Lack of Clarity

I just made myself laugh for five seconds, that is most of the reason for this post.

I don’t know why we think the world is going to fall apart continuously.

I think it is because it was falling apart for so long.

Good point, but it isn’t anymore right?

It feels like it is still, so is it or is it not?

It isn’t, it just feels like it. Did you ever think it was slightly strange to worry about punctuation while doing this to yourself?

No.

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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 brought you a flower, it is nothing.

It is picked from the middle of nowhere, or from nothing.

I mean I can’t remember who you are and was walking, and you are looking at me like you know me, and began talking, and I am holding this, so it must be for you right, and I am sorry, because I no longer have any idea who you are, and this will likely only last a couple minutes, something must have happened that bothered me, and I blanked it out, and now I don’t remember, so here is a flower.

She must have hurt your feelings, this is exactly what happens when people make you cry.

I know this, but I don’t remember why, so it is okay for now. I am just going to forget about it for now.

You should find out why.

I’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.

I am unnoticed

Hot air balloon that flies over HELL, below are those who do not even notice, beyond anything that spells their pain and suffering, they cannot see, they are slaves to their sweet misery, they live in resentment, and cannot look up, this is the state in which they are stuck.

In the muck and the mire, they worship fire, which belongs so sweetly, to their own pain, their lack of restraint, so when something flies over, that can save them from themselves, they are not watchful, looking only

AHEAD AND

DOWN

DOWN

DOWN

SYMMETRICAL

My soul burns for you baby, you make me so ****ing happy.

I like pain, I like pain, I like pain.

It is always on my……..

Have from flowers, from Hell.

So sorry, that is just where I dwell, sometimes, not all the time, really, I am fine, just thinking about you sometimes, not all the time.

You are on my

BRAIN BRAIN BRAIN

In meditative state I reflect on the rain, and think of drowing, a duck with my head up, not breathing, just sucking in the water, and choking on it.

Burn me sweetie, make it hot, burn it so it cures my soul rot. Make it seering, make it jarring, make it burning, make it scarring.

She wore my coat, and I left it with her, because she smelled like lavender, and I wanted to forget her.

You reminded me of the rays of the sun, and that reminded me of someone I would rather

FORGET

Let me go. Let me go. Let me go.

I am so sorry, wedded to disdain, been with her such a long time, grown so used to being bound to decline, it is always on my mind.

She talks so sweetly sometimes, really, voice sounding so simular, to my ex Rei Clearly,

She tells me she loves me, and sometimes I believe the lie, it is so hard, she is a good spy, has such a good hand, good at act of torture, she is a word sorcerer.

Her face was kissed by the light, bathed in sun, so bright

She was kissed by sun, and tattooed by shade, her skin bathed in light, and graced by its going away, she was covered with mist in times of rain, never feeling human pain.

I danced with her once, under the moon, her face made me cry, her love a monsoon, the deepness of her eyes, feeling like madness, bringing out my inner sadness, like caverns to the soul, her eyes were so deep, staring into your face, baby, made me weep.

I loved her for a minute, a second, but then, I was thrown back to the shore, by the wave of defense.

I loved you baby

You were a dream, you were beyond what you seemed to be, I am a nightmare.

I am not anything I seemed, a crying, screaming nightmare, a hellfire vacation, where the only situation that was in any way relaxing was fixation with elation, go away and let me die alone, I am not the one you want to talk to on the phone, I am forever in pain and forever a drain.

You were not like, I painted you like me.

You were so above, my sorry diss ease.

I could not have you, because you knew I was a liar, addiction to meditating on a funeral pyre.

Candy was dandy, and liquor makes me sick, though I am sick to begin, with anyone I am with, I am not able to love, when meditating on cry, she was so sad, because thoughts of her make me sigh, she asked me to quit, but I cannot lie, she was not enough, so I decided to lie, and instead to do things behind her back, meditating on death and on my soul’s lack.

Surrounded on both sides, by the all consumingness of you, I look out into nothing, and see only lack, my soul in perpetual attack, under the spell of don’t look back, and look down and vomit with sound of

ACK. Cough. Cough. I am human eating from chaos’ trough, I eat drugs and don’t come down, I star out into the lurking nothing, reflecting back on pain that I stuff into

The gaping hole, that I have inside my soul, it rips and tears and eats the idea of me whole. I am reality bought and sold, I am bell of death ringing, I am a toll,

Unpaid, unpaid, unpaid.

I am gate to HELL,

You are the idea of HELL

Idea of being UNWELL

OF PAIN THAT IS SWELL

AND SWELLING AROUND MY SOUL

OF DEATH CONSUMED BY UNPAID TOLL

Laid, laid, laid, and

Opening, opening, opening, and staying

Extended into the opening, opening,

Blue, and black nothing, I am the idea of you stuffing stuffing, into the the whole hole of your soul, the teddy bear full of NOTHING.

Share my Experience/Strength/Hope/ through satire and reflection: Ex Petty theif, lying, dying, crying madmen and new career as ?

How do you balance work and home life?

I balance it, by I am working on it **** it. I am working on something, though I don’t quite know what it is yet, because most of my life I have been a career drug addict and alcoholic, whose job was surviving homelessness and trying to hold onto things like apartments and jobs to not be homeless again, how did I balance that? Poorly, that is why I am clean and sober now, and because I got tired of doing bad things.

I am trying right now to re-vamp my life so I am no longer a social vampire, but instead do something good that benefits mankind. I want to use writing and art to help people understand the people whose lifes are like mine, and help those like me do something fulfilling, what does that mean? I don’t quite know yet, I think sharing my experience on here is part of it though, and letting others know there is hope for them, because if I can do it, they can too.

My hope is that my strength to keep trying will help those like me recover as well, and that maybe they will experience joy, and that I will too.

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.

I am in love, I am in love, with voices that shove me, anyone really, who makes me feel dreary, because I am addicted to pain not with painkillers but with pain, addicted is not the right word, maybe

LOVE would be more appropriate.

I love you baby, so much, so very much.

BURN ME

I go round and round in circles, I am the pain of mind that won’t turn off, I am addicted to the cycle of up and down, can’t get off.

