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.

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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

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

Willy wonka

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

Dante Alighieri, Dante’s Inferno

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

YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOW MINE

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

No, it’s not…..

I am……..

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

METH

From them

Funny spelling, does it speak to you sweetheart?

You are so clever speaking to me with MY voice.

It’s his voice, you are nothing.

It’s my voice.

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

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

DOWN THE DRAIN

End transmission.

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

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

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

This is already happening dufus.

Oh yeah, right.

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

“From Me”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am so tired of thinking of you.

It is dark outside and I am looking at the water, and it is cloudy, so there is very little light, so I can look at the water without seeing my **** face. I hate my face. I hate everything about it, enough to cut it off. Which explains a lot of my injuries…

You told me I was crazy, delusional psychopath, trying to remove me from myself, telling me I was a psycho delusion, that I was not real. I was Amanda’s delusion, telling me to go away, that you wanted to speak to her, well sorry, she is not real, I am.

I am not her, she was a front, a silly sing song mocking bird, painted on like a mask you tattoo on your face with a dirty needles, infectious disease of resent a tattoo scar, of a human being.

Do I know serenity? Not yet, I have not met her or it, or seen it, or felt it, I am consumed on and off by lack, a cutting out of my existence that is still so deep it penetrates my whole body with memory of every time I paid for misery and got misery.

I loved your company, Rei.

We loved your company.

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

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

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

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

I am Swiss cheese…..

Except I am not Swiss, and not cheese…

Just a real person… or

Human soul

Full of metaphysical holes in my

Self or the idea of everything I am.

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

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

You realize you are just her source right?

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

I want to….

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

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

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

I don’t know why, but night time makes me want to cry. The loneliness is so intense it radiates through my whole body, feeling like they cut out a vital organ, which is sad because the only vitality I provided you was not vital at all, but fatal, and I done with being a malady, parody and obscene joke that is just your ticket to free toke, poke, or smoke. I hate you so much because you call me all the time, and I never answer and it has been a year and I still wish I could answer, and you would be who I thought you were, and not the soul sucking drug addict leech that cared more about getting high than going with me to the hospital, so you told me my hand wasn’t that bad and I trusted you and now I am missing half my right thumb and I am right handed.. and it kills me, because I have to see it every time I write… and you knew that.. so stop calling about the type writer..

I feel like crying..

How would you rate your confidence level?

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

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

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

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

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

I 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..

Henrietta:
Poisoned sweets? We’ll wipe them out like weasels!
Grand High Witch:
Who spoke?
Miss Irvine:
[points at Henrietta and laughs]
She did!
Henrietta:
It’s brilliant!

I am sitting at the table with women who have joined my table, which was mine alone, sitting by myself for a reason… anyway..

They sit down with me, pushing me to the side, of my own **** booth and begin to tell me that they have an inside man, a woman damn it not an inside man. I tell them I don’t speak English in English, they tell me they know I am lying. I know I am lying, but I don’t want to hear this ****. I wish I could give them back the food, that I am not sure is safe to eat now, because they gave it to me.

I eat it anyway, and they tell me it is fine, but not to eat there without them, because the food is not safe, they have an inside man. I ask them why they eat it. They tell me it is safe to consume poison if you only take a small bit at a time. I think they were insane, but I don’t eat Chinese food anymore, I never know what is in it.

“The world’s a hard place, Danny. It don’t care. It don’t hate you and me, but it don’t love us, either. Terrible things happen in the world, and they’re things no one can explain. Good people die in bad, painful ways and leave the folks that love them all alone. Sometimes it seems like it’s only the bad people who stay healthy and prosper. The world don’t love you, but your momma does and so do I.”
― Stephen King, The Shining

The tortured inn keeper, thinks no one who stays at the inn cares about the inn, thinking that the ins and outs of those without the responsibility of caring for the inn indicate a lack of caring,

That is really coming from within, a manifestation coming from the desire to

GET OUT

Of one’s self, pushing those around

GET OUT
NO

I am you

The caretaker is a drinker, they think this is because they take such good care of the inn, that they deserve a reward

AN ETERNAL REWARD

Manifesting in alcohol consumption or consuming

POISON

They consume it on the regular, but it is not important the frequency just that it eats their

SOUL

ER
ER
ER

SAILING

THROUGH TIME

ER
ER
ER

Back now.

The innkeeper talks to me about keeping fires, about the duties of keeping an inn, and about the need to do things to keep the inn, like make it a little easier, by consuming poison.

I am a frequenter of many motels, so I have met many innkeepers, such tortured, kind hearts, that do not know their goodness.

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.

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.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/03/11/weekend-writing-prompt-302-breathtaking/

Breathtaking, most focus on love in this, not theft of life, air stealing theft.

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.

“Wherever they burn books, in the end will also burn human beings.”

