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.
Praying for soft landing in a land of nettles, that poke and injure feet that are not conditioned to anything but pettles.
Flying flowers surround a butterfly that flies through skies thick with rain, battered wings fight the downpouring and try not in vain, seeing flowers grown from pastures that may look greener but are riddled with weeds and thorns.
Eyes look around and feel forlorn, skies have looked better that is for sure. During the flight it is hard to see, how it is better to be me, than anything else at all, being a butterfly that is in fact, rather small.
How do you waste the most time every day?
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
I had an extremely hard time typing that right now, because my mind is in Hell.
Ant that is stuck on small branch, unsure of which direction to go, how fo you remain upright?
How do you fight to say just so?
Which way do you go?
In a land of anxiety, which way do I turn?
I picked it up, and things began to become strange, with every second they quickly changed. Stranger and stranger things got, reality blurry, and hands hot. In the minutes after I picked up the cat, I was forced to
Wonder
Where I even was, most likely because around me, I was surrounded by bright colors, radiant, and unlike anything before, then the cat made a noise, mewing and looking down at toys, it jumped from my hand, and I follow me around making a new and wondrous sound, filled with joy and resounding through the air, making it feel alright to be searching, unafraid of anything lurking around.
It brought me to a tree, and climbed up, and then promptly looked up, and above through my blurry vision, I saw a sight that was
Beautiful, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen, a quadruple rainbow, casting its color on everything around, chiming bells radiated through the air and all I could do was stare up.
I am indivisible, missing, not there, and not sure I
CARE
I am undivided, and brightly colored and small and not I am there at
ALL
I have never felt there, this I know, so for now I think I shall
GO
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.
Commitment, commitment, such a silly concept, I commit to nothing, nobody, no one.
My sweetheart, my baby, my dear, my love for you was not there at all, so I left you where you were, vision such a blur.
Sorry, baby, at the time my mind was sauced, tossed, and in the trash, too very busy, for love to catch.
Did not know how to do anything at all, clearly so busy staring at
TALL INNER DEMONS
Thelma, my love you are so sweet, so divine, such a sight for sore eyes that can’t see clearly. I have to say I love you, dearly.
You were a stranger, that dark night, that you asked to stand with me by fire light,.
I am a blind eye, in the trash, to very busy, to kiss ***
You are a dream, too bad you were so tragically mean, now if I remember anything about you at all, it is that your inner demons, make you small.
It makes me sad, brings tear to my
BLIND EYES
I had to leave you, run away, you were so toxic, could not stay, you wanted things I did not have,
I AM NOTHING.
CAN’T COMMIT, I am a complete peice of
****
What’s the oldest thing you own that you still use daily?
A deadly fire with flames that were very tall, burned down my building took it all, making me feel tiny, very small.
We ran down stairs and were able to save ourselves, everything else burned all things on shelves.
People were saved by our act, they ran fast no turning back, we ran with act of quickest quickness.
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.
Blue flowers, out of focus, blue flowers, bright and shinning with reflected light.
Out of focus, blurry sight lens, because I am alright, with not knowing the ending, because I do not have divine sight.
Flowers are subject of this photo, which is analogous for lack of forethought, foresight, foreshadowing, and anxiety, trying to refocus on something new, but knowing not what to do, so remaining bleary eyed and tongue tied on image of focus.
They called her Lilly, she was a maiden of the flowers, with whom she would spend all her hours and hours.
For days she would stare, while embuing with light, reflected from sun, which shined above, so bright.
She would stare at them for hours, using her eyes, she would empart on them kindness, warmness, and life.
With her touch they would grow, with her aide they would stay, with her kindness she kept touch of darkness away.
In the field of flowers, always she would be, she loved nothing truly, deeply beyond thee.
By thee, I mean them, she did not love me, in their shadow were all things, but in truth, I cannot be, anything to her, she hasn’t met me, and she need not, because surely, she would be,
Dissappointed, and that is not in her nature, she loves so fully, and completely and does not like me, a stranger.
I am constant, constantly anxious, suffering from anxiousness, anxiety ridden.
I do not know why or how to make my anxiety go down, other than maybe listen to the comforting sounds or sound of human voices, who are making choices that cause their anxiety to go down.
That is my only choice, and I say this not with resentment, but honest reflection, on a situation that was aided today, by human voices, that helped me make conscious different choices about what to focus on.
It is extremely hard, my mind loves to focus on pain, it is a constant surge in my brain…………
Misery loves my company.