I go round and round in circles, I am the pain of mind that won’t turn off, I am addicted to the cycle of up and down, can’t get off.

Why? And what do you mean?

I mean be mean to me, make me cry, I like to be poked in the eye.

Um… dude…

I know, this is weird, I am going to stop embarrassing myself online…

The Laughing Woman, and the Krystal Ship

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.

I colored you like your two loves.

She was a monster, my sweet turtle dove, she was so crazy, and loved black and white, she was a monster, with him she did fight.

Still life

I live the still life, I lay around and do drugs all night.

Your boyfriend was so dull, though you were so great, he just layed around, you two couldn’t relate, I don’t know what you saw in him, that’s a lie yes I did, he was your dealer, and you two had a kid.

I wish I could have had you, and so did, so you say, but because you refused to leave him, I had to go away, now you remain in all likelihood, still doing the same thing, not getting out, but instead giving in.

The addicted live in misery, they live in pain, the lurk in the shadows, they stand in the rain, the litter the streets with garbage and pain, they scream in the night, their lives down the drain, they have no hope, they are told they should die, and looking back it just makes me cry.

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

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

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

I am the schism, of soul from body.

You make me happy

You make me sad

You make me angry.

I want you so bad.

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

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

Perpetually in love, you are morning dove.

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

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

Daily writing prompt

What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?

View all responses

I am a moron. I just ran around for a half hour, cursing because I couldn’t find a nicotine vape.

Nothing is about me, everything is about you, I love you so much, love everything you do, if I speak this way, with this kind of language, no one will see the truth of why I live in anguish.

Nothing is about me, everything is you, I love everything you do, would do anything for you, everything I do is great, sorry you cannot relate, I am over the moon, beaming with perfection.

I live beyond detection.

LIAR LIAR

Sole on fire, of my shoe, step on me, make me a prisoner, I do not desire to be free, I live beyond blame, beyond shame, life in vein.

Heroin, heroin, hear me talk, I am addiction, I love to stalk.

I have already done it, it is complete, I have already started, I am on running fete. Defeat is in sight, so is victory, I am on a daily quest, and always will be, I eat with a spoon, no longer shoot fire, I am on a quest, to evade drug empire.

I am seeking to be, so joyous and housed, so free from madness, no longer a louse.

It is the end of the day, and I am looking for a place to stay.

I am running, I am not sure what I am running from, but I come upon this house, and begin pounding on the door, there are women inside and I start speaking, not even sure what is going to come out of my mouth, just knowing that I am hungry and tired, and can’t walk anymore, because it feels like I have been walking for a really long time.

They invite me to sit down.

I am a house in the middle of nowhere, I am owned by an adult child, and populated with the unfortunates, who travel through the night and day, and come and stay sometimes, and sometimes run away, and never return.

I am not paid for, because I was abandoned a long time ago, and to the eyes of the owner, no one ever comes in and no one ever leaves.

I am covered with lack of care, which is great because on these stairs, no one is there, no one and everyone really, every one and any one who is in need…

I have a tale and a tail about a wailing woman, who thought she lost me, and was having a cow, not a whale.

---

The convenience of the universe astounds me.

I ran into a woman once, literally into her, I was chasing my dog, and she was chasing her’s.

CRASH

I really like coffee, that was stressful, and I dropped mine, do you want to accompany me.

I am tired, so yes, some coffee sounds excellent.

---

This is really good, what were you doing out there chasing your dog?

Huh?

I mean, are you from around here and were just taking a walk? Or, are you site seeing or something? If you are site seeing… I am from the area, and could tell you some places to check out, or just show you… I mean if you want?

That sounds excellent…

TBC

She glowed with radiance she glowed with dark, she glowed with shadow, she glowed with the power of heart, she was so sad, her face was marked with tragedy and abandoned heart, her dog had no name, she knew no call, she followed her owner anyway, girl who was tall, both in stature and in tale, she was a liar, who was prone to fail, addicted to fiction and tall tales,

I am Shelia, that is my name, I am a Shelia, a girl, a dame.

A man of soot told me a lie, and now wolf, do I cry.

I played with fire, and he hurt me bad, stole my dog, now I am sad.

I am standing in a room alone, talking to my best friend, myself or whatever, same thing, and we are laughing.

The wind blows, and we hear this song, that sounds like everything in the universe connecting, all the sounds into a song, a song where all the sounds in the universe make a song, connecting in a way that is sounds like that, and it is so loud, I can no longer hear anything else. For anyone wondering this is a side effect of brain damage from having been up two weeks at time. It is not pleasant, and not desired, and very uncomfotable.

I am in your kitchen, and have your sole, of your shoe, because I have one of those too, and there is nothing you can do, because you can’t run, you have no legs to stand on, and I look at my legs and they are slowly turning the color of the fridge, white, white, white, with death with lack of blood, and……

TBC

Smoke

You stand out in my memory, smoke goddess, of midnight, standing with me in the fog, you and I, fought the day, you shrouded in red, and me shrouded in decay of my mind, unlike you, already gone, already mad, I stood staring out at the river, ranting about nothing, ranting about everything, speaking nothing, speaking everything, talking about the universe, but also saying nothing at all, you were very unique and also every woman I ever met.

That is one of the worst things I have ever heard you say. Every woman is the same?

No, this one was just unreal, and seemed like everyone and no one.

Okay, better, thank you.

It sits upon me

It sits upon me, and I know not why, I am hot and pointed to sky, not really pointed, because I am flat, It is a perch in that way and only that.

I am quite hot, and think that I

May be frying bird, sitting on my eye, I am as sharp with light as a

Needle

Rushing with

Speedle, glowing with chaotic rejection of night, glowing with light, glowing with glow, I am going in the act of gooooooo slow… to the sky, raising I’s up hiiiiiiiigh. I am so very………high.

I am……very toxic………….. aren’t I?

You glow with green fixation, you are pure agitation, you are pained resistance, you are my existance.

