Waves of Collected Sunlight

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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.

Sam

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 find it so fascinating, and positively delightful, to rip out your color and tell my story, it is such a relief for you to be so unreal, you and all that you are, that makes it so hard to feel. I am so happy, so at peace with you, just an image of attack, and all that you are one, who likes to take back, and to shove forward, and put on me everything, as long as it is negative.

I am the bad guy in every story you told, I am the villian in all tales young and old, color me that way, make me large, and you small, color me clearly, till I am not there at all.

Do you like technicolor?

Lovely Technicolor Angels from Hell

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

It is always on my……..

Have from flowers, from Hell.

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

You are on my

BRAIN BRAIN BRAIN

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

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

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

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

FORGET

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was at the end of my rope, so sad that I would choke on air, staring at the ground, fixating on the act of down.

Who are you?

How do you find peace?

What brings to the land of beneath?

He had no name, he had no place, he was like me, his life a race, a quest for food, for place to be, he now lives in a house with me.

Diane took him in, and now he lives, on a bed with Diane and her kids.

You glow, sweetheart… so much brighter than the sun.

The sun is falling, and night will come, and in the encrouching darkness, we are left, in the theft of day, and light’s cleft, you sit on a tree, looking at me.

I am wondering what there is even left to see. I am the act of dying of the idea of bee, I am the seed of hating the idea of me.

How do you feel about cold weather?

Give me to those who mourn the dead, I am blood red.

I reach for the sky, and die in too much sun, I am a gift.

I am flowers of joy, dying for you, we live in the summer and die when the cold consumes, it eats my silk skin, and makes it dies, we do not breath, and reach for the sky, we do not have eyes, and we cannot cry.

We ask May for rain from the sky, we do not drown in water that falls in lack of eyes, we are red like blood and we are alive, we do not have hands, but can touch the sun’s eye.

You can pull us out of the ground to give lies to your sister while she cries.

I was walking through the woods, not sure how I got there, or why, just remember waking up walking, I am alone in this memory, and walking careful not to alert animals to my presence, and I am scared, not sure of what, but I know it is not human…

You come up to me, I do not know who you are, or what you are, I mean to say….

I just know that, the instant I see you

I know I am safe.

You tell me you feel it too, a pulling in the air, as if we…

Are in the ocean, and there is an undertow.

You talk to me, and I feel like you are keeping us above water.

I am in the woods, so it doesn’t make much sense, because it is the woods, not the ocean, but I feel the sense that we are always on the verge of sinking, as if we are treading water. She keeps her head close to mine, and every so often, I can feel her breath. She whispers in Spanish in my ear, I am not fluent, so I don’t know what she is saying, but I feel safer with every word she says, knowing only that as I continue, i am getting safer.

I wake up sweat drenched and alone, but not anywhere I started. I am in the woods, alone, there is no one around. I look for the woman, and no one is to be seen. To this day, I am convinced I met a ghost in those woods that saved me from drowning in a swamp. My name means from swamp, I wonder to this day, if this was some sort of vision of a relative.

https://amanpan.blog/2023/05/16/moonwashed-weekly-prompt-143-5-16-23-picturesque/

Her face a garden of perfection, she was picturesque, with anything negative beyond my detection, she was beauty incarnate, completely divine, she was picturesque to me, but who do I know, I am half blind.

Everything about her, appeared divine, she was beauty, she was divinity, for her I would lose my mind.

Your mind is already gone, long ago, you fool, said my inner child, for this beautiful woman, my soul went slightly wild.

Slightly? Questioned the child within me, fully completely, was my sanity.

She was a painting, a mosaic, she was divine, but what do I know, I am insane, my mind is not kind.

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

LOVE would be more appropriate.

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

BURN ME

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

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

Why? And what do you mean?

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

Um… dude…

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

The Laughing Woman, and the Krystal Ship

Shadow Superheroes

Are you a leader or a follower?

I once lead the line in kindergarten, and then never was allowed to again. I lead us outside, instead of to music class, because I forgot about time, and hated music class. I thought I could lead us wherever I wanted to go and it would be time for that class, also I forgot what class we were supposed to be in.

The line split into two factions the rebels who followed me, and maintained my recess delusion, and those who followed the rules and went to music class.

That is an excellent illustration of my lack of ability to follow rules, which I guess in some way would answer this question.

His name was Ray, he was a cat, he slept where ever the sun reached, whether it be beach or boat, he was also prone to swim in water, because he was good at the act of float.

His life was peaceful, the sun was kind, there was hardly ever a day of bind. His peaceful life was full of wonder. He swam all day, but did not go under.

The water always cleansed and soothed, and his fur was always smooth, his pur was perfect, his heart was kind, he never had a worried mind.

One day he went on a great journey, he met a rat named William Murray, the rat was graceful and was kind, so they went on a journey, on a ship sent on human bind, it was a rescue, of a man….

TBC

I colored you like your two loves.

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

Still life

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

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

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

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

She was a statue, though she did move around, she was my girlfriend, a woman with no sound, she was a statue, she was very stiff, she was my girlfriend, and had such quick wit.

