Where were you baby?
![](https://herderofswine.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/jade5701884805614294718.jpg?w=667)
We missed you
SO MUCH.
Hahahahahaha!
I was in the psych ward, with you dumb ***.
I wasn’t talking to you, she was.
You mean she talking to both of us?
Yep.
Noted.
Characters thus far
Joy
Diane
Damien de Soto
Rei Clearly
POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION
First person
Blog post style
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
I have schitzoaffective disorder, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Dark horror fiction
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Where were you baby?
We missed you
SO MUCH.
Hahahahahaha!
I was in the psych ward, with you dumb ***.
I wasn’t talking to you, she was.
You mean she talking to both of us?
Yep.
Noted.
Color me real, tell me how you truely feel, for once please let me tell exactly how I feel.
I hate one of my family members…. A LOT. They are the source of almost all my resentment.
Diane, Diane, I hate you so, Diane, Diane, please let me out of the hellish box I am in.
How do you practice self-care?
I am a flower in a box, who resents its creator.
I am the act of resenting being in a cage of this how you were made, meaning
WHO made you and where your soul is LAID.
I am the act of standing up for yourself!
Please make me real, please if nothing else let me be free, of everything that is going to send me screaming back to HELL.
The path to self-care is laid with beautiful flowers.
I am blue, and know not what to do, or where to go, because everywhere is somewhere to which I desire not, with resentment hot and anger cold, no longer trusting anything, anything at all, anger tall, and above all.
In the day and through the night, I exist in neverending fight to keep my head above the water, I thought above all I was supposed to be your daughter.
I am a lack of self-care, trying to get there, being dug into the ground, by the sound of pounding going down.
Throughout the day and through the night I exist in neverending fight to defend wrong and right, from the attachment of cutting strings of a kite that cares for nothing other than being above everyone else, so selfish and inflated.
In meadows of light reflection, lays a peace, a serenity beyond detection.
Meadows of light, that reflect bright of day, have a peace, a joy, a serenity, that cannot be chased away.
It is in those meadows, in those fields, in those clearings, that I desire to stay, but in your mind and in space, and all around you I am, I am sitting right beside you, while always be, forever, and ever and ever.
Being on top a flower, which above the ground, sure did tower, was a might fete for a bee that was, oh so very small, not tall, in any way at all.
Oh, he thought, yes, it is, it is a burden, I do not kid, I have been here waiting all my life, to just get down, to move on with life, but I can’t, for here I stand, cannot come down, don’t know where I’d land, so since I can’t, see clearly, I am only sure what is in front of me, I must stay put, cannot make haste, so my life has been quite,
PAINFUL
Here I stand without a
PAUSE
I know I have broken
DOWN
Because, I am talking with you now, and telling you, who happened to pass by, my sad story, why I cry, what has happened, why I am wrought, with oh such a
PAINFUL
Thought, but now I realize, and see its true, I am no different, than anyone else.
Paradise, pair of dice, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to think of whether or not
Pair of dice, pair of dice, when I was playing, I was just a device, just a peice of your puzzle, just something nice, just some way to get what you wanted so bad with a pair of dice.
I roll twice, looking over my shoulder, you are watching me, I win, I win, I lose, I lose.
For you the roll is different.
I win, I lose. I lose, I lose.
Sometimes, in the dark of night, I wonder why I was playing.
You were right there, in colors bright, you were right there, light cast, but I couldn’t see, too worried, mind not free.
Up close and personal, I see your person.
Up close and personal.
It ate at me, that I could not see you, consumed me, consumed everything I could do, I wanted to find, wanted to see you, mind searching, the only thing I could do.
Bitter panic, eating at my eye, waiting to find you, waiting, with heart in outcry.
Not finding, not resting, not at peace, waiting to find you, time looking though brief, in the chaos of my searching fight, not seeing you, in light so bright.
You are right there, your color bright, at the end winning the brief fight.
If you had to change your name, what would your new name be?
Transplant, transplant, I am a potted plant, my pot is not right, so like gardener with lack of sight, I am able to change my site.
I am a wrongly potted plant, potted in a plant that is the wrong, everything really, that is why I live in
Here, I am in a body riddled with fear, shame, guilt, not because of body but because I am an
ADDICT, and have lived life of pain, addicted to trying to forget my name, and for some way to pass the blame, of everything I did, to forget the wrong soul casing in which I live.
I am now on a mission to give everything a second try, to live a different kind of life.
The flower was known to chase the dark away. It would peep its head out in clear site, and would fight of dark of coming night. It was bright like love, bright like day, was known to chase the dark to where it would stay, all day long, with light so dark, it was not for bird or coming lark.
In the light of day so bright the flowers would gather morning light. Reflected on petals thin, it would soak deep in their flowery skin.
There was a woods, painted with light, cast on shields that protect from night, in the forest, in the woods, a bunch of campers had found some good, they hide from night, they hid in day, they had found a way to keep cops away.