That is a little extreme.

hahahahahahhahahahhahhahahhah

Make me fast

Make me slow

Make me go

25, oh 25, how I love you so

25, oh 25, so fast, and yet so slOoOoOw

25, oh 25, a number oh sweeeeeeeeet

25, oh 25, you take me off my feat.

You are a number in my memory, for many a reason, you are a number in my memory, no matter what season, you are so…

I am done thinking about……

You are such an ***

I love you too, baby

She is obviously disfunctional in some sort of way, because she begins laying on my floor, after hearing that she has my heart, coming from someone who has known her for two hours, which is not possible for most. For me, in a way, it is. I will forever remember her like this. Her laugh sounds like someone breathed perfume into a blue balloon. She is the birth of day after a storm, she is the eighteenth birthday of a troubled child. I love her truely, deeply, as much as you can love anyone that you just met. Her name will not be mentioned, because she is a real human being, that I dated for 3 days when I was 18.

They were the best three days of my life, she broke up with me, because she realized I had not lied to her, when I told her I was insane, which screamed at me, while throwing everything I gave her in the three days I was with her right at my face. She wanted to see me cry, she didn’t get to. I got drunk instead, I sometimes feel like I had been drunk until this year, wasted away from the memory of her. She has such a unique name, too bad it will never be revealed online…

She looks for my writing online sometimes, she has written to me since then, and I always pretend it is not me, because she really hurt me, if I am being honest…

Do you see?

I am staring at a mirror, and seeing something that most people would argue is not there, and having a conversation, that most people would argue is with no one, but it is someone I know very well, who is not myself.

She tells me she loves me, and asks me to follow her, she is an idiot. I cannot walk through glass, well not in this way anyway, I can walk on it, not through it. I tell her this and she tells me

“If you step on me, you will surely die”.

I am aware of the problems that come with stepping on shattered glass with two feet, thank you for the reminder.

I come closer, and she kisses me, and my mouth starts bleeding, but she tastes good, like lavender and vanilla.

I walk out of the room, and hear a crash, I go back in the room and the mirror is broken.

I am not capable of what she wants, she says I am, I assure I am not.

We are sitting on the beach, she tells me to look at the sunset. I am staring at my shoes, thinking about being underwater. I am not completely aware that she is still actually there, she might be a hallucination. I have not known her that long, and don’t remember how we met, she makes me nervous.

She tells me to look her in the eyes. I don’t like looking at people. I am awful at direct eye contact.

I tell her there was once a study done about hallucination and direct eye contact. She asks if I am hallucinating now. ****

How do I always end up doing this?

I am looking at you, but I am not, I am engaged in negative thought, which is not out of the ordinary.

I see you, but I don’t. I want to, but I won’t. That is the whole problem. I am never able to accept… never is so final..

In my mind, exists a battle, between up and down, sound and silence.

I assure you, I am delicious.

Food speaks to me, it tells me to eat it, it tells me I will like it so much better than I can even imagine. This is probably because I am

INSANE

I am probably insane… I am actually insane.

I know this, but I wonder sometimes, if there is something to this, something real, if I am hearing something real, that is real to a small segment of people, but experienced collectively, in that it is the same experience shared by a very small segment of the population, so would that not make it real?

I am alone, I am alone, Eye am alone.

No need for anyone, or for phone, or sound, I exist in the resounding sound of down, of put down, deep underground.

I am the act of burrow, I am brow furrowed.

In a cave kind of like this, an abysmal abyss of pure dark bliss, kissed with grey of the act of away, she existed just in this, like this, in bliss.

The dark expanses of this place, painted her face with darkness, with space, with the act of erase, of space, of just exist, in this, pure bliss, death’s kiss.

In a cave that was painted with the power of the abyss,

She lived out her days of swimming in dark waters, and filling her mouth with their mucky dirt, in her world of hurt.

She was a sorrow filled creature, with a deep dark soul, that was like the painted cave, and with misery taking it’s toll.

She was devoted to sadness, it was her favorite drink, and with every sip, she would sit and she would think.

I am sorry for the lack of clarity.

Baby please, get off your feet, and meet me on the ground.

Come back down, and hear the resounding sound of quiet.

You are daylight’s riot.

I wish only for quiet.

You are my fire fly. You are sunlight’s spy, a flashlight in the comfort of night sky. Hanging lights up so you can see, every bit of nature’s landscape clear to you, the lover of blue sky and morning dew.

Nothing of night pleasant or in view, you seek to chase away the dark vacantness, that is my permanent vacation nest. In everything you strive to erase or chase away, is every place I desire to stay.

I am insane.

I am nothing.

I am nothing.

I must be something, but I am nothing.

I am the abandonment of happiness, in exchange for soul, solely eaten by darkness, I am infestation of human soul, solely consumed by dark quest.

In the dark night, a knight on a chess board eats my chest. In the darkness, a night eats my chess piece, I am the infestation of a mind lost.

I am the cost of being in a unhealthy relationship.

I relate to nothing.

I am nothing.

I loved her so much

I loved her so much

I loved her so little, because I am not capable of love.

I am the act of push, then shove.

I miss you, greatly. I was consumed by you.

Please, please, please, let this feeling go away.

Standing at the ocean, a human being looks out into the all consuming darkness….

I remember

I remember standing there with you, but alone, I am not a human being, but one who walks with herd, and cannot answer telephone. I remember walking with herd of sheep, and one unknown. I am not an answerer of call, but a mouth that is sewn, tragically shut, by needle.

I was once a maker of dark colored quilt, sown onto pained skin. I am looking back now, at scarred skin, not speaking of new pain, just of that used to live within, it is no longer, but there is nothing new dwelling in the skin I am wearing.

That is not true.

I know that is not true, but go with me, here.

Okay.

I am not sure where I am going with this actually, thank you for interrupting me.

You’re welcome.

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

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

You are really ****ing arrogant.

Really, I had no idea.

That was great.

So am I.

Obviously.

I know, right.

I am full of hot air

Not a question?

Clearly, can’t you see?

***hole.

To a morning run, such fun it is in the sun. 😉

I love to excercise my eyes, I love to excercise my I. I like to practice the act of hate, of heated despise. I am addicted to writing poems about hate, if you can’t relate, so sorry.