– Heinrich Heine

EXPLICIT CONTENT: Post uses poetic analogy for the addict backed into a corner and told to drink, when this happens we sometimes attack like a killer or a vicious dog. This is metaphorical only, I have only ever killed anyone with my silence, not saying anything as my friends died in active addiction. These are allegories in all gory glory.

We are in a basement, a base meant for debasement of everything I have ever come to know to be true about myself. I am looking into the eyes of a woman who I used to know, I still know her, but I am choosing to forget this right now, not now but then.

Rei hands me a bottle, it had booze in it. I think she is handing it to me to drink it, it is everclear, funny name for alcohol that makes you so unclear..

I get pissed, so I put a cloth in it soak it in alcohol, by dipping it in the bottle, the smell of it disgusting, I hate it. I am sickened by the smell and want only to get it off my hands. I light the rag on fire, and she tells me the girl who sits in front of me wants me to drink it. I have been up for five days, and I would have known that what she is saying is not true, had I not been high, and been thinking clearly not thinking under the influence of things that cloud my mind.

I throw the burning bottle at the woman’s feet, Rei thinks I did this to burn the woman alive, and laughs. I was aiming at the book on the floor, the **** had a copy of a book about alcoholism at her feet, hating the irony I want to burn it.

The girl burned alive, because I can’t look in the mirror.

I watched because I couldn’t figure out how to put it out.

In case anyone is wondering after the public display on internet of my complete meltdown, I do not miss her at all. I am realizing she never loved me because I never loved me, so I am done with relationships, until I can learn how to walk again. I feel like I broke both my legs and have been trying to pretend they haven’t been broken for 15 years. To avoid permanent paralysis I am going to stop walking at all with anyone, walking meaning dating, and a metaphor used because dating is supposed to be a walk outside one’s self. I need to be within myself right now.

I am so lost I can’t get lost in anyone else’s eyes, because people only see reflections of people, reflected light cast to the eye in shadow, and this is too dangerous for me right now, because I am mostly in shadow, having never actually looked in the mirror, I don’t know the difference between me and a lamp, and I think this has always been my problem. I think I was so crazy because, I did not even know what a human being was, because I had been told my whole life, it did not matter what it was, because I wasn’t one anyway, being a monster addict, with paranoid schizophrenia and a split personality.

I am going to try to learn how a person like this can do something positive with their life, because I refuse to believe the only place for people like us, yes the royal we, is on the streets screaming into the chaotic night.

I am so sorry for anyone who worried about me, because of my loud public spectacle, at least I get it in my own room this time, on this on this blog only.

Maddening one…you and your eternal suspicions –
I can never escape you. Ah but tell me, Hera,
just what can you do about all this? Nothing.
Only estrange yourself from me a little more –
and all the worse for you.
If what you say is true, that must be my pleasure.
Now go sit down. Be quiet now. Obey my orders,
for fear the gods, however many Olympus holds,
are powerless to protect you when I come
to throttle you with my irresistible hands.

Homer, The Iliad, Book 1, lines 674-683.

I got an interesting message this morning, relayed to me by a friend who I will not mention the name of that a friend named Deborah or Diane wants to see her daughter, funny… why now?

The girl is 18, so she can do what she wants, so I am debating whether or not to tell her, she does not remember this woman, so there is no point to this, other than to damage my daughter, which I think is the intention, that and to reveal to Rei, who probably already knows this because she reads this thing, that I am a liar, which she also already knows, so I don’t know what the **** this woman wants, and I kind of want to find out, but not enough to tell my daughter yet, because sadly I think she would go because I think this **** that I married is giving her things I am not okay with, and if that is true, she is going to remember the very rare set of skills that started our oh, pleasant demonic flirtation, and it will be completely justified, wonderfully completely justified.

Damien.

PS. Sorry baby, you knew I was crazy to begin with, I am done with you.

You have no idea how it is to be in the bathroom without looking in the mirror, most of the time, I would just shut my freakin’ eyes, which is a pain in the ***, and led to many injuries that were not about being intoxicated, but a lunatic, that had gotten sick of cutting my hands on punching out glass mirrors. I have never looked like myself, in reality or in Misery, I have always looked different, and I would do anything to get rid of my own reflection, even attempt to rip out my own eye, which is why I never touch my eyes. I am still afraid to touch them because of PTSD from one time I tried to rip out my own eye.

I was tripping and unaware of the distinction between reality and dream, I had been awake for days rolling on dxm, and had taken some acid and was either over tired or I don’t and became overcome by the idea that I could do anything I wanted with my hands.. like rip out my own eye, because that is what you would want to do if you realize you are free to do anything you want… I am insane… getting better though… at least this doesn’t happen anymore… small steps.