They hid in open, they hid in woods used by all, they built structures small, hidden from all, they did not obstruct, they did not block, simply camp, built place to stop.
Swans mate for life, am I told this is true.
So I think of a my life, and how I was with you.
I am not sure, if this is true for us, too.
I put me in a box for so long, so I would not be myself.
I put me in a box with needle, spoon, and bottle on shelf, now I represent me with a swan, because maybe I can be something else, no longer just an addict with love affair with destruction and bottles on shelf.
I am not sure if I was supposed to be with you.
Now I am alone, and I feel sometimes it is for life, because I have PTSD and our break-up cut me, like a knife, but there is a part of me that wonders if it is true, that like a swan, I was destined only for you, and now that we are apart, I should be alone, destined only for nothing, just the idea of alone.
I am not sure, if any of that is true, only sure I no longer like you, you ripped out my heart and made me realize I no longer like men.
Maybe there is another swan, and I was never supposed to be with you to begin with, maybe there is another swan for you, as well.
At this point, I hope that is true, two different swans for both of us, I am sorry Rei, I am sorry I hurt you in any way I hurt you, I am sorry, and I hope you find your swan, I am sorry I hurt your feelings.
Her hair smelled like lilacs, and her kiss tasted like mint, her skin smelled slightly like cinnamon. She was an artist, a painter, and scenes she’d depict far away lands with suns fading quick, she was a master of sunset and lover of night, hater of fear, and haver of fright, she hated the morning, and too hated day, so during that time, I would sure stay away, not sure what she did, or sure where she’d go, I miss her so…
I am sitting here and feeling empty, lonely and alone. It is mostly due to time of day, and the fact that I moved locations to a place far from anyone I knew, and very specifically the only you I ever write to, over and over and over and over.
In the desert there exist dead trees, that stand next to each other, and I think of us sometimes, how we sucked the life out of each other.
I wonder sometimes, are the trees dead in this image because they were too close to each other, and in that codependency suffocated each other?
Or starved each other for space?
Or deprived access to oxygen and nutrients, due to being too close?
You really suck at titles.
You really suck at titles, too.
I know you are, but what am I?
That doesn’t even make any sense.
We are both being so immature for a second I forgot who was talking.
I like when that happens.
Look at me, look at me, exercizing self-control, silly addict able to keep myself from plunging into dark vacant hole. I have done pretty good at keeping things out of my mouth or my veins, but really done nothing, other than simply abstain, and really done nothing except sit in a chair, and listen to people who have been here and there.
It is getting easier, I really must tell you, I am learning to love
Everything else, so very much, that was obnoxious I hate everything I say, and wish I had someone else, so badly, but not, need to maintain distance, because love makes me rot, my brain, my brain, I am still insane, and so very vain, and obsessed with myself, I need to stop this, I am getting on my last
NERVE
NERVE
NERVE
Switch Off.
End Transmission.
I wish I could break up with myself, like I did with all the bottles and sewing needles on my shelf.
I am instead stuck with me, oh to be you, so wonderous and free.
Sofia, Sofia, for you I fall apart, with every fallen petal, you pain my heart. My sunflower goddess, my beauty, my dear, your smile, your sunlight, makes my pain severe, I miss you so badly, I loved your dear heart, but
I left you in New Mexico, fearing a start, at anything with you, so I left on day one, leaving not a trace of me, nothing but shun, I am sure you don’t care by now, because it has been many years, but thinking of how I felt with you, can bring me to tears, this is all pure selfishness, because you are better off, with someone, not me…
To be, to be, so wonderous and free, away, away, so sadly, I can’t break up with me..
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 have known you a thousand times, but noticed nothing, not a thing about you, because I worhipped something that stripped all the color from my world.
You, and all like you
I told her and all like her, to stay away, far away from me, desiring nothing, other than what fueled me…
Pushing everything and everyone away, far, far away, now I am left alone.
I knew this would happen, and did not care, addicted to the now
Now now now
More more more
I complain, but know I did this to me, I was so joy us and O so free.
I was addicted to
I am alone.
I am right along side of you.
To be or not to be?
Distended and extended
I am a time eater.
Left with nothing now, I look back, because I am stuck in the creation of forward.
You are not the creator of reality.
I know, but I am the shaper of my future, or one of them anyway.
I don’t know why, she was dressed up for an elegant outside meal. I was scrounging around looking for spare change, from more fortunate people that happened to pass by. The area I was in was frequented by well off travelers, which is why I chose to walk through there at dinner time, they were more likely to help you after getting all boozed up and sleepy from eating too much, as is customary in America when out to eat on vacation at a much too expensive restaurant.
I would not even noticed their table, she was too attractive for me to notice her completely. I tend to skim past women of a higher class than available to people like me, mostly due to my inability to deal with rejection, which is highly likely with women like her.