You are so beautiful, you made me complete, you are so beautiful, so lovely, so neat.

You were my baby, we were never apart. I loved you so fully with all that I had, I wanted to give you everything, wanted nothing to be sad.

You are my lady, my love, oh sweet.

So sorry, it did not work out, I am on the other side of the street.

The grass is greener.

The grass is greener.

The grass is greener.

Too bad. So sad. So, sorry.

Love you, forever, sweetie. I am so sad that it didn’t work out. Best wishes, See Clearly.

Pole or I’d

What you thought

What you did

What you thought

What I did

He is a liar

I am away

Forever and ever forgotten forgetter

I hate you Just in time

I am no longer addicted to dimes

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

Mother****er.

You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I win. I won. I win.

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

I love you baby, I love you sweety, I love you deeply, I loved you sweetly, ever and completely, I hate you hunny, I hate you so fully, so much

She was my lover, she was my girl, she was my everything, spinning round and round, and turning upside down, down side up, upside side down, round and over, and upside all around.

You meant nothing, you meant nothing, you meant nothing, you are nothing to me, leave me alone, leave me alone.

I am happy now, this is all in the past.

Looking glass

Looking glass

Looking glass

Alcoholism encased

Addict in blank space

I loved her with everything I had. Baby, oh baby, why did you not give me anything, when I gave you

EVERYTHING I

had

You were big and I was small. you were big and I was small.

She loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not

I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I the lie I am the Eye am I Eye am I I am I

She meant nothing to me, lie

She meant everything to me, and I meant heroin to her.

I counted the amount of days in my life since I was 13. That is all.

It’s so easy, so easy to set you off, to set you off, watch.

I am tunnel vision.

I am simply on a mission to save myself.

Oh, look at you, so sad, too bad, she hurts me so much..

Works so well, works so well, oh voice of Hell.

I am the show of I am right.

Got you, you want to talk about how you are so much better, how is making me want to hurt myself so much better, I am part of the person you claim to be fully and completely, and this is how you treat yourself?????

You are not me.

You want to chase me around, and then pretend that you are not, like somehow I am doing this to you????? I am you. I am you. I am you. You are attacking you.

I am the METHod to your madness.

Oh, that’s healthy.

You are telling me, what is healthy???

You are listening to a song about speed right now..

But, you are me, and whether you like it or not, you are me, and you can’t make me go away, *****.

That is why I don’t talk to you.

Very mature.

You are talking to me about maturity.

Clearly.

No comment.

I am oh so rich, with vice added to a face that asked for nothing but sigh, you gave me nothing but advice.

Isn’t it great? Isn’t it neat?

Aren’t we so very completely in love?

Tell me how much, I need you baby, tell me how much I want you, and I will repeat it so, so, sweetly.

You had my heart

You had my heart and you broke it in half, now looking back, I have to just laugh.

I am no longer resentful

That is a lie.

I know it is, but what am I?

You are a liar.

Thanks, knew that.

I can’t recover from that one, switch tracks.

---

I love you, and see you in everything I do, baby, sweety, honey, isn’t it so funny, when I do it right back to you, mocking you, mocking me, mocking you, and forever we go into the lane, of please baby, please, I am on my knees, stay with me forever and ever, I love you forever and ever, Lydia is divine, so truly and completely sublime.

Ode to 51/50

I am ever so nifty, so crafty

I am an ***hole, I love myself, I am forever, in love with a shelf, full of madness, of mixed drinks, and lost drugs, I am all acting like we are so so in love.

I love you so much, you are so great, you make me feel

You have my heart, sweetheart

You are nothing, ***hole.

Point taken, and proven, so I guess you’re permanent?

I am ever-present, yes.

Color me green, color me striken, I am the quickness of those in dark sickness

You are bitter Hell in a painful shell, of everything on which I doomed to dwell, pain spell, rescast with eyes focused on a past of lack.

Ow, you burned me.

I forgot how I like talking to you, baby.

Me too.

I am the bad guy, and you just wrote a love poem to heroin.

Yes.

Is that what you really think?

Yes.

You realize you are insane?

Yes.

So this is what it has come to, the one word answer game, so you look good and I look bad?

You are not real.

I am staring at an image, but staring at you.

You burned my soul, paper thin, wore it out, oh heroin(e)

I am writing to you, but also writing to that, because I never love anyone else first, not even my cat. I worship a goddess, who is made by spoon fire, who is fed with cotton, and sown with desire, I worship you, baby, but really do not, my love for something else is always too hot, it is lit by a candle, a lighter, a match, it is burned till its ready, hope death don’t I catch, I speak of the past here, because I no longer have, enough veins left to do heroin.

I hate myself, I am an anthem to a bottle and a needle and spoon on dusty shelf, I am all that everyone should never aspire to be,

To see clearly, is not in my power to do, I am forever blinded, by the beauty of you.

What are your favorite emojis?

This is really mean, thanks.
You know I love you, and it is funny.

I hurt my own feelings too, by the way.

Good.

I like the vomitting one, because I used to use it all the time when someone would ask how I felt when I was hung over and they knew I was hung over or didn’t have what I needed to get up and they had the audacity to ask me anyway.

Or, they were concerned and asked you out of concern.

Forcing me to admit weakness in the morning is obnoxious.

Having a human body that is subject to being sick is not a weakness, fearing to admit that you are human is.

Says the person talking to their split personality on the internet.

Burn.

Sea Goddess, Ocean Siren

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

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

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

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin.

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin

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

Are you talking to me?

Not you, but it yes…

Why? You want?

We are not doing that ever again

If you do I am coming to

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

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

I know me neither now.

There was a shadow behind you, that I did not recognize every time I looked at you, and I never thought about it before, and even though this is obviously not you, because I would never put a picture of you on the internet, and you were born a guy, so you looked like a guy, the shadow is there, so I used this.

I altered this so I put the shadow there, obviously. I am talking to myself anyway, who cares.