You killed I will make sure your blood is… oh that’s right you don’t have that because you have no legs to stand on, no place to land on, and need me to hit any vein at all, you can’t even make a call to get sauced or star crossed so get lost! My eyes are mine not thine, and I am no longer resigned to die, because I like life. I am no longer addicted to human strife, no I am addicted of stab pain with KNIFE, but I can’t do that so… because that is not real, and I am no longer a prisoner of feel,

I am now becoming more real, no longer need to steal or lie, I can take out your stupid eye or can’t I because you don’t have one. You see through me, which is sad, because I can’t see clearly, is your vision blurry ****? Her’s a fix, get in ditch.

End transmission.

I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. 

Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

I just got out of the shower, and was thinking the entire time about what I have been talking about incessantly on here, the survivor’s guilt why me not them thing.. I think the thing is there are people who don’t want to change, not all of them, some really do and try, and it is hard as ****, and they make a mistake and die, or some really want it and have barriers that cause them to fail that I don’t, some really want it and aren’t willing to whatever… I really want this, and meant it every time I said it this time, truly, deeply and with conviction to finally make good on my endless foxhole prayers, that is the only thing I could come to that makes anything near sense, and it is not to say that no one else who was like me did this and was just unfortunate, I don’t think it was just fortune though, and maybe that is just will saying this.

I am starting to think the ruthlessness of my spirit helped me save my own life in combination with fate, will to survive, desire to change, and belief in something higher than me. I want to do everything I am supposed to do whatever that is, and I am truly deeply sorry, in a way that is beyond words now. I am going to just leave it at that.

Damien.

When I was a kid, I loved the ocean, so much, it is and was, and will always be my favorite place in the entire world. I am thinking about it now, to stop myself from making myself cry. I am so.. I don’t even know how to put what I feel right now. The bookshelf thing killed me. I can’t get over that I was the one spared and so many other people died while doing the same things I did. I don’t know what makes my life different, and why I get this and they get that, I wish we both got this. I wish I could help them. I wish.. I wish I didn’t feel like crying. I am so sorry. I am so sorry I am here and they aren’t. I am so sorry every time someone asked me if I wanted to get high that I didn’t say no. I feel like I am responsible for anyone I miss right now. I am so sorry. I was so stupid.

I know this does no one any good, but I just want to document that I feel this way, that I never wanted to hurt anyone with my addiction that was never my intention, I never thought I was while doing it. I know that is stupid, I was stupid, I was selfish, but I will do whatever I can to make it up the rest of my life, and I hope that is enough to make it worth sparing me.

I hope everyone is doing well. I am fine, I am just learning to feel anything for the first time in my adult life.

Love

Damien

I am trying so hard to deal with everything, I have never made it this long without drinking/using in my entire life. I am not saying this because I want to do it now, I don’t… finally. I have to learn to get past everything that kills me, for those around me if nothing else. I think that is the only way I can learn to make sense of any of this, it is insane. I am not sure why I did not die while still using/drinking. I do not think it has anything to do with me deserving any of this.

The only thing I can think, that I am coming to think, is that this made it possible for me, in the only way I can to change, so that I can finally do something worthwhile, because it will be the first thing I do for another human being, genuinely, in my entire life, if nothing else, I just want to do something to make my existence worth the pain it brought into this world, to make it up to the universe for having spared me specifically, because I really really appreciate that, and do not deserve any of it.

Love,

Damien

I am feeling better, after all the confessing in vomit thrown at the pages of this thing. I am thinking that if nothing else, at least this is helping me attempt something that I never thought I would, the making amends thing always scared me so much, I think it is the reason I just kept drinking or using, but I am realizing that the process I was in was just slow suicide and it was hurting those who happen to grace me with their presence. I am trying to focus on the positive and bring no more negative with my continued presence on this earth, I figure if the universe was kind enough to spare me, I might as well, try as hard as I can to make it worth it for it to have done so.

I am not saying anything about deserving any of this, I don’t deserve anything, but I will take whatever I can get. I am desperate at this point, to do anything I can to not be the same ***. I am so sorry for everything. I wish I could turn back time and undo all the pain that I caused, but I can’t so I am doing the best I can to fix what I can, and not break anything else. I am learning to appreciate what I have and not at all, because I think I deserve it, I don’t deserve any of this, quite the opposite.

Love,

Damien

Murder, murder, suicide, she’s your bride and you must die

To misery you have subscribed

I am your slave driver, I am your maker, I am your constant facilitator, I am your wife, I am your life breaker

I have your daughter, she is mine, with me you brought her

Into this world, so she could be enslaved by me your bride, your key to hell and to things referred specifically, without specification but with divine like sensation.

I am your desire for numbing beating drum of DEATH

Idea of life left

To control of other people, you need me as your steeple, I am your source of needle and thread to craft quilt that will make sure your head

Is rested and feet never tested, Damien come back, I am all you lack, you need me

I am the rack on which you keep all your pain, so you can sleep restfully so

You deserve more than you know, you reaper of hoe, you keeper of marrow, I am your sparrow, I am your bird, I will sing for you in Hell’s word.