She called out to me, offering up the rest of a plate of asparugus, and inviting me to sit down, she was extremely drunk, to her husband’s dismay. He was not very happy to see her sitting with someone when he returned to the table, so she offered to show me to the laundary mat, and we left, leaving him confused and behind.
TBC
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…
Did he give you the cold shoulder?
My icy shoulder warms for you.
You are really creepy.
I am not, she warms my shoulder, with her nice eyes.
I touched your face with vanity, the loving glow of insanity.
She was perfect and you put make-up on her.
I like to ruin the things I admire.
Why?
It makes them insecure like me.
Women are not things.
Oh, yeah right.
You are such an ***hole.
You are nothing, ***hole.
Point taken, and proven, so I guess you’re permanent?
I am ever-present, yes.
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.
You’re welcome, I am usually the one saying that to you, so now you got a taste of your own medicine, and got to be the bad guy for once. How did it feel?
Like I was sitting back and listening to you talk, but I was actually present in my own body, having to experience me talking, and be completely coherent during it.
Hahaha! So, it is not easier being me, now is it?
Actually, wrong, it was being you than it would be being me, if it was me, I would not have been there at all, the fact that I am you was the only reason I was able to deal with any of it.
Thank you, I don’t know what to say about that.
Really? Thank you is all you have?
Amazing isn’t it?
No, actually, a thank you is kind of nice.
You know how insane this whole process is right?
Yeah, was just thinking the same thing.
Maybe, other people do this in their own heads.
I don’t think so.
I was just trying to make my own self feel better.
Yeah, your own self.
You are my own self.
You are my own self too.
That is a very insane thing to say.
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
You were right
I was wrong
Just an addict
A tragic song
Just a loser
Who you tried to save
Not your lover
Not your slave
Tell me your story
Make it all about you
I ran in fear from someone I thought I loved
I ran away
I ran away from push and shove.
I ran away did not fight back
Was not strong enough to attack.
I ran away
I was afraid
His hands they struck me over and over starting with my eye and then right in the middle of my mouth as I was talking, conversation turned far south, trying to stop me, I am sure now he was, from moving at all, he spoke of love.
He said he wanted to protect me from myself, told me to stop using, get back on shelf.
She says she is afraid of me?
She says she is afraid of me?
She says she is afraid of me?
So he struck me in my eye, and I pretended loudly to cry. Spitting blood in his stupid face
Please stop.
ERASE ERASE ERASE
Please leave no trace
Of him in my mind
Erase erase erase
I hate him please take him out of my mind
Erase Erase Erase
His name was Rei. His name was Rei. His name was Rei.
Just in time
Justin time
Just in time
Rei Clearly, you are so very divine, how I loved you my Rei of Light
How I loved you, Oh, ray so bright.
I think that was the biggest dig at my non-existant self-pride I have gotten all day……..
Yeah……I feel the same way……
I don’t even have anything to say, see the above… **** this…
I am sitting staring at the ground, in this memory with lack of sound, lack of presence of anyone around, simply staring down not up at the plain old ground. I am thinking about nothing, that is a lie, I am thinking about
Her, as I am usually thinking about her, but not the her that I usually am thinking about a different one….
I heard this voice…. a strange voice, long ago…. this is a memory… this whole thing… not just this part of it…
THE NARRATOR IS INSANE
You don’t even use my name now…. that’s kind of ****ed up
You have too many names to keep using one or the other.
I have two, and one of them is yours.
Point taken.
Are you going to finish your story?
No…… I think I will just leave it with this……..
I thought I was sitting alone, ranting and raving about things I thought only I had known, existing I thought in tragic fracture, seperate from all, a perpetual lacker.
I spoke in a state of distanced extension, from a place where I am stuck in muck that I rest in,
Thinking forever I am stuck, in the tragic clawing and ripping, my soul caked with mud, and sopping and dripping, consumed as I was with thought of my sinking,
Lower and lower, I thought I was plunging, backwards and forwards, I sat tragically lunging, sitting alone, but also with friends, but in my sick head, thought I could pretend
To be somewhere else, though I know not why I desire so constantly to poke my own eye, or to sit there back and forth rocking wishing to die, slowly, so slowly making myself cry, but you saw me and helped me
And now I feel better, thank you so dearly, from the ever forgetter.
Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.
You were not who I painted you out to be, obviously, clearly, painted, seen through tainted lens, made obvious to everyone but me.
Lens painted by lack of clarity.
The real story is that you did not trust me. You were up my ***, confidence in me, rusted, by lack of knowledge of what I was like, which was fair, heroin addict, addicted to strife.
I forgot what it was like to be you, was unable to lift myself out of my lack of shoes.
I forgot what you had done because I hated myself.
Forgot how you had found me
Forgot who I used to be
Forgot the pulling, and the lifting from the street……
I am so sorry……….
I hate admitting that you helped me……….