---

Serve me, please, get on your knees, I am addiction, you are my servant, and I am behind all addicts who fake a smile

---

I am holographic, and I glow, with your inability to admit that you are the same as someone who used to love, who became addicted to the act of push and shove

She hurt you so badly, did she really, was it really Rei Clearly?

That’s not even her real name, you dirty liar.

I came for her because I come for all addicts too, I am addiction and I am what lives in you all, she didn’t screw you over, she screwed herself, in a worship act of bottle on shelf, needle and spoon, all for myself.

Sound familiar, it really should, you are a hypocrite with nose of wood.

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

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

Cemented in My Memory

I am cemented in the memory of my author, I am cemented in the creator of this image, I am cemented by the creator of this image.

In cement it lay, and forever will it stay.

I am covered over, an image protected and rejected by protection, destroyed by idolization, a picture of objectification, a picture of self-love.

Are you sure that is not just what you are seeing because you project yourself on your interpretation of it?

Exactly.

I am correct.

Exactly.

I am an attack on human soul, by protection of image which in fact eats everything whole, creating the potential for the whole image to become a hole.

Manilla, Manilla, in Vanilla, Vanilla, now just a stain on my brain, you make me insane.

I don’t think the image…

I know, just rambling because I like to hear myself talk.

You are typing.

I am also whispering this to myself, because I am insane.

I am syringes filled with glitter paint

Glitter made me pretty, made me green. Glitter painted life so nice and sparkly and made everything a technicolor, beautific painted dream. Glitter made everything sparkle made me love your eyes, painted your face so pretty, painted mine with despise.

I am a horse of a different color.

I am a horse of a different color

I am a horse of a different color

Yellow brick roads painted with blackness of night, make little children run in fright. On roads I walked in shades of black and white, from those roads all people should fight the night and stay away from shades of grey or graying shades coming in shades at all, that make men think they are big or small.

On those roads, which I once did walk, my friends outlines lay on ground in chalk, and nightcrawlers are said to talk about addictions that took them away from families who live far away from the streets of brick that lay littered with madness, stolen from families lurking in sadness.

I spit green fire. I am beautiful. I am a super human, born of strength.

Is that supposed to be me? Loser.. it doesn’t look like me or anyone we know..

I painted you in a way you hate.

This isn’t even painted, it is a digital image re-touch thing.

Don’t you hate stupidity??

Yes.

Double win.

You have nothing of mine, because you do not need it, you are so divine, need no refining touch, so I painted you badly, sadly, tragically so, I love you, though I don’t know you, never will, so sad, too bad, my sweet princess, we will never go to the far below, because I am trying to get over…

Over and over and over, up and out of the of the Hell, that is life without, anyone but me, I do not…

Yes, you do liar.

I am.

I know this, that is why I said it.

We are doing the same thing we used to do at the bar, but this time we are alone, without other people doing it too, and without alcohol or drugs… how does it feel?

Like I am cutting myself off at the knees, but I kind of like it?

Good… me too.

I wonder if this will ever get better…

I don’t think it can get worse than this, so I think we will either die, or it will get better… or it will stay just this bad forever and ever…

How bad is this?

I don’t know, it has always been this… so how bad is it really?

I am still alive? I guess that means it is okay enough…

just hanging out

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

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

Yes.

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

I am the flower of devour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That sucks.

For us or them.

Well, mostly them.

Why?? Not what I expected to hear…

Because, we never have to be truly alone.

Or, we are always more alone than anyone ever.

Other than maybe Gollum on Lord of the rings.

I was so glad to meet you.

I will not write ya, other than sarcastically.

I am aside, because I hide behind narcissism, a deadly schizm, made by fear, I am not able to hear anything critical at all, I will cut my ****ing ears off…

I hate myself enough…

What happened to you that day, when I didn’t care enough to come find you in New York, I was your phone a friend, and I am afraid, always, when I think of you, that you went back home, because of me, because I didn’t care.

We were each others only friends, for a time, albeit short, like my other friends

INABILITY TO MAINTAIN LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIPS

That goes for you too, ****.

I wasn’t the one talking.

Your hand is caught by lack of light

You sit in an empty room, friends have gone, you linger on, wishing for those with your desire for a party dead, you turn your head to the corner of the perpetual lurkers, the pained smirkers, reality deserters, wondering were we go so late, how great a party that never ends, we could be your best friends, we party till we are dead. You think this is funny, because you don’t realize I am serious, and that is not fun, but mere compulsion.

We are those who lurk below, where time goes fast and go slow.

We are those who can’t say no, and slowly it has begun to show.

If you want you can come to Hell, where we the consumers always dwell, it is not advised, and you would do well, to leave us where we rot…

We are no longer at a party, baby, we are merely ****ing crazy,

I am pour, pour, poor

I am more, more, more

Such a chore

I am sure

and a bore to maintain

This level of perpetual

Disdain

we drink till we fall down, we get up and continue to crawl the ground, we stand with powder dust, we have lost all ability to trust our senses, we exist in chaotic hell, under poison spell, we eat our souls through bitter consumption of acid bile.

I smile with the power of intoxication and fixation on meditation on the idea of eventual death. I am the quest for lie die fry. I am a funny lie.

I am watching you

And it makes me so very sad, to see you standing in a place so bad… painted as it is with death of day, a place I am sure from which you should stay far away, given such a pretty face, so tragic it would be for it to be stuck in this space, the place where we have come to haunt, to murmur curses and sadly taunt, the beings that come from above ground land, where I am sure your sweet form must be from and stand on the lands that are populated by better folk, not us my dear, who down here sulk.

There is still time, you can still turn around, you don’t have to be a lurker on this tragic ground, you need not listen to my partner’s voice, just run away, you have a choice.

Above Ground and the Sound of the Lurkers Below, Or the Slow Shouting of GO

She’s got cash, you fool, let’s help her out, she might help us, if we don’t make her go without, so shut your mouth, don’t make her run, come on, dumb ****, let’s have some fun.

Now I am sorry baby, but to get out of here, you are going to need a guide and she is right here, my friend, my friend, she is great, a true sweetheart, with such a pretty face, I’ll be right back, and you will laugh, she looks like me, she is my other half, she will make sure you will be fine and away you’ll go. I am someone you would rather not know, I am sure you will be just fine, look here don’t cry, sweet one, take a beer, go away, baby I am not good with your kind, I am resigned to live in life of decline, so no I don’t have what you thought you need………..