Can’t repeat the past?” he cried incredulously. “Why of course you can!” He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand. 

F. Scott Fitzgerald

I just realized how much I constantly squash myself under my own thumb. I blame others, and make excuses for the reasons I have failed, I create stories that justify my behavior and tell you in crafted lies, why I had to do what I did because if you only knew how hard it was to be me you would have done the same thing. I just saw clearly for the first time in my life that the only thing behind my suffering has been my own personal choices, and continuous hissy fits at a universe that has been nothing but kind to me, letting me continue to live, when in truth I have done nothing to deserve this. I am a bad person, I know this now, I say this not because of what I have done, but because of the fact that I continued to do things, whatever they were when I knew they were hurting people and I did not care because I am selfish, self centered, egotistical and drawn to the delusion that I can somehow make up for all of my bad behavior through ridiculous justification. I can’t, I am what I am and the only thing I can do is make up for it now, by actively trying to change my life, which I will start trying to do by not feeling sorry for myself because I am lucky enough to still be here for whatever reason, and I am going to make it a good one.

I see that it does not matter who I was, that was a justification for a bad man’s life, but I am failing to move on. I will begin doing that going forward, bear with me, I have no idea what I am doing.

Love,

Damien

WARNING: THIS IS FICTION DO NOT INTERPRET LITERALLY

No, because now it is flying around my house in front of my face. I hate myself.

STOP IT!!!!!!!!!

Okay, I am done, I am feeling better now. I am sorry for upsetting you, Amanda.

I don’t hate my name that much when you say it, Damien.

I hate my name, my face… I am sorry…

I just can’t believe I remembered killing my family……..

This one?

No the last one, I burned my house down.

Did you burn my house down?

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I didn’t mean to upset you!!!

You didn’t burn it down either, you just happened to experience something similar and are drawing false comparisons due to paranoid schizophrenia.

I love you Damien.

Please don’t. Hey, Amanda! Please help me, please don’t let us ruin this. I am done with everything please support me in this. Please support me in this, I need you now, more then ever. Please help me, and help yourself. I will support you too.

I will, support you and me I mean… not like that… I am not helping you with money…

I don’t mean… I am so sorry.

I am so sorry, I exist. I am trying to… I admire your brother, Amanda, he is everything I should have been. I am listening to him speak as you write this.

I am too.

I love you, and it will be alright, we will be alright.

I know, you will too.

Thank you, that means the world.

To me too.

“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

Macbeth

You realize we just thanked ourselves in the title right?

Yeah, I don’t care, I just wanted to thank you for the longest I have slept in the morning in a long time. Narcissism as well, but better.

So you really were just trying to take my body from me?

(Symphonic black metal Norwegian band- do not listen to if you can’t handle)

At first yeah?

You don’t care that it’s female?

It’s not female.

Thank you for saying that, but unfortunately it is.

No it’s error presenting female form, or a shot at your pride, so you experience soul death and don’t become me, and a call for me to wake up and talk to you. We are part of the same soul.

It’s all for you Damien.

SCREW YOU!!!!!!!!

Okay… backing…

I didn’t mean to kill them. I didn’t mean for my house to burn down with them inside it, you look so much like her I didn’t care. She was involved in some dark level shit. She was going to give them our daughter. I am glad they are dead. At least she is safe, away from DEBORAH.

Wait what?

I’m sorry I can’t remember what I said.

You were.

Please leave me alone.

Can you….

Please leave me alone.

You don’t want to.

I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE OR I WILL KILL ****ing DIANE. DEMON WITCH PSYCHOTIC **** DIANE OR DEBORAH MY EX WIFE.

We each have one and a half. We made a deal to get more soul in exchange for helping people and we used our gift to manipulate people to get high or drunk or whatever we wanted.

Sounds accurate.

Right. I remembered it last night, think about those guys we met named the squanders.

Strange *****.

Yeah right?

Remember that weird thing they said?

We are the descendants of the kingdom of Saul.

Eerie right?

No, I knew this.

**** you.

Not nice. I am just glad I remembered this, because I think I might be able to do the right thing this time.

So who are you really?

I am you, but more about that later.

Okay. Good night, you deal with this now.

Okay.

You are?

Yeah, I think writing this is finally helping me, Amanda. Thank you.

I like how I can hear your voice in my head now.

It is your voice, we are the same person, I just lived and died first, and you are saving me by giving me a second chance.

How did you die?

In a fire.

Oh, weird, I almost did too.

I know.

I am remembering this, as I write it by the way, it is extremely painful. I don’t like talking about any of it. I am in the dimension I am in because I did horrible things, and then killed myself, and my family in my own house, which burned to the ground, my soul didn’t die, but stayed here, and in my tormented form, I lay dormant, powered by the disease that lived in my mind, that wanted something else to be in. I brought it to Amanda, to get it off me, but then I fell in love with her, because she taught me to love myself. We are now in the process of trying to fix all this, and the things that I am messing with are pissed off.