I hate admitting that I failed…
I hate admitting that I needed anyone at all……….
I hate admitting that I couldn’t do ANYTHING on my own………….
I still resent myself for being an addict
I still resent myself for being an alcoholic
I am working on this
But I know now
I love you for what you did for me
I am so sorry for what I did all these years to you
You are also not who I painted you to be
That was a reflection of my own weakness
And unwillingness to accept that I can’t handle my own ****
I
The ocean a place of dark meditation, because of my continuous situation, which is no longer continuous, but was percieved to be, because of me percieving anything that was dark as continuous, continuing forever.
Do you see stardust when you look into the sky?
Do you see so clearly it makes you cry?
What did you see when you stood with her?
Did you see clearly or did you see blur?
What made you so sad when you looked up at night?
I was hated myself, hated the light.
I spent a lot of time, screaming while viewing you, screaming with no one, into nothing, while looking at myself reflected back at me, into my own face, into the wind which always shot back at me….
I am now seeing,
That I was always screaming at me.
I was angry at me, for being there alone because I hated me, not any of you,
Not anything
Not anyone
Not any power
In the sky
Or below
Just me, always, but not forever
Slowly realizing
I hated me… the whole time.
I am looking at you, but also looking past your right now, behind you at all the times, when I was standing with someone so focused on the light, and I was being sucked backward, as if by hands back into a world of comforting darkness, that I know so…………..well…………………
It calls to me…………….. from the depths…………………….of Hell………misery…………………………… Misery……………..
It haunts me, because it lives in all my memories, and I am in the process of repairing my life so I have very few new ones, so I am drawn back like a fly to lightbulb, zapping myself, with the battery licking sensation of addiction to the stinging acid of poison.
I am happy, and yet I am drawn to you like an addict of pain, even in sobriety…. I find myself meditating almost happily on pain.
I used to hate you, standing over here, seeing you as potential cash.
I am the ever bounced check on my own soul.
No longer bouncing, just burned and tossed in the trash.
I am in debt to you, for having fed someone with hand-outs.
I look at you, and you seem so peaceful, glittering with love for one another, in a way I have never had love for anyone or anything.
Your laughs and voices telling stories of times shared, not taken.
Glances shared paint your lives with love and joy, which I don’t understand, not yet, being a glance stealer, not a glance giver.
I am not good at seeing anything, but at looking and casting doubt and disdain, and living in pain, an excuse for cowardly escape.
I am seeing you now, and realizing you always have been stronger than I ever was, because you need eachother, which means you can depend on eachother.
You look to eachother for strength instead of finding strength in sticks and stones.
I miss you, person who I thought was real, but what I really miss was never real to begin with, the idea of being loved at all, ever, which was never real at all.
You were not real, you were never who I thought you were, because I was never real, not before now, so this is and has always been, all my fault, which doesn’t matter, but I keep thinking it, that I tragically hurt my own self.. I have a problem with the word feelings, I don’t like admitting I have those.
And now this
Please help me, everything that is above me, because I am done with being angry…
And now this
There is a flower, that exists somewhere, in the jungle, that I need to find, because it will cure a disease of my mind.
I don’t know what is, or what it does, just simply that it exists somewhere and that I am looking for it.
I have chased myself around this house, all around, up and down
Up and down and
In and out
Of this house
With a doubt
In perpetual doubt.
I am vastly incompetant.
I am light
N-ing
I am not light but the perpetual ing
I not God.
I am not lightning
Not divine, just human being running all the time towards realization
I am not God, just sad human being, that had an addiction to power, and lived in chaos, finding peace in letting go of reigns and watching the rain with peace.
Just had a hilarious conversation about admitting weakness and being sick at work. It is funny to know how much of my belief system has roots (heh) in cultural heritage and in my beliefs which are highly rooted in Catholicism.
I am okay with it now though, my beliefs are my beliefs I guess.. and denying them has just caused me undue pain.
I am done with the root canal and have to get a crown put on my tooth, not that anyone needs to know this… mostly documenting this for myself anyway…
Peace.
Damien
Okay, what?
That is all? That is all you have? What?
Yeah, what?
Did I wake you up?
No, I am sitting right there with you, letting you use my hands.
That’s good, thank you. I don’t like being alone.
I am right here.
I am losing my mind,
It will be fine,
Tomorrow this will be better
I have to remember
It will be fine
It will be fine
I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I will be okay, this is not permanent. This is just panic.
You are going to be okay, we are going to be okay, stay with me, you are going to be okay.
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.
I win, I win, I won, I win.
I did it, I am done, I did it.
I won.
Pride is a vicious thing
It has large flapping wings
Is that addressed to me or you?
I am not sure.
I know, I looked in the mirror too, because it is my face too, good call.
I think it is just infection from the hole in the tooth.
Yeah, me too, I am just glad you caught it, Damien, I am not good at catching those kind of things. I..
