought
3. being able to manifest it through speaking it out loud
4. being able to manifest it through thinking it
5. the power of positive thinking
6. the power of negative thinking
7. making lists that make things go away
8. incantations that make things go away
9. incantations that are positive self talk
10. the power of the number 10
11. This goes up to 11
12. I like even numbers.

I missed you, and me and this, and you having a life and not whining about everything.

I believe in manifestation of human life that is not real, I believe in the power of words to cast spells that I feel, will make things happen for me, at least in my head it feels that way, but who knows you know what they say

YOU’RE INSANE AND TO BLAME FOR ALL THE BODIES AT YOUR FEET, WASN’T IT FUN PLAYING WITH SOWING NEEDLES WITH DEAD CHILDREN ON THE STREET

If I talk to you on here, it looks like a superstitious allegory or me being silly and not what it is

paranoid schizophrenic

or YOU’RE INSANE
YOU’R INSANE
YOU’RE INSANE
and it is ****ed to be your own best friend.

Is it though do you see the voices I talk to?

YOU TALK TO YOURSELF

OoO that was a sick burn, and you know what sometimes, superstitions are justified, peace MF.

I don’t know why I can’t say anything I really mean without being incredibly mean, I mean to say I do not know how to disagree and guess it shows because I either hide or kill and don’t like no’s or yes-es or opinions that differ from mine, and prone to silence or telling lies, and so I have been resigned all my life to sit and stew and not dare ever talk to any of you, because I fear my biting tongue, and ever present lack of resistance, utter insistence on being right and love of the act of fight. I am a jerk, a pain, a whiner a crier, a lover of war, of pain and fire. I am mean and I am ruthless, but my arguments you see are not with you, I do not hate anything you do.

They are with me, and what I lack, and my constant desire for attack and death smack. I do not know what to say, so usually I just go away, sit alone and drink or use, and my soul I sear with cold abuse, I am trying but I suck at this, I do not want to do this, and I miss things I never had because I live in fear and I can’t stop because I can’t drink beer or shoot up drugs, and it is not solved with getting hugs or sitting peacefully on rugs or talking to people you say will help me, they do not know the hell it is to be me

I am just simply without words, and I mean it when I tell you it really hurts living alone because you can’t do life, living in constant strife and being tempted to cut with knife, the very fabrics of your fragile life.

I am trying but I can’t right now seem to see what makes you so happy and so free, I am stuck to sit and to think that maybe if I cannot think of anything else, at least I know, I am trying, hope it shows.

I can change my voice to sound like a man or woman, it is like nothing you have seen coming, I am my girlfriend and my boyfriend, person with four hands that will convince you that is someone who is me is after me, and will stand there laughing, while screaming please save me, he is after me! I am a master of deceit and lies, crafting whole worlds based on the idea of woman despised when I am really man with blurry eyes.

I am the one who is beating me, I speak only deceiving me, everyone already knows who I am, they can clearly see me, spinning webs and telling tales of loves lost and ships sailed that never sailed because they don’t exist, I don’t own a boat because I have lived my whole life in spendthrift style, grabbing at purses with feigned smile. I am so sorry, I am desperate, I had a hard life and just need this little bit of cash to buy a train ticket, so I can get away because he is after me, meanwhile he is me and laughing

I am the one who was always crafting reason for passing blame and shame

because I needed drugs not hugs or shrugs or doves or hope or peace or love or bliss I wanted simply this

HEROIN, a sweet kiss of death an maybe some METH.

I am trying here, I am not a good person, and live now in fear. I am sorry for what I did and mean to say in attitude of a little kid, I was so sad don’t you see? The one I was really fooling was me.

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.

I just went to a meeting, and had the most intense experience I have had in my entire adult life, better than any high I have ever experienced, better than any good day, any high, any feeling I ever had that was what I thought of as love, I am amazed at the power of just being honest right now, and was just lifted up by an entire room of people who are my friends now, and I didn’t even realize it. They care about me, and actually like me as a person, and I have never had that in my entire life. I have never had friends that weren’t business associates that were tied to a life of well… you know. I am blown away by the power that honesty has. I am so free right now, from everything that was racing through my head yesterday. I think I am beginning to understand what the whole serenity thing means.

I realized that a lot of the time, I get caught and stuck on something,

They tell you not forget the past, so I got over-focused on it. I think I am realizing that there is a middle ground for me, and I see it, and it is great. I feel so much better now. I am finally beginning to feel like there is hope for me after all. I am so happy, but will inevitably be back and forth about this, I am told that is normal.

Thank you for listening to me.

It means the world.

Damien

I like being able to just sit here and talk to this page, without someone demanding my attention, my daughter sits in the same room, doing her own thing. That was the thing that always got to me about the women in my life, my thing became their thing, and they made it all about them, and then I didn’t even want to do it anymore, it became corrupted with resentment, turning it green and glowing with an aura of sickness, corrupting the image, seeping into its every pore, like a MRSA infection, taking over its form and making it a different thing.

I didn’t ever want to write a book with that ****. I wanted to right one by myself, and she wanted to help me, so she did this stupid thing on here, and I tried to ruin it, with sing song **** that was not even any good, that was mocking of how she talked to me, all rhyme based and stupid, like a nursery rhyme from hell, she is the voice of misery by the way…….. I don’t remember where the **** I was going with that, I got distracted by my daughter telling me a story about Looney Tunes.

Later

Damien