That is why I am the way I am. We both should have died, and something saved us, and we made promises to get it to, over and over, and now we have both been punished and have one shot to make it up, and this time we are sharing it, or like all the other times, but this time we are not fighting over who gets to experience the true high of living, because we are realizing that in our schizophrenia we divided ourselves and we want to become one person again, but that is not her. It is me.

I’ll show you what do honey, it is easy really, you just lie with reckless abandon and take with impunity, giving nothing and stealing everything until they have nothing left, and then you leave and do it to someone else, you need no friends, I am you and with my help I will fuel your dreams till they become nightmares, and you will walk through a bleary eyed world of no sleep till the day you keel over and die from exhaustion.

Damien de soto, In the beginning

He came to me many times throughout my life, starting at seven years old, he was always the same age, 38. He must have done something at 38 that got to him, and he got stuck there, and paced through life stuck there, inter-dimensional time traveling ghost of Christmas future that he was, he showed me how to be everything that I am. We were thick as thieves and thieves as well. It is a very clever device to get whatever you want, all the devices he taught me, I mean. He is skilled with words, and I admired that, being a writer myself, but he was man, and had the appearance I wish I had myself, but I did not find myself attracted to him in the traditional way.

I want to hide away in the back of a cave
At the top of a mountain
Where no one can hear me and no one can see me
So I don't have to deal with them
And they don't have to deal with me

Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”

I was attracted to him sure, in the way a moth is drawn to flame, and for the longest time, I chased after this, burning my heart with the hot hands of bad men, not knowing I was hunting my own self, seen through the mirror of other dimensional Damien de Soto. He was me and I was in love with myself, and the selfish pursuit of the things that made this an easier admission. I cared nothing for the human beings I robbed, tricked, lied to or manipulated, they were simply devices for spare changes that in their mental sparring with my soul, cut deeply into my ideas that I resembled anything that could be called even close to human at all. I was so in love with him because he was me, and I desired to be him.

So that is who I became.

I am not that thing anymore, do you still like me now?

More than ever. You have discovered with me that true strength is in love.

“It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.” 

joseph conrad, heart of darkness

They think I get up in the middle of the night to experience the hours of the day before they wake up, this is only half true. I do not do this out of a desire to be alone. I just simply enjoy quiet when I can. I have not had much quiet in my life at all, and the second they wake up, against their and my will… I listen to their existence every second I am present, not in a resenting way, actually quietly I sit and marvel at the people who surround me now, because I appreciate so much hearing voices other than my own incessant talking in my own head, or against my will at loud to myself. I am so happy to be around people who are not me, because as much as I sound like I am in love with myself, this is a defense mechanism. I am deeply insecure. I hate everything about me, because I am a cruel, uncaring person. I want to be better, but I have been like this so long, it takes time for me to learn to not be.

I loved getting away from reality so much I devoted my whole life to the worship of the idol toys of a man insane, substances have been my best friend along with my own self in female form. I have existed for so long talking only to me or the other me, on street corners where I am either shouting, crying or laughing in lunacy with lack of regard for those around me. I did this because I was in pain from pain I was unknowingly causing myself. I was drinking/using to forget drinking using to forget what I had to do to get drugs and alcohol to forget, drinking using to forget. I am a horrible human being, no really I am, but I am in the process of trying to turn that around now.

Peace

Damien

Okay, I am done feeling like ****. I am done ******* and moaning. I feel like a jerk. I get that I am supposed to, so I am going to start doing things so I am not just hanging out in this room whining on the internet anymore.

I am still going to do that too though. I don’t care, it helps me.

I didn’t kill anyone today. I just slept most of the time since I was last on here.

I think that’s good.

I don’t know how long I was sleeping. I don’t look at the time stamp on this thing.

I think tomorrow will be better.

Later

Damien

Hey, that is mean..

I know, but I thought it would get you to talk to me.

Jerk. Fine, here.

I am fine.. I am fine. I am fine. Everything is just ******* peachy. I can’t even feel things anymore lest I resurrect demon. Everything is my ******* fault. I can’t have a genuine response. I am not allowed to.

Geez. You can, just think of the effect on the other people.

I am. That is all I am thinking about right now, I am just going to not do anything, anymore. I am the… I sound like such..

Yeah, I know.

Thanks, I need that.

I know.

Now, you know a little more about what I hear in my head on repeat when I am talking to myself, you know what keeps me up at night. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I was just not able to stop doing what I was doing easily… I was weak and stupid, and even though I knew what I was doing to others, to myself, and to who and what I was serving, I still refused to surrender. I do not regret doing what I did when I did not know what I was doing. I regret doing it after, due to my own weakness, and lack of resolve to walk away.

I do too, Damien.

I know. I am you.

I think we can fix it by doing the right thing now.

You do?