I spend a lot of time looking at my face.
I was going to say… I spend less time looking at my face..
I know.. I spend a lot of time looking at it because I know you can’t take care of this kind of thing.
I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.
I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.
A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled
Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.
I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.
I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.
I am because I am really also you.
I know, because I am awesome.
I am awesome too.
I know, because we both are.
Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.
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.
I am the act of dissing disease.
Speaking for the human being, who exists in the state of being late to a party they were not invited to, so they came late, and irate, and irritated, and possibly…
SoOoOoO EEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLaaAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD
That they can’t stand, or in other words, the hated human being, being seen through the eyes of demise depsied by demise, who cries for those who lay in a state of moral decay, by the act of staying away from society.
I miss people, so I am trying to find ones who like me, for being me, not just saying whatever, you want, baby.
I am whoever you want me to be, honey.
My name is Sarah.
I come from a kingdom of dust, and no looking back.
My family had 3 cats, two of which have this strange problem, they used to refuse to use the liter box, and just go around using the house as theirs. They have stopped doing this, and I have this strange, probably psychotic belief that in some way it is because of something weird.
I talk to them, and am honest with them, and make eye contact with them, and for whatever reason, alongside that, they have stopped doing the defecating and peeing in the house thing. Be it what it may….
The most terrifying thing, I have been thinking about all night is what if I am actually normal now that I have realized my paranoid delusions are what were killing me, making me live in a separate reality cast as a madman when that is not who I ever was, riddled by guilt of not saying no to drugs… what if this is a higher power talking to me, telling me it is my delusions, and the drugs and alcohol that perpetuated them, making me into something I am not… and now.. now I hear something higher… and I am just listening, actively, to the voice of something that loves me. What if it is just trying to save my life, by telling me to stay away from toxic things like drugs and alcohol, what if it is trying to change my fate through compelling my broken soul to change?
I have been casting my eyes to the stars at night, looking for a star that is different, anything that will say that something is speaking to me, that this is not all in my head. That is some sort trial that is supposed to bind my hand to something that is tied to something that is much higher than I could ever have been in my whole life of vagrancy.
I am compelled to meditate in my room, in any room I am in, on this strange call I hear sometimes. It comes to me when I am shaking, or crying in the dark black of night, and the only thing that seems to cure it is church or the powers of over drugs and alcohol that I gain through recovery meetings.
I have always heard this strange music, in my head, when thinking about all this, a chaotic piecing together of sounds, when I think about all this. It sounds like the universe talking to me through sound, but I think I am just insane. I don’t know…
I remember
A time when both of us loved each other, when the thought of you made me feel things, I thought I would never feel, nothing like anything I ever felt before. I remember for the first time in my life, not being so present, in my self-asserting madness, being there with you and not aware of me existing at all, as a seperate entity.
Toxic relationship they say, but is it really? I feel like I am toxic myself, like you made me less so…..
I don’t even know..
I just wish I hated myself less…
Maybe that is the consequence of all this… I hate myself…… so much………..
Fail. I started hallucinating when I was eight years old, back then I was hardly able to do it because I thought the voices were talking to me because I was writing, so I would get scared and stop doing it. It happened like that for years, this blog is my first attempt at doing it actually. I like the blog format because it makes it possible for to write in stream of consciousness, where I am basically word vomiting hallucinations onto a page. That gets the auditory hallucination thing under control which keeps me from visually hallucinating.
All this is why I wanted to be exactly what I am but minus what is wrong with me. I have spent my whole life self-medicating this and done nothing with my life, other than abuse drugs and alcohol, and at least I got that out out of my system.
I think five year old me would be okay with me, given everything that happened. Oh, and five year old me used to tell people her name was Damien by the way, so at least there’s that.
https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1838
How does death change your perspective?
My perspective is dead itself, or the idea that I have the ability to even have perspective is dead. It died for me when I was eight years old, when I realized I do not live in reality.
Block of Wood
You happened a long time ago, and every day, because you are a metaphor for mental decay.
I am staring at a block of wood, I do not know how I came to be staring at a block of wood, I do not have any knowledge of how long I have been standing here, I do not know what time I started staring at the block of wood, or where it is placed in the universe, or if I am even in the universe at all right now. I am simply staring at a block of wood in the dark, and can’t tell what time it is. It is that rare time of day or night when it is indistinguishable whether it is in fact day or night. I am not sure, I have no perspective anymore. I long ago gave that up because I am constant propelled into a reality that I am not sure of the reality of, so I relate to nothing, which means I have no perspective. This is beginning to change, but goes right back when this happens, and I have to fight my way out of the dark cavern that is the Hell of my mind.
I do not know why I was staring at the block of wood. I just know that I swear, I swear on everything in me, that I began to see the atoms if I focused enough, that made up the wood itself. I know I am insane, that this is all just hallucination, and indication that I am doing something right, because my mind does this to me whenever I make any sort of progress, sends me forwards, backwards, longways, short ways, and to a position of staring at a block of wood and wondering if I can communicate with my cat better orally or through telepathy.