If humans had taglines, what would yours be?
Misery has become joy, and attitude of misery, I used to employ, has now changed, which is strange, because I used to be strange, and now has become re-arranged, and changed.
I used to see only pain, and to talk only to disdain, but now my attitudes are changed, and are not strange but true, and I try to find joy in all I do, and talk to you, not be alone and talk to me.
I try to find joy and peace and to be free, from the sadness of relating only to me.
Perception, perception, perception
It is all about perception.
It is just my perception that dictates my reality.
That, while very clear to me, is very hard to remember.
Swimmingly, swimmingly, swimming, swim, swimmingly, my reality is going swimmingly
Mixed up sometimes by chemical imbalance, but most of the time nervously swimming back and forth and overall feeling good enough and better to swim still, swimmingly.
I am a swimmer in the pool of life, swimming laps around the earth, back in forth, not sure sometimes if it is worth it, but existing sometimes in mirth, swimming, swimmer, existing swimming, swimmingly.
Sun and flowers, sun and flowers, sun and flowers, above all are floating sun and flowers. I was in love with something that would above all tower, and am now addicted to sun, water and flowers.
Alcoholic, alcohol, alcoholic.
I was in love in something which made me vitriolic. Fighting with everything, in love with nothing, compelled to be sad, addicted to suffering.
Now I look up, no longer staring at the ground, no longer consumed by going down.
I am with my friend, who is also me, so I am alone, so sad too bad, don’t use a phone, anyway, so I don’t care, have no one to call.
That was really sad, buddy.
Yeah, well it is what it is… I am not that sad about it anyway. I would rather be by myself than with them anyway.
Who?
No comment, but all of them.
She broke her board on a long vacation, it was to her, a deadly situation, chased by a shark, she made her way, fought with big, crashing waves, they almost took her down, she listened to her heart, heard no sound, thought of only getting to sound ground, she would not let the water, take her down.
Once she got there, the board was broken, figured she would take it out of the ocean, now she paints it, or she did, so she could show, the local kids, she told her story, told the truth, the water was ruthless, she was removed from the shore, by her friend, who found her, though she would not let land bind her.
She went back in, only took a week, she would not let the land keep her down, now instead of frown she wears a smile, it only took a little while.
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.
See Clearly, see clearly,
I cannot, eye cannot.
I am an eye, I am an I, with blurry vision I am frought.
I have the site I have, eye have the sight I have.
My eyes cannot put the two together.
My I’s cannot put the two together.
I am only a letter to the eyes I have of something I cannot do.
I am a punk in a bad situation, I am a punk with eyes on vacation.
Ask me once, ask me twice, ask me fifteen times, ask me again, make me defend, make me remember, over and over and over and over.
I am a rose which rises to every occasion presented.
I am red roses, on the grave of a dead horse, or of course, I am of course, more than a dead horse, I am the strife in a life of
Over and over again
Make me defend choices I made then and not again.
Color me red, color green, color me the color of horses beaten.
I am a bright flower, sparkling with daylight, glowing with such a shine, it is impossible to put out my light. I glow in such a way, it is impossible to put me out, no matter how much, in my memory you scream or shout, no matter how bad, anything I recall.
You are just a memory, no longer towering above all. I do not have to hear you, because you are not here. I got away, no longer haunted, still haunted, but not taunted by fear.
Sunset skies paint the shores, with bright pink light, reflecting nothing but the beach at twilight. Re-coloring the ocean with dreams of pure light, with different adventures, of times not had yet, with the ideas of day dreams and people not met, of candy and dinners of plans not yet made, of dreams so high up, in heaven they are made.
Clouds up above you, like the pink reflected in the water, of things not yet done, un-spun, circling around, and around and around, of time re-wound, in a positive spin, which you have yet to begin.
Pathway through stardust, through constellations reflected in blue light on the beach, tracing my steps through strange memories, of jelly fish kisses, traced in steps back, through a beach made of madness, of constant panic attack.
On the sands we did travel, but in the stars I see it now, on the beach in my memory, in the clouds you are now, the dark clouds of resentment, I have placed your name, where it need be, less I forget my own name, placed with shame, blame, and guilt, and heroin addiction.
Your name is up there, so I can stay on the ground, and not be pulled back to a place I am not now. We did have good times, but I want to forget, so I do not become stuck in a place of self neglect.
What fears have you overcome and how?
The spot is marked, the spot I left with a big non-hexing EX, just a mark, a memory, now not so very clear to me, filled with rage, and filled with fear, although he wishes just for tears.