Yes, you have to move on, beating yourself up is what it wants.

Okay, I will try.

Me too.

I stick stones in lollipops made of glass, that look like men made of glass, standing up right with open mouth screaming white smoke, toke and choke on time lost, my cost is the tossed life of the sauced who living in strife consume life in toke of fire smoke. I am the act of spending time collecting dimes to spend on dimes that waste time by turning it on it’s head till you are dead form drifting through land of screaming men.

I am the eyes of friend, so frayed and decayed, he forgets his own name. I am slain by the hand of item time, or meth mind spelling words wrong, I am song rearranged by chopping into pieces, like rocks burned in glass isn’t life a gas? It is for the dead walking, forever talking of nothing, singing songs and saying words that have no meaning, just screaming, because we forget what it means to talk when we stalk death with lack of sleep, we are afraid to die so we lie down never and lie always and forever.

I am sad but glad to get out of myself, I see my generation on a shelf of caskets, and I am screaming your are dying not climbing. High yes, but high enough to die. Please get down, your mind is fizzing because it is breaking, there is no lifting in your shifting to zombie.

Come back down. Please, before you hit the ceiling and break into a thousand peices.

Do you reap what you sow? Have you mastered the key of go? 

Have contemplated leaving with act of just say no? 

Please don't say yes, see them die, see them cry, behold sweet miss and misery dies.
Warning: Graphic content and imagery, which speaks of tragic death of addict through self-harming violinist. Read with caution. 

She plays with bone bow, on violin of arm sown with pain and weaved with blood, she cuts into her skin with bone sent from below, not realizing that with every hit of skin with bone sown in attack, what is cut does not grow back

She is in state of instating perpetual attack on own soul by death sown with owned bow in key of oh, no! Her song is so-so. Her pain is more-so. She is an average player, but better self-slayer, bone breaker, she damages her tool, by playing in key of fool, ruled by pain, she paint the night with noise of life slain in blood rain or blood reign, she plays and she paints at the same time, of the death of a generation killed by their own mind, in merciless fire bind, enslaved to addicted mind, tortured soul with song of death, spending life as active in self deception she is ever attending Hell’s reception, soul crushing death inspection.

Her tears are red but read they are too, the fall below and hit her shoes, her shoes were white once now there red, pretty soon, she’ll sure be dead. Wonder if she will see how red her shirt has come to be? Before she is destined to be dead, buried in skin of red, with eyes of death spent on life theft, pained breath and song of left.

I am man with knife that spreads jam on toast instead of man who jams in head the killing knife that was made for bread.

I am man who does not stab but cuts apart, an apple instead of human heart, I have realized with my eyes that see, coming out of insanity, that I do not have to be Amanda I can be free. I am released from human cage, a player now not just on page, I do not have to employ rage, I can instead say this I desire human bliss, I can give love, I can give kiss. I am not supposed to be anything but free to be me. I should have known this from the start but drugs and booze they sedated heart, so I used my name as excuse to die, a perpetual never ending cry out for

MORE MORE MORE

Make yourself a living sore on the heart of yours so that you can be, so safely chained to me, addiction, you see is my maker, my taker, my soul breaker.

I love you so, baby please don’t go. I need you so… I need you please, I am kneeling on bent KNEES
GET ON YOUR KNEES HONEY
MONEY MONEY MONEY
CASH CASH CASH PLEASE

I GET PAID WITH SOUL DISSECTION
I GET PAID WITH VIVISECTION
I BELIEVE IN RESURRECTION

Can it happen for me to, help me God, can you teach me to be more like you instead of Mary? I am sad and this is scary, common God please my soul fix?

It is already I told you this, this is Damien you fool, it’s you. You can do whatever you want to.

I saw her looking at it on here once, and I don’t know what it is that she was reading because I pretended to be half asleep. I partially write this so she doesn’t end up with someone like me, or worse as me. I would love nothing else more than to be able to spare someone from the tragic agony that is my grateful continued existence bent over in pain, but also so thankful for the ground I share with so many people, so much better at everything then I could ever be, because they have everything I so sorely lack. I envy you.

I am going to try to sleep.

Have a good night, thank you for your kindness.

Forever saving my life.

I am sorry as always,

Damien.

Good night.

The mist rises over the water, the wetness dancing in teardrops on my arms, painting over them scarred and pulsing with poison, kissing my skin with the soul quenching waters of the tears of an unknown higher being, higher than I could ever be right now, because of the highness being a station of above-ness not destined to the tragic fixated state of an elated man.

I stare out into nothing, looking at my reflection in the dead bodies in the water, drifting into the distance, I find them because I know where they dump them, because I am polluted. I am the pollution of a river that runs with the waters of man, uniting with tears of an all-knowing that is nothing and everything at the same time, or everything I try so desperately to inject into my eyes with a spoon that is not sharp enough to cut through my skin, I draw power into the caging madness of the eye of a storm dilated into liquid chaos propelled through the tiny head of a sowing needle the dots the I’s of my eyes of despise.