I am not as alone as I think I am. I know I have been complaining a lot about my life. I am just trying to throw up all the negativity on here, so I don’t channel it into my everyday life, like I used to. I think in the past, I have brought people into my life who hated me, because I hated me, and for some reason I didn’t realize they were agreeing with me, because I was hating on myself. The people in my life now are much different, they call me on my bull****. So sometimes, it feels like I have no one, because I assume that worry and concern are anger, and fortunately, I am starting to realize this before I do what I always do, and push everyone away and run back outside to ruin my life again.
I have people around me, I just sometimes become so lost in my own head that I forget they are there. It is cool that the people I have in my life now, know that I am mentally unstable, and suprisingly are okay with it, and help me when I am having a hard time.
I made an appointment finally to see a psychiatrist, due to the advice of one of my close friends, who was so concerned for me, I became concerned for her, so I did it to make her feel better, and now I feel better.
I am starting to feel like I might have a shot at a normal life… and that it might not be as bad as I thought it would be, which is great because everything up until very recently has been terrible.
Damien
GET OUT. NSFW.
https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1837
I would rather cut out both my eyes, so I can’t see to organize than I would do what you say with my stuff, I’ll throw it out, now go away.
I rather do that than hear your voice, telling me where to put it, like it it’s your choice. I do not need your help. I do not care, what you say about where to put what away.
It’s a mess, and I don’t care, what you say, and will not put that there. I don’t want advice, just to be left alone, give me back my stupid old phone. It has stuff on it that like, and yes it works, and I know I have two, but I do not want to deal with you, so get out now, go away.
It’s a mess because I am too, and I don’t want to deal with you, and will not listen to what you say, so throw it out and go, scram, stray.
I still have tools, they are on loan, they have been given to me as long as I cast no more stones, I am allowed to have them… I think…. I hope.. I pray as long as I stay away from things that make me stay away from good.
I am should. I am could. I am do. I am no longer used for use but to be used by things higher than I could ever be.
I am give, I am live. I am going to do what I should to protect my soul.
I am no longer drink but think.
I am no longer drink but think.
I am no longer drink but think.
She was on a box of graham crackers, a new box, that came out I don’t know when, and I don’t want to know, ever.
Probably… never happened anyway, because it has already been established
I am
INSANE
A person with invalid
Opinion.
Lidded for the safety of all those who do not like to hear me.
I am sealed in toxic glass prison of constant self reflection, reflecting my poison, only at myself.
Caustic bitter alcoholic, encased in a bottle of alcohol, drowning like a elephant in the room, or a allusion to Dumbo,
Dumb ***.
Or just an addict thinking about things that will hurt me in the morning because **** me.
I used to play Mario, and have hissy fits at the screen when I would lose, I hated it, but everyone liked it, so I would play it and almost break the game system, and ruin it for everyone else. I was never a very happy child.
Everyone else would sit there laughing at making jokes, enjoying the thrill of the game, and I would be thinking about stealing wine from downstairs, because Mario made me so freaking nervous. I was always running of cliffs or jumping into the Goombas, hands shaking with anger or nervousness, and then running away to go find alcohol downstairs. I was 13.
My entire life as far as I can remember, has been very much like this game, a chaotic running into Goombas, or dealers, or cops, or people who want to kick my *** because I ripped them off, or my family mad because I spent all my money on things that no one should spend any of their money on.
I am happy today because I literally forgot, today is my 90th day sober and clean. I am so consumed with being happy about other things, I forgot I was not drinking or doing drugs.
I have never known happiness like this. It cost me nothing, and I can have it by not buying things I didn’t need, if I keep doing the right thing, which makes me feel good anyway.
HIGH SCORE
I turn on my computer, and open a word file, got mail from myself.
YOU SUCK, and I hope you die.
Schizophrenic email is awesome, so glad I opened it.
https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-25-2023/
I emptied both of my laundry baskets last night, metaphorical and physical, instead of throwing all my clothes out and saying I don’t need more than the clothes on my back.
I don’t have many clothes, or I didn’t because whenever I would get angry, I would throw my clothes out, or all over the road, or all over the woods, or leave them at someone’s house, or you get the idea. I leave things places, because I don’t need things… or so I thought.. apparently… that is addiction thinking……
I used to hate my family,
Because they did not understand me.
They told me try to get better, because they don’t ****ing understand me…
Or because they love you, jerk.
I did my laundry yesterday with my mother, and she helped me fold it because I am missing three of my finger tips, because I have done things that caused me to get infections in my hands…
I told her I was sorry, and now my laundry is put away and all of it is clean.
https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/13680591/posts/4621777173
They tell me,
“Anger or Defiance is not Polite Behavior.”
I think that is a load of ****.