I have gone, I have left the state, because my fear of you was way to great, so now I am, so far away, and that is where I plan to stay.
We were once best friends, so long ago, we camped in rain, we camped in snow, you used to be the best person I know, now I am afraid, I can’t say so.
You grew to be the meanest one, who wished for nothing, except that I can’t have fun, punishment is what you wanted, for what I do not know, I am sorry to say, after this year I am just glad to be
A WAY away, a ways a way away
The dog of the yellow wall, used to not be there, not at all. He was not always there, but unfortunately, I have a wall flower, who does not like to be alone, and instead of continuing to be alone, and waiting by an un-ringing phone, I would make a friend, and I know he may just be pretend, but I am not really all there either, unless you cannot really tell that
I am talking to myself, or to another version of me on the internet, so what is the difference if I have a dog that is not real either???
My name is Steve, and I am quite peevish, I eat dog food, think it is delish. I am good at giving a wet kiss, to my owner’s eye, about the only time they don’t feel like they….
Liar, liar, pants on fire, you are not really that sad.
I know I am simply, talking to a fake dog, and myself online, that’s not sad at all…
Actually, this came out hilarious, so no, I am fine, nothing to see here.
I am really nervous a lot now, and I think it is from not being able to use alcohol or drugs. I am hoping it goes away, most of the time I feel like I am going to jump out of my own skin.
Me too.
Thank you for admitting that and not just blaming the whole thing on me, like usual.
Thank you for telling me I do that, didn’t realize until recently that was how you felt.
Yeah, you talk to me sometimes how you talk to him, and that is not a good way to talk to yourself.
Good point, that probably was what he wanted I think.
I think so too. I worry sometimes about feeling like this forever. I don’t like it, I want to get better at dealing with life on life’s terms.
You are doing okay, give yourself a break.
How are you?
Annoyed, by things beyond my control.
I know me too, I don’t like fighting either.
It doesn’t even have to have anything to do with me, and I want to leave the room.
I know me too. It can be about anything, anything at all and it makes me want to leave the room.
I feel the same way.
Have you lost track of who is talking yet?
Yeah, but now I remember, because you are always the one who deals with things for me.
Thanks for noticing.
That is not nice at all, Amanda. I have to deal with everything and you just yell at me.
Well are you?
Probably not, I pretty much embarrass myself all day long. It is very easy to embarrass myself, so yeah I think it will probably happen all day today too.
Well, that kind of sucks…
Does it? Isn’t it the same thing that happens every day?
Yes.
Then why does it suck?
I guess it doesn’t…
Thank you, you are not doing that bad at being a human being either.
Thank you?
I was mostly saying that to myself.
You are me.
Right.
That makes no sense.
I know.
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.
I am looking back without you there, because you never should have been to begin with. Now that you are not with me, I see we never should have been at all, so to go forward, I need to look forward, by looking forward backward forward.
You are no longer with me, because I should never been with you, and although I liked you then, this was always true, always will be too.
You were a sunset, as beautiful as one, sometimes, but you were a sunset all the same, an ending, not a begining, but an ending, of a time, when I didn’t know myself, and didn’t want to.
Self-burn, ouch, got yourself.
It is you I am talking to. I said half.
There is no such thing, we are the same human, we just talk to each other, with the same hands.
Ouch.
I am fine, why?
You haven’t talked to me all day, that’s why.
I know, I was insulted by the universe earlier.
The universe insulted you? That sounds pretty narcissistic.
The universe thought so too.
You are extremely obnoxious.
I love you, too.
Like I said, annoying.
How was your day?
You mean our day, don’t know, you were there too, right?
Ouch, I am in pain too you know, you just are the one complaining.
Facts.
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.
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.
Damien,
I am reading something that made me think of you, and how you talk to yourself, and how we talk to each other, even though it is mostly joking, you are always being mean to yourself, and saying things before other people get a chance to say them. The things you say about yourself even if they are sarcastic are usually mean, please stop doing it.
Amanda
Amanda,
It is force of habit, and the voice of the other person that lives in our head.
Damien
Damien,
I know it’s force of habit, but please try to stop doing it. I am going to try to stop doing it to. I like you, and you like me, leave it at that for now.
Amanda
Amanda,
I think we should try writing positive things to each other, maybe I can do it that way. It is hard for me to say anything positive about me.
Damien
I guess so, I am thinking about stuff, and just kind of going with what comes to me, and it is mostly resentment. I think it is because there are no weekend meetings.