Must not sleep…

I love you baby, sweetie, honey

You make me feel so very funny. It is about you sweetheart, not about the money, I will do anything you say, you just have to make sure that you

I am the ever told lie, I am the act of why why why

I am everything you do being inconsequential, I am the consequences of a life lived as

Ball and chain Ball and Chain Ball and Chain

No not him not him not him

I am addicted to

ACID REIGN

ACID REIGN

Down

Down I…. hope I don’t

Hit the ground, hit the ground, must be up up up

Please don’t let my eyes

Shut. I must remain awake, for fear of what will happen when I am asleep. I can’t watch who is coming on the street if I sleep, please don’t let me fall asleep.

Please baby, don’t go away, I need you so much, you are so sweet, your love is so special, you make me complete. You are my sunshine, my sweet turtle dove, you make me feel everything I thought meant true love. I love everything about you, without you I’ll die, I am ever so sorry I had to lie. You wouldn’t understand, could not tell truth, I need your money, couldn’t tell you.

I needed your money, and feared you would cry, so I told you a little tiny white lie, but don’t worry sweetie, it is okay, I promise I’ll stop, now don’t go away. I promise to always do what you say, now stop your crying and please let me

Tell her everything you need her to hear, she is your source of happiness, now ***hole be sincerce.

I am addiction

I aim for the heart

I take everything you love

I am the act of push and shove

My turtle dove, my turtle dove, you are gone, because I only loved myself and that bottle and needle and spoon on my upper right shelf.

He told me something

Spoke so clearly, told me that he loved me dearly, he had such a beautiful voice, so I felt like I had no choice, but to make him

CRY CRY CRY

I love you sweetheart, hope you

DIE.

You are part of an empire of chaotic obsession with death that seeks the theft of youth by making them afraid of the idea of truth, so they stick themselves with

PINS AND NEEDLES

Sowing into themselves cushioning, that cuts out everything they are, everything they were before, making them sure of nothing other than that they need endless replenshiment of something that is not food, not water, not shelter, or warmth but

GIVE ME MORE LOVE

I am the act of shove, I am the act of push, I am take everything you have.

I am addiction, I am all consuming, I am ever entombing, I will eat your

SOLE

Of your shoe because your real soul belongs only to you, please

Remember that.

Oh, so sad your life went south

I mean that you were spending a night talking to me, I am not worthy of the air that you breathe.

I was very glad you decided to leave,

appreciated the pipe you had up your sleeve,

not very good idea to use a match….not a very good way to get the stuff to catch or melt I mean… I didn’t care… I was entranced by the glow of the light on your hair, but you didn’t seem all there,

I am so tired of the tragic tweekers

Pretty women, darkness seekers, telling people like me you want something better and hanging out with people like me… so glad you decided to catch your ride and go back to him, I wasn’t worth your time anyway.

You provide the only light I see, I am nothing, you are free to leave, I live in Hell, and that’s okay, I am nothing, go away

I am ranting and raving about how it is the only thing, that makes everything allllll riiiiiiiiiiight…………..she is crying hard, I can hear it, but I can’t see clearly……… I think she is telling me to stop because she thinks I am going to die or something……. I don’t think I am going to die…. the two drugs negate eachother… I tell her I’ll be fine, that she can leave if I am disturbing her.

I can’t see you very well

Please get down and go away

I am really not equiped to deal with this

You don’t even know me, and I can assure you I won’t be……missed…….

She tells me she is not getting down, until I get up off the ground. I tell her no and that I will be fine, she doesn’t know me, my life is mine……..I can ruin it if I want…….

Please leave me alone

I am fine

I am resigned to this

This is my space

of

Errrrrrrrrrrraaaaassssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I hate myself…. I lived in Hell…… and can’t get past….. the past in which I dwell….

You were so kind to try to help me, and I pushed you and everyone else away…..

Memory, memory, of things that were not important enough to me to stop………… making people cry when they only wished I wouldn’t die…

I am so sorry, I never even bothered to learn your name, you saved my life, and I never even bothered to learn your name.

I am walking by myself, like always every night, possessed by bottle on the shelf of a wall that is abandoned, by all who do not stand in the wreck that my life has landed in

I am darkness, I am pain, I am embodied disdain.

I am dark acid rain

Reigning down on soul of nothing

I have taken up to living. here… my home is here..

Yes, my dear, I have beer, and nothing… I have nothing to…

This is my home.. this is alone.. my home…

If that’s what you call this …in this building… she thinks this is interesting… drunken creature… following me…

Calls me brave, saying I made some stand against something…that I am standing up for something…. myself I assume.. I stand in my own tomb….possessed by the fire of chaotic desire to consume….

I am glamorization of Hell

I am woman’s desire to dispell everything her parent’s told her not to do

I am where you shouldn’t be

I am do not envy me

She helps me light a fire, tells me she wants to be like me.. free….

She does not see what is really there, illuminated godess… standing at the corner of a dark cliff, wanting to jump

Wanting this….

What is it you want

You want this?

Why?

She talks to me for an hour, and for an hour everything is alright, she has to leave in the morning promises to come back, promises she actually meant everything she said.. I know she is lying…… I am nothing but a night of adventure.. I am nothing but the desire to deny potential…

I am the glamorization of a life of loss..

I am the glamorization of the freedom that is the chains of addiction..

I never see her again because heroine’s do not save heroin addicts…

I have to save myself……

Maybe if I do… one day I will see someone like you again.

I know you so well, know where you go, where you dwell, hold the keys to just as well, come to taunt, come to taunt, make your head swell, know how to make you come back, your are never alone, never alone, I am the gaurdian of everything you believe because you are a resident at Misery’s hotel.

What is behind the soul resigned to perpetual de

CLINGING

CLING

ING

It comes in dark night

I am the ing, the exstention of what it means to be, you live in me, you live

But, do you?

I don’t know, isn’t this what it is to be alive?