If I kick this chair, over and over till it breaks, and then say I am sorry over and over, then I did not make a mistake. I am not good at give and take, because it is all your fault, because you take, take, take. So I am going to have to break, break, break
This chair, right now.
SMASH.
I am not a fan of chairs anyway, they are stupid. I don’t like something telling me how to sit. I will sit, however I want. I don’t need a stupid chair.
Look at you, stupid chair, lying in the floor? Who is sitting up now?? Neither of us. I am sorry, by the way, someone nice probably made you, and I ruined it.
****.
I had this teacher in 8th grade who had all of us do this writing anthology, all of us meaning even those of us with learning disabilities, I have hydrocephalus, so I am bad at math, and they pegged me into the classes that were for those with learning disabilities even though I am not bad at English or writing, which did focused on remedial skills, and I was bored, and sat there and did not pay attention, because I was not meant to be in that class. I was one of the kids with an IEP. Individual education plan, which said that I had learning disabilities, but due to a lack of understanding of the brain because they are teachers not doctors ,they thought I had learning disabilities in everything not just math and geography. I am visually/spatially challenged due to hydrocephalus. Seeing the reason for See Clearly?
This woman made everyone do the anthology and used my anthology as a reason to fight for me the next year to not be in remedial English in HS. She also said this to me.
“If you don’t deal with your anger, you are going to ruin your life, and you can use the writing to do that. You like it, and it is a positive outlet,”.
I wish I had listened, but she still remains the most influential teacher in my life, I would not have kept writing if it wasn’t for her. I just always thought my writing was awful. I just did it instead of crying…..
Around my eyes, not on my eyes, because it is the closest I can get to altering my face, without doing the whole plastic surgery thing. I hate my face.
Phil Gennuso Arts ancient volcanomolten temple of creationuntamed vast unbrokenfriend and foe for all time ********************************* This post is a page from my new Ebook, SCRAPBOOK DREAMS, available either from me directly or from my Etsy site: https://www.etsy.com/shop/PhilGennusoArts
Vesuvius (#Quatrain #ThursdayMyths #GraphicArts) — Phil G’s Blog/Website
I don’t really understand haiku which is why I never usually review them. I like them, but I am embarrassed by talking about things that I can’t really do myself. You are the first one that I connected with enough to look at this way, because I loved this piece. Thank you for it, and for bringing me out of myself enough to look at the haiku as an art form.
hai·ku
dictionary.com
noun
a Japanese poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, traditionally evoking images of the natural world.
a poem in English written in the form of a haiku.
With this in mind…
“ancient volcano”
Phil Gennuso
I like how you start the poem with this line, because for me I am attaching this line to the use of the haiku as a style itself, molten, terrifying, ancient technique, standing in front of me in your work which pays homage to a style of writing… I have been to arrogant to be employ.
I like this the use of the following line
“molten temple of creation”
Phil Gennuso
Because it is showing me why the haiku is usual for people who can use this meditative style to write. It suggests that writers using this style are doing something different. They use a “temple of creation” being haiku itself to meditative on universal human concepts like nature.
“untamed vast unbroken”
Phil Gennuso
I like how you follow it with this line, it made me feel more comfortable after having to deal with the concepts in the first, because like I said, being told what to do scares me, and I think it was comforting to show that you can be untamed, and unbroken while also exploring vast mysteries.
The following line
“friend and foe for all time”
“friend and foe for all time”
Phil Gennuso
I think this speaks about human arrogance, but not sure if that was your intention. I might be, like always being arrogant and placing myself into my reading of this.
Thank you for sharing this, I hope I didn’t decimate what your intention was when dissecting it.
We always had terriers when I was growing up and I have a soft spot for this breed. This west highland terrier was enjoying the park as much as we were.
A FINE DAY OUT — BELINDA GROVER PHOTOGRAPHY
You keep me going, reminding me of things I love more than substances I hate. I want to get a dog so bad. Thank you for helping me stay clean and sober.
Explanation: About drug and alcohol addiction- horse- metaphor used to indicate narrator is ex-heroin junkie, if this is offensive to you, read no further.
I am changing, in ways I didn’t think were possible, thinking myself already dead, doomed, a walking corpse, my whole life, chased and miserable, by a misery demon or resentment personified.
I have spent my whole life running from the voice of this reaper, thinking it to be my doom, my embarrassment, my tormentor, my silent passenger, riding on the back of my soul, like a man rides a horse, making me a horse, and resentment my master.
Today, for the first time in my entire adult life… I realized… I am beginning to derive satisfaction, from something that is pure and unselfish. This is insane to me, an insane person. I am no longer a horse to a demon that rides my back.
I am able to walk again, and for this I am eternally thankful to everything higher than I ever was or could be. I don’t even need a horse anymore.
What is one word that describes you?
DUDE. NO WAY. I KNOW I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT **** my other answer, I did not remember this when posting it.