I think so too. I think you should try to think about something else though.
I am not really chosing to think about these things, they are PTSD flashbacks that come to me, while making graphics.
So make nicer graphics?
Ditto.
I am a leaf in a box.
I am a leaf in a box.
I am a leaf in a box.
My nerves die places that I want them to not, and the rest of my body is on fire, and I am not allowed to have peace, and I don’t know why?
And mysteriously, I am alone, now, and the annoying female screaming voice, that shares my body with me is gone, because she in fact is everything I belief her to be.
What a whiney bitch like you? Is that what you want to say, master of nuerosis? Is that what you need to hear right now??
I need to hear nothing.
Then why are you talking to yourself on a black screen.
I was trying to talk to someone else, who hates you.
Oh, sick burn.
Thank you, Damien.
You’re welcome, Amanda
I have my own inner child, and married couple living in my head.
I identify as Damien, and the voice of resentment is Lydia, and my inner child is Amanda. I used to refer to my inner child as Lyra though.
That is really ****ed up.
I know right? There you go. See it Clearly?
As a Rei of Light.
How do you like it when I do it, mother****er??? Do you want some sweet candy?
You make me sick.
Do you want some sweet candy?
Living with you is sick.
Do you want some sweet candy?
You make me cry.
Do you want some sweet candy?
You are a poke in the eye.
I am done with you, hate everything you do, if one thing is true, it is that life with you is Hell, and I will tell you this the only way you understand, if it is the last thing I do, I will get far, far away from you.
You can’t. I live in the same house.
It is a human body, you *****.
I know, which is even better, you are stuck with me, forever.
I am faceless, I am formless, I am forlorn, I am reality scorned, by hating my face, my human forn, I am tearing, wearing, blarring, self-hatred, eating at my own skin, I am resent, everything I am, the skin I am in.
I am screaming chaotic soul tearing of the form I am wearing, and forced to be in. I am loving something higher, but hating me, I am resentment meant specifically at me, I am why won’t she let me be.
You are pathetic, you are weak, you all that….
SHUT THE **** UP. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be the one who feels like you are divorced from your own human form???! Do you really? Do you think I am the lucky one? Do you really? I don’t think you do, because if I was you, I would sound just as pathetic as you do.
Ouch.
Yeah, I know I win.
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.
She took my best friend, and made her, her’s.
Revision, revision, I am working on my vision, blurry, blurry vision….
You really need to stop refering to women in the ways that you do, because it offensive, Damien.
I used to be one.
It is still sexism.
Is it really?
Yes, it is actually also machismo.
Okay, fine.
I wish I could break up with myself, like I did with all the bottles and sewing needles on my shelf.
I am instead stuck with me, oh to be you, so wonderous and free.
Sofia, Sofia, for you I fall apart, with every fallen petal, you pain my heart. My sunflower goddess, my beauty, my dear, your smile, your sunlight, makes my pain severe, I miss you so badly, I loved your dear heart, but
I left you in New Mexico, fearing a start, at anything with you, so I left on day one, leaving not a trace of me, nothing but shun, I am sure you don’t care by now, because it has been many years, but thinking of how I felt with you, can bring me to tears, this is all pure selfishness, because you are better off, with someone, not me…
To be, to be, so wonderous and free, away, away, so sadly, I can’t break up with me..
My hands hurt. I am tired, and I really want to get high. So basically, I just really want to get high or drunk, but I don’t because I am an ***hole when I get drunk or high.
Too bad, so sad…
You are being a **** too, at least I admit I am doing it.
You did not admit you are doing it, I told you that you were.
I am you, writing on the internet a conversation you are having in our head.
At least we aren’t doing this on a street corner out loud while high.
Yeah, there’s that…
It was a ****ing pun.
Oh, yeah right.
You don’t know what a pun is?
Of course I do.
Yeah, because you are talking to yourself on a screen, moron.
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.
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…
Oh, that is healthy, is that how you are supposed to talk to yourself?
Yes, because it is the only way you answer.
That… is very accurate.
I know, that is why I said it.
Nice, thanks.
For what?
For nothing.
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.
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….
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.
Pretty sure you are actually awful, with your eyes, oh so thoughtful, staring at viewer with look of hatred.
Hey, ***hole, what if she is supposed to look sad, and you are just seeing it that way because
Because I don’t see clearly?
Exactly.
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…
What is behind the soul resigned to perpetual de
CLINGING
CLING
ING
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.