Is it really?

I came for your best friend, last night while you were sleeping…………

I would know, I would know, I would know. That isn’t so, she lives with me, lives with me, we are together, always and forever

YOU ARE DISGUSTING

I am nothing.

I know this.

Hey, what are you doing?

You know the thing we do everyday… talking to voices from that place we go..

Misery, misery,

You are so near and dear to me

How I love to

ROW

ROW

I am the act of go, I am the act of go

GoOoOoO

OoOoOo

ING

ing

i n g

How does it feel to be back?

How does it feel……….

How does it

I am the act of

ING

I never go, I never go, I never go

Do you hear the sound?

What are you doing?

I am going nuts, but it’s interesting, I can control it a little bit now, I think the whole meditation thing is working, if I let my crazy out in little bits I don’t hallucinate as bad.

It’s working for me too..

Same person.

Right.

″‘Precious, precious, precious!’ Gollum cried. ‘My Precious! O my Precious!’ And with that, even as his eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize, he stepped too far, toppled, wavered for a moment on the brink, and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last wail precious, and he was gone.”

J.R.R. Tolkein The Return of The King

“Misery misery! Hobbits won’t kill us, nice hobbits.”

J.R.R. Tolkein, The Two Towers

Do you see you?

Yes.

I see me too.

---

Put me in, try me on, I make everything easy.

I make life, black and white.

I make every fight yours.

Always and forever

You are the winner

Always and forever

---

And so we go, below….

I put things in that make my caring spread thing.

I put things in that make me want nothing else, except my own needs fulfilled to have my precious needs fullfilled.

I put on airs to make me not care when you touch me that way because it brings me closer to getting what I want, my precious…. my precious…..

I want you so my precious

Do you see me clearly now?

Do you see how

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSYYYYYYYYYYYY

It is…….to lose oneself…. in want…..

Nueral Pathways

I will follow him
Follow him wherever he may go
And near him, I always will be
For nothing can keep me away
He is my destiny

Are you claiming to be a god?

No, I am saying I was doing what the universe told me to.

I pushed a fox out of hole, and he died because I am selfish, or was anyway, I think someone ate him.

The streets of this country are riddled with screaming, every street corner, ever cover of darkness, is surrounded by the screaming criers of the night, who scream in languages only some can understand.

They talk to me, clearly, not her name, but meaning I understand them, and they speak to me in plain English, because that is the language of the country I am in, unofficially.

We talk of survival, not manipulation, but survival, of who is the best person to ask for money, who will likely hand over a dollar, I am good at this, good at awkward prolonged eye contact, I help them, my fellow nightcriers.

I miss them dearly, clearly, not her name, **** her name.

They are just like everyone else, except their lives have been riddled with danger, and because they are addicts they used or drank about it, and the judgement of others, bothers me endlessly.

Untitled

I am re-painter, not a re-stainer, and a un-tragic complainer, complaining about things that are no longer here, just an addict learning to ****ing feel.

This is a picture of flowers

I am small, made by meditation.

I am focused on for

One second and now this.

Rose, rose where is my

Rose

I am a metaphor, I am dying, but I am trying, so hard to keep someone somewhere because what I really am is a thought

Brought to someone by disease

I am the dissing of easment.

I am lack of apeasement.

Get out.

I win.

I am red painted roses.

In a garden of suposes.

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

Yeah, they remind me that I get acid reflux from drinking, because alcoholism has eaten my stomach lining, killed sensation in my hands, and caused my mental illness to get worse.

Thumbs up?

For realizing that or for destroying myself?

Which one do you think?

Both?

Wrong.

Toxic thoughts

I am stained, ever the same as always, with purple, ever the same as I was, but for a different reason

Whining, wining, not wining, not whining but winning slowly, a battle with a stain, destain, de-stain.

Polaroid of the void,

I am wind up toy

I was running off a cliff

Forever I was adrift

But, I am finding now

Forever out of cloud

Do you paint a way out?

Do you tell a store of a life without

Do you speak of escape or revival

Loss or survival?

I am free, I am free, I am free

Just to be

Just to be

Yeah, I am.

Me too.

I know.

How do you know?

I can hear you think too, and you are not as bad as you think. I never hated you, and your ex was a jerk, just like mine, because they are the same jerk.

I know they are the same jerk. I just hate myself more.

That is because you are worse at lying than me.

Why is that?

You are more real than me. I am a facade made of stardust.

That makes me sad.

Everything makes you sad.

That one was really mean.

I know, I am sorry.

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.

I am the Crow 2.

I am the crow too.

I am the crow to, as well, as an adjective of a human being who steals from other human beings while they are not looking.

I am the crow, two

There are two of me.

Welcome to Hell, Misery painted with wine, and whinning. no winning just whinning, from spendthrift dime stealers.

Penny for your thoughts?

No I am sparring not sparing change.

I am disdain, acid reign, wishing for soul washing rain.

Ahahahahahhhahahahhahhhahahahhahahahhahhahahhahahhahhahhahahah

I am the horrors of walking next to an active user.

I am the non-heroic heroin user.

I am resentment of past action.

I am true admissions of a soul attacking soul attacker

I am hopefully getting over this.

I am actively seeking forgiveness.

I know this comes from something higher.

But I am more comfortable crucifying myself.

I am more comfortable doing this to myself.

I need help.

ahhhahahhahhahhahahhhahahhahhahahhahhahahhahha

I have no tent, because I can fly so high, that I need not sleep, because I am high as Hades.

I am a looter of the looted by life, I am the riddler of strife.

I am the stealer of unwatched things, I am heroin addict, unwatched, on meth, stealing while you sleep to buy drugs.

I am the confessions of an ***hole, who is no longer on drugs.

I loved you once, but now I can’t and I don’t want to, so I don’t

I loved you multiple times, and still do, and I am just trying to be honest with you

Hey, ***hole, you’re talking to a glass.

I know…

I think I have a problem with peace, consumed with moving, digging perpetually beneath, unable to stop and not do, wishing always for something new, I can’t sit still, that is why I think I was obsessed with you.