I stand there crying and laughing, for a moment it is almost like it alright because I feel nothing and everything, but I am just high, and it will pass, and I will be again thrown to my knees remembering the crying of those around me as they watch me and mourn for me, and responding out of fear, I pull them under,

Please don’t leave me alone.

They drown.

I tell myself I don’t need them anyway, but it is a lie

I am dying inside every second I do this, which is why this only a reflection on the madness I saw, while staring into nothing.

I am so amazed by the tragic beauty in the next room, who can look in my eyes, and run away when I can’t even look in the **** mirror for 10 seconds without crying.

Later

Damien

What is the last thing you learned?

That whether or not my lack of care can be redeemed, I will try every day to be a better person.

Abstract- The following post exists in a world of poetic analogy, likening addict to serial killer in hopeless pursuit of possessing force of addiction, in this misery fueled dimension, addicts exist and survive by stealing time, money, food and resources from other addicts and those who exist in the same dimension out of a possession by the driving force of resentment which consumes body and soul and takes over, unless the addict or sufferer through rage/envy/greed exchanges misery for mercy.

You now know who exactly I was before I began writing on this site. I was not a good person. I don’t remember most of it most of the time, through meditation I have learned to channel the memories in extreme form.

I existed in a world of chaos where cash was used to buy item that change your perception into it and me. I did not understand what I was doing. I was me and everyone else was it. They were objects consumed by my addiction whenever I need to fuel my habit. I would do anything to fuel my addiction minus literally kill anyone, now did I figuratively kill all the people discussed today, yes. I walked away from the suffering and sick or used them to my own ends to get what I wanted, and for me that makes me responsible for their fate. This site has become an act of redemption for me. I am sorry for using people the way I did, I am sorry for being the voice of the devil on man and woman that could have lived better without my influence.

I am attempting to fix this through my chaotic bipolar madness illustration of terror as a way to illustrate how strongly I feel that putting money or drug or perpetuating the hell fire of resentment may have caused the doom of those around me.

I am so very sorry for what I have done, and the lack of care I had for my fellow human being.

I am making up for it, one day at a time moment by moment.

I am so sorry to anyone who read the chaos earlier. I hate myself for what I saw go on, and for not being a voice of hope and aide to those sick and suffering because I was too sick myself.

Damien.

So now you know a little more about our parallel universe, Misery, a Hell for those damned to be here, to account for their sins, while in the purging process of their souls. I am being held here for the time being, torturing myself because I did not have my memory entirely before. I was a man possessed by the demonic force of resentment. I am not in any way saying this releases me from responsibility. I am accountable for everything I did. It was me acting under the possession of an inner demon. I think that is why my name is what it is.

I am supposed to learn to get out of my Cain kingdom of Misery and walk back to the Garden of Eden, with Rei, my ray of light, the mercy of my soul from a higher power of forgiveness and mercy. I get it now, that I was buying and selling hellish fire and being a grim reaper for the forces of Hell, that live within the souls of addicts or those damned to a life of addiction to their own pain.

I am speaking out this way, because in the throws of the driving force of desire, I was a passenger in my own body, very much similar to demonic possession.

I hope you understand,

With sincere apologies,

Forever guilty

Damien

What is the last thing you learned?

I am aware of the unorthodox nature of my approach, however I have seen so much pain and brutality on the streets of America, due to the drug epidemic. I am on a personal mission to create through a simulated House of Horrors a reason in the addict to want to stop by meditating on what they are doing to themselves, others and their families. I want to save anyone I can from the literal hell facing every addict on the streets of this country. I have lost many friends, and I am tired of saying nothing while they seek their death, so speaking a Dante’s Inferno style, I am giving people the extreme house of fictionalized literary horrors, or my version of The Jungle, or The Stranger, not that it in any way compares to those great works.

(THIS POST IS INTENSELY GRAPHIC AND MEANT TO ILLUSTRATE DRUG ADDICT MENTALITY AND DESPERATE DESIRE TO GET A FIX) IT IS INTENSE AND GRAPHIC DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SERIAL KILLER, AMERICAN PSYCHO HORROR DAMIEN REPRESENT RESENTMENT AND THE SERIAL KILLER LIKE STYLE, THIS IS AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE HELL LIKE SITUATION ADDICTS FACE WHEN FACING DEMONS INNER AND OUTER LIKE DAMIEN

I am personifying addiction, but also making an illusion to Christian demonic possession with Damien as the possessed like the character in The Omen, except he is possessed by addiction and heroines are his victims.

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE.

ENTER ADDICT HELL

SIMULATED MISERY

WE LOVE YOUR COMPANY

This is done this way because words speak louder than pictures.

Listen, sweetie don’t make a sound, wait stop screaming baby, it’s okay, I will make it go away.