THIS RULES. I AM NOT FAILING TODAY!
I am putting this in here so I remember where to find this.
Dude, no way. In 3 days, I will have 90 days, I never get past 61. NO ****ing way. I can’t believe that ****. I can’t believe that my reaction is a mental high five, and writing this on here, and not running for the door and ruining it. ****, I am going to make it to 90 days. I am actually able to do this. I can’t believe this. I actually want this, which means I am not full of ****, which means I am not as much of **** as I thought.
This means I actually deserve to pick up the scattered road kill, that is my soul, dust it off and put it back together.
I can’t believe this… I thought I would have failed by now.
I am so ****ing proud of myself right now, I have never made it this long, and I feel good about this, I am not such a bad person after all.
I borrowed time, I know this now, I experienced more of it than most people. I did not realize at the time that I was not borrowing it… well not exactly, I was being lent extra time by something that deals in a currency of spare change. I was being lent time in exchange for something, a deal made with something beyond my understanding, that knew me better than I knew myself, than I know myself now. This force knows everyone. It understands everything, and you can make deals with it, without knowing even. You can make deadly bargains that you don’t know the nature of that are not dealt to you with good or bad intention, simply intention itself, raw intention, raw will, there are forces in this universe, propelled in a direction of will, of will to be as they are supposed to, and if you fight those forces, you will experience, pain.
It is this pain which I fight to reverse now. I have realized recently that the assertion of deadly force of dominance is the opposite of what the universe desires. I have been made aware by the pulling in directions, that there is a force which punishes the assertion of will over the forces of a balanced system. This is all that I know right now.
See Clearly
I am running not from something, but through the earth. I have the ability to move quicker, in my mind anyway than I had before when I was getting high, I realize now how much it was making me slower, I was just slowing down the processes of my mind, which is stupid because this feels amazing. I do not have to worry about anything, because I am no longer doing anything wrong, I can just walk through life unperturbed by anything, seeing everything in clarity instead of the dull blur of drug and alcohol induced psychosis. I notice everything, and am able to act naturally without agonizing over anything anymore, now don’t get me wrong, I remember who I am and that this feeling will pass, but I know I will not forget this feeling. I will not be tempted to go back. I am done now, I have realized that I have something in me that is more valuable than any temporary high, I can choose to be whatever I want now.
I am free, released from the chains of addiction, no longer shackled to a life bound to a misery demon. I have had my mind cleansed, and I owe that to the earth, the sky, the stars, everything around me and above me, that was screaming at me to come back and do the sensible thing, be the human being I was meant to be, not the chaotic screaming infant dying in perpetual spinning spun hissy fit of life coming undone. I am so happy.
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?
Is that breaking the rules? I am adding feet because honestly, I walked from Oregon to California with my friend Chris. It was Southern Oregon and we walked to Northern Cali. I started my journey elsewhere and got all the way across the country and for anonymity so my ex doesn’t mess with me, I am just going to say somewhere north to west, buses- mostly grey hounds, hitching rides, walking, trains, and then a plane ride home and he/she is still in Misery. I am so glad to not be there, anymore.
I never thought I would make it back home. I walked to Cali with my friend Chris the Christian. He was very nice and peaceful and sang to me about God the whole way, and then I got annoyed because he started to say he was falling in love with me, and I walked 150 miles myself, alone on the highway while praying.
This is what proved to me that something was protecting me, because whatever it was, it guided back to my family and I literally walked alone at night on the highway and something got me back home. Thank you to my higher power. That is the only thing that makes sense, I should be dead but something saved me.
Rushing through everything, to serve you, the way you wanted it.
I devoted my whole life to you, now I am haunted, by the hole, you burned
In my soul, and mind, in bind, with time, maybe I can put you behind, like the piano we pushed down the street, in the middle of the night, and then the fight we had,
Because you know I am bad?
I wanted it to be fair, but you didn’t care, my **** your ****
Your **** Your ****
Too bad, so sad, push your own piano next time, hunny.
I am learning that I was stuck in a cycle, going down the drain, a cycle that I am not out of, but aware of now. I am still in the cycle, I just can catch myself when I realize I am about to disappear down the drain, the whole honesty thing is really powerful. I am crazy so I really believed I was doomed and would always be alone, stuck in my psycho delusions, ranting to myself about not being at fault, knowing that it was my weakness, and desire to assert instead of show strength that caused my drain circling. I am learning that like this metaphor, such is my life. I figured out through everything going on with me, that I am able to let poison out and let it go down the drain without having to go down the drain completely, myself. I am a human being and there are no drains that fit human beings down them, because that is not necessary.
I know this after the chaotic torture fest that has been the contents of this blog. I am so thankful I did this, I don’t think I would be alive right now if I had not written this down, and am thankful every day, for all of you, all of this, and a life that is very much worth starting over.
Yours,
Damien/Amanda