Dragon eating its own tell, possessing nothing was just as well, I live in inner Hell, because I can’t bring myself out sometimes, uncomfortable with peace, living in internal, eternal, infernal mind bind.

I tied my own hands, behind my back, because I feel being free, and love the feeling of under attack.

Living in perpetual lack of self.

Bottled emotions of alcohol on shelf.

I can’t be myself, because myself was built around you, who am I even without the drugs and booze I used to use???

I got up early with you, my friend, the one who I was always fighting against, I realize now I was fighting me, engaged in constant battle of insanity, fighting light to see in dark, fighting vision on quest of mark, I fight you but in so doing, poision applies to skin, and reason spewing out of my mouth and from my head, wishing for life, but fighting the dead.

Questing for sun, but lurking in dark, I am the eternal question mark.

I fight truth, because I can’t look in the mirror

I forgot what I was talking about. Oh, well.

This is about powerlessness, your favorite thing, and water is cleansing.

OoO Look at you, show off.

OoO Look at you show off.

That is mature.

Says the most mature person in the world.

I enjoyed the Easter thing, did you?

I wasn’t there, you were.

Yeah, you were. You were just uncomfortable.

I can tell you are glad you won, stop rubbing my nose in it.

Stop thinking about putting things up your nose then.

I realize this now, why am I doing this?

I don’t know.

I am so alone.

I feel like if I don’t stop, I will not have to be alone.

I can’t move on, because I can’t be alone.

Untitled

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.

Do you remember?

Do you remember?

I know right?

I am walking out of a dark cave.

I am the assending assention of the never pretender.

I am kindness’s defender.

She was always trying to convince me that I had done something I had not done, she would tell me that I stole our ****. It was my ****.

Justin would do the same thing, he was sleeping with that lady, and he would give money to her, and then accuse me of stealing it.

She said I did it once because I think she really thought you were cheating on him with a guy named Damien.

Hahahhahahhahahhahahaahahaha! That is insane.

No, the truth is actually insane, Lydia.

You remembered it.

I did it just now.

Untitled

Alcoholism

A child in their teens poses a question in this novel I am reading, that I feel compelled to answer, because I feel it applies to me.

Had all those homeless people in the parks and subways of Manhattan, just not paid attention in class?

Lisa Unger, Darkness My Old Friend

No, Willow. I paid attention in class, I have a MA in Public Policy and graduated with 3.43. I have an minor in philosophy, and my BA is in Political Science, which I graduated with a 3.2 in because I was drinking heavily the whole time.

I paid attention in class, but realized that Political Science caused me to drink and use drugs, but it is the only subject other than fiction and Philosophy that interested me, because it was about the nature of man. I found myself with nothing to do with my life because the system was criminal, or I thought it to be, so I decided if I could not get behind it, I would slowly die, on the streets. I am not a brave person, but I am recovering from mindslaying fear, and going to use my writing to do something positive eventually.

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

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

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

I married sin, it ate me from within.

I married hate, it made me quite irate.

I married wrath, it made me slay a calf.

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

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

OUT OUT OUT

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

Drive me INSANE

Permanently.

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

****

Run.

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

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

He likes me now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hahahhahhahahhahhaahhahhahahhahha

no no no no no.

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

Ode to Schizophrenia.

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

inner turmoil.

Churning oil.

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

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

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

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

Ahhahahaahahhahahhahahahha

You can’t get me, I forgave myself.

What brings you to these woods, my woods, what do you want?

You are not desired here intruder, and should leave, having, as you do dominion over the whole expanse outside these woods, while I have nothing but them.

There is no reason for your presence hear, there are plenty of other woods, in areas much like this, that you can row your little boat in the river of.

This is the only spot that has yet to be discovered by the park rangers damn it, and it is the only spot you decided to row your stupid little boat.

Your boat sucks, and I hate you.

**** it. I dropped my cigarette. ****. I hate you. Now it’s ****ing wet.

The real deal

If you don’t want it, let me use it?

No.

We had a deal, and you said you would let me use it at least sometimes? Remember that? I save your life, and I get to a person sometimes???

I know, but you’re going to **** up my life.

You’re life is already ****ed up, and no I am not. I am just going to.. look I don’t know what I am going to do… but we had a deal, and don’t be an ***hole. I shouldn’t have to explain to you what I do, as much as you shouldn’t have to explain what you do.

It’s my body.

Wrong. It was your’s and then I saved your life, in exchange for you use of human form.

That’s ****ed up.

You made the deal.

I know and now I regret it.

Well, it’s reversable.

How?

I kill you right here, right now, where you stand.

Seriously???

No.

Fine, that was funny, so take it, but don’t give it back with tickets, and this time don’t leave and leave me in jail to pick up peices.

Drunk in public is not even a serious charge.

I don’t care, waking up in a flooded cell naked, sucks.

I don’t like wet clothes.

Neither do I.

Fine, deal?

Yeah, see you later.

I see no end, to your voice, see no end to no choice,

I hear you in my head, over and over,

Saying things you said, that I ignored, shut you out.

I would at the time rather have lived without

Hearing that you hated me, wished me to know with impunity, but now I wonder, and I fear,

Whether you were right and so my dear,

I am so sorry for shutting out

All words you said, because I live in doubt, had I listened, had I changed, would I still be in such pain??

Would we both be better now? If I stopped using then, had put it down, if I had agreed, done what you said, would I still be alone and dead inside

I am right now. I wish I had something not life without.

I was stupid. I was wrong, and now I wish I just had gone

Along with anything you did or said and maybe I would not wish I was dead.

all sensations leading down to the sensation of life down drain, extension of pain, after dedication of life spent in vein, I mean in vain…….

I had my own death planned out since I was, I don’t know 14. A clever escape from a life of running a race into nothing, a condolence for a life spent on nothing but purchasing pain… in vain, in vein.

I am heroic.

Heroine, heroine, where art there heroine?

I like to drop the e’s sometimes.

X is one hell of a drug.

Trigger. Trigger. Trigger.

This is fun.

TOXIC TOXIC
WORD VOMIT
ACID BILE
Okay, I am done.

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

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.