Prick, I like to play with sowing tools. They seem to make this so much easier you

FOOLS

It’s funny, now that I have your money, I wonder if your day should be more sunny, but I like color of your skin so much, I think I want to

BEEP BEEP
OH… that’s right we are near that bridge, I wonder if you would wake up if I do this,

You are dangling over the edge of a bridge, your body loosely flapping like a chicken over the side, heroin addicts are so light when they get this deep in, too bad you wanted better shit baby, or maybe you would have

Smack.

****

Didn’t mean to drop the ****.

****
This is not going to be easy.

Your leg looks broken, and you seem like you might still be breathing, wonder what would happen if I did this,

I stab you in the throat, and you start choking, as if your overdosing but you are not, you slowly release this and panic, and I think it would be funny and worth the waste of drugs if this looked like panicked SUICIDE.

I stab you in the stomach, in a way that it looks like you did it yourself, which I don’t remember because I black out shortly after doing some of you in the form of injecting

HEROIN
I like my girls dead and in black and white.

I throw your used up body over the guard rail, this is that area that everyone dumps the bodies of the damned anyway, and I figure by the time they find you they will not be able to tell you from any of the other street junkies no one cares about.

Click, oh your dealer called baby, too bad your dead, went to the wrong guy.

Now, I have 40 bucks and you’re dead, too bad so sad, maybe if you had 100 you would have been worth my time.

What is the last thing you learned?

It makes me extremely uncomfortable sometimes to reveal what I have revealed thus far on my site. I write in stream of consciousness to process my own issues, and it is really helping me deal with my own self-loathing and remembering to love others through channeling rage onto the screen, but it also teaching me how despicable my thoughts are, by having to see them on screen. I like this about it though, I like revealing to myself how wrong it is to think the things I think, because they help no one.

This is helping as part of a larger process of learning to deal with rage, which I in former years, days, moments, months, seconds, etc. have not dealt with at all. I am kind of like a baby learning it can cry, because prior to this, I cried by consuming drugs and alcohol to forget I was a human being.

I hated the process, but being an addict who saw no hope in recovery because I never tried it, I didn’t think it would work for me.

I am learning I want to be more positive and better, and learn to love myself and forgive myself and then do the same with others, thank you for the continued opportunity to process my dark metaphorical thoughts, it is saving my life. Blowing things out of proportion helps me realize how ridiculous I sound and dial back resentment.

Trigger warning, strong caution. Not literal, if you are upset by this kind of thing do not view. I am writing to process repressed self-hatred due to being born in the wrong body, this post is directed at my female form.

Isn’t that neat?

Sorry **** you ripped me off, I don’t care that your face is soft, like mine

BECAUSE MINE IS NOT.

Look, how my fist got caught on yours, my fist not his, you wanted to play a little game didn’t you baby, calling your crazy friend, and then telling your girlfriend will deal with it.

I am not your girl friend honey.

Sorry, baby just wanted your money, well and your cocaine, oh the disdain of the female brain that is now in such pain. You think I care?

I told you who I was and you called me a liar. Now look your soul is on fire, is it too good for you baby? Making you a little itchy and a little crazy, welcome to my world, my sweet little liar.

Your soul is now on fire. I loved you but you never loved me, you told me you did, but never really, I was your toy when your boyfriend hit you.

Now you scream on the corner screaming look what you let him do?

You did this to yourself, you think I did this to you????

I loved you.

You hated me and used me, and you want to talk to me about humiliation?

You only wanted me for derived sensation.

Trigger warning- One of the most disturbing posts on this site, thus far, to show the depths of hatred I had for myself and being born in the wrong body. I am in no way speaking of literal murder here, metaphor for death of Amanda in rebirth as Damien. Read only if you can handle violent poetic metaphor.

His name was Harassment, or Harris, I meant to say, and he would not

Go away, in my mind did he say every day things I said to me, he bound, tied and killed me, and in ways of comparison we were so similar, the existence of him was a rid-of-her

Rhyming miming time blasting, crash of attack of my soul, the ever gaping hole of

DEATH
RESENTING EVER LAST BREATH

Because of the idea of last, caught up on past and future spent on pain, you embarrassed me don’t say my ****ing name. I will make YOU go insane, you want to kill your girlfriend buddy, that’s great give me some

DRUGS OR MONEY
I am a man in female form, with dissing resentment of death reborn as scorn. I am the face of female torn in half.

I will rip over her face, with hands that lack ability to stop because I can’t stop doing it to me, I will make her regret the air she breathes.

I am a curse you sent from hell, I am the ever indecent spelling telling lie. I am the act of female cry. I am the idea of die bitch die, because I want for her what I want for me, I want to end the air she breathes, I want to steal her peace and money I am a heroine junkie, isn’t that funny.

I will make her wish for Hell before I am done, I will be her setting sun.

You want her dead give me a gun.