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.
You told me this, and encouraged me to do the same, hating my words, and my inner disdain, my distaste for you and for myself, loving nothing but bottle on shelf.
You talked of love and of forgetting the past, of making things different, trying to make me laugh, of making things better and making things last, of wondering why I would always want alone, at last.
You followed me everywhere, my continuous tale, wanted me nowhere, chased to no avail.
I am not your dog, now I am out of your grasp, no more short leash, and now we both remember how to laugh.
I hope you like your new girl, and that you leave me be, I don’t want to be friends, leave me to be free.
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.
Negativity, negativity, you so very dear to me, so very near and clear to me, so inviting, because I like to bite myself.
This is about crows not dogs.
It is about condescending ***holes too.
Ouch.
Not you.
Okay.
It stopped doing it, and I don’t know what that other happy sounding bird is… it is less intelligent I think…
That was ****ing mean.
I was not talking to you.
I was talking about you being mean to the bird.
You are the speaker of the birds?
The birds speak for themselves.
Not anymore, they are quiet right now.
That is because you are an ***hole.
No, it is because morning is coming to a close slowly.
True.
Eat me.
I made the birds pretty, and now they are singing again outside because like I said it is the end of morning.
Hahahahhahhaha
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 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.
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….
I am fine with it, my recent discovery that I am completely insane. I am not going to fight it anymore. I have become resigned to it, I guess… I am just going to go with the flow of a river that has long since overtaken me, maybe I can get somewhere with it, intead of fighting against it , and being caught in a continuous treading of water, I dreaded being in to begin with.
I think the thing that has always been at my neck, threatening to strangle the very life out of me, is why am I here to begin with? If my reality is what it is…why didn’t I die long before this happened… what is the point to any of this, and is there any point to me at all, other than the continuous annoyance that my existence is to those who see clearer than I do.
Where the **** do people like me fit into anything??? Or do we at all???
Why would anything allow my continued existence, if it is based on invalid view point, if any one has an answer.. please share, I have no idea what I am even doing at this point.
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…
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/128784227/posts/81586
How many hours a day would you estimate you spent on your blog, including writing, reading, and commenting? If you didn’t blog, what would you do with the time you currently spend on your blog?
You are asking me how I item-ize my time. How long do I spend on here? Why? There is no distinction between the things that I do during the day. I do not have the ability to space things individually. In other words, I do not know and this question makes me uncomfortable.
If I didn’t blog, I would be doing the same thing I do on here, out loud outside. I talk to myself on here, because I have something wrong with me, and I don’t have an inner monologue. The things I think come out of my mouth, unless I am writing, then I get some sort of semblance of peace for a second, because the things I think about, which are often unorganized fear driven nightmares, are projected onto this screen instead.
I write on here, so that I don’t walk around my house talking to myself anymore. If I didn’t write on here, I would walk around somewhere talking to myself, all day, every day, on repeat for the rest of my **** life.
It does not get better if I quit doing anything. This is my life un-medicated forever.
Which is why I need to get back on medication, which I am going to do. Soon.
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.
Rory’s questions for today are:
1. Is the WHY to everything important?
It is, but it seems like it is not something any living thing can know. Things are all part of a larger picture of interconnected parts that are playing out according to the chess game that is life. They are all actors in a larger process, that goes exactly as it should because they act according to what they are, so it is not for us as individual pieces in a larger, much more complicated inter-connected process to know. If we did, we would ruin it, by acting in bad faith or trying to do what we think we should, instead of merely playing our part in a more complicated far more beautiful picture.
This is not to say there is no free will, it is just that things only behave as they do, and connect with other things that do the same.
2. What would you list as your Top Five Fun Things? nature, writing, exploring, learning, and talking to others
3. Should we care about the dreams of others or only our own?
The dreams of others are far more interesting than our own, and clarify our own, by making clear things we did not know about ourselves. The human being a lot of the time, exists in a process, where they drive their own pain through lack of ability to know what they want, due to their lack of knowledge of self, and misunderstanding of the world based on conditioning.
4. How well do you deal with criticism from others? Horribly.
5. Do you say YES or NO more often, and which is it? I have no idea.
6. What is nose hair for? Getting burned out of my nose, by bad decisions.
7. What is the funniest comment you have ever received? I don’t know, I don’t care what other people think of me anymore.
8. Novels or Netflix? Novels, I find any TV PTSD inducing.
9. Do good things come to those who wait? I don’t know, but bad things come to those who don’t.
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.