She hated all people, and would not talk to anyone, and people she hated, saying she hated everyone, she talked only to me, and it was quite a burden, she was very sad, and unwell, called me Tyler Durden, I told her my name, but she thought we lived in a film,

Didn’t know the difference between Fight Club and me and her life, she was very crazy, came at me with a knife, she told me she must kill me, told me I was bad, so I went away, and now she is mad. She still calls me sometimes, and we talk on the phone, but I think due to her state, it is best she is alone.

Color me with re-touch, paint it on thick.

I am so happy, I am elated, I am hapiness, I am instated.

You amuse me, baby. You make it all clear, in the continuous light, there is the death of fear.

In the darkness, there is the smallness of men, in the light men can pretend.

I am the act of courage defended.

I am happening, I am walking, I am talking, I am man experiencing joy.

I am selfishness, I am madness, I am a toy.

Darkness, darkness, I am mad, darkness, darkness makes me sad.

Cry for me baby, make me go crazy.

I am the toy of madness.

Madness. Madness. Mad nest

Nesting, nesting, nesting

Doll

All the birds

Big and small

The arrogance of man destroys nature to make a land of joyous elation.

The birds are displace, squirrel’s home are erased, and perpetual light is found.

I am children screaming loud.

Click. whir, clack, bang, boom, vroom.

I am a magic act.

Entertain me, please.

I am so entertaining.

I am arrogance.

Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.

I forgot my lines.

I am made of stone, I drink fishes, I am made of stone, I blow kisses.

Nothing can touch me, not easy to break, I am a woman, I aim with grace.

Speak to me clearly, tell me a story, tell me of darkness, make it real gorey, tell of things that you have no seen, make it about darkness, make it a bad dream, make it fictitious, make it pure fiction, speak it clearly, with very clear diction.

Dance with me baby, you make me so crazy.

Does it speak to you, what does it say?

Does it speak truth or talk of going the wrong way?

Does it flow through you, or is it on top? Is it forcing your tempature to drop?

Is it cold and biting?

Is it warm and inviting?

Is it surging with force?

In the flow of the river, lays death….

Let me flow over, let me through, let me change your tempature, pour over all you do, let me be on you, give me your body, let me change your tempature, lend me your body.

I am inviting, I am over you.

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

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

They invite me to sit down.

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

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

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

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

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The convenience of the universe astounds me.

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

CRASH

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

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

---

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

Huh?

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

That sounds excellent…

TBC

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

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

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

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

You are everything I do not have, because I have lived of a life of too bad, so sad, goodbye’s, of too high to live, but too sad to try to die. You are everything I never had, becuase I was too mad to put a bottle down, too angry to throw out mixed poison, and now I am stuck in looking back, because for the moment, it is Sunday and I have nothing to do, but think of you.

I am a gasoline fire, made of pained backward reflection, smoke billowing everywhere, anywhere and nowhere, burning embers, burning leaves saved from September, the last time I remember feeling anything other than small and addicted to pain.

She looks like our friend, baby.

Yeah she does, are you done ****ing now?

Yeah, I guess so, at least I have you.

I was walking past them, and she stoppped me.

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

I loved her so very much, I decided to treat her poorly.

So in love with black and white, you are, you are my shooting star, you are everything to me, I love you so clearly, so dearly, you are everything that I ever wanted, and needed, please stay always my

HEROIN

I loved her so very much, I decided.

To treat her poorly, was not my intention, and of it I make mention to mention why, I treated her

My treat is to retreat.

I am a coward.

She was mean to me.

I am coward, and did not want to see.

You are an addict.

You are a liar.

I hold a lamp shinning on your soul, alight with HELL FIRE.

Isn’t life lovely, isn’t life grand, how wonderful it is, lacking the courage to stand, in the darkness I am, in the dark lack of day, I am always forever, and fated to stay.

I am above you, but so very below, I am the person with whom you should not go. You don’t believe me, you think I am a liar, you think that was my brother, who you wished to set on fire.

Isn’t it nice?

Isn’t it great?

Such a pleasant re-do, now we can relate. I am not the person I was, now I am new, I am girl re-colored for you.

There is no difference, between me and him, no rhyme or reason for your lie wearing thin.

You slowly realize I was telling the truth.

Isn’t it tragic, now I am removed.

You removed yourself, sweetie.

I know I did.

Burning Canoe

Sometimes, I wake up and I am not me, but someone else, somewhere else, and if nothing else, I am aware, that this means very bad things are happening to me, somewhere else, where I am actually myself. This time, I wake up in a painting. I am not sure why, but I am aware that I am in the painting, which kind of feels like lucid dreaming for normal people, I guess.

It feels like actually being in a canoe, like I am imagining is in the painting which I am hallucinating, or for regular people, lucid dreaming. The only difference is very strange. I am extremely warm. It feels like sunburn.

I am so warm in fact, that I want to jump out of the canoe, which I do, immediately, and feel the water in the painting hit my skin, but also feel the burning sensation go away, as I imagine other water hits my real skin. I am comforted by this fact, that somewhere ele, where I actually am, I am not burning alive, and then I hear it, a commotion, coming from somewhere else, it is a sound I recognize, fire alarm, blarring, somewhere else.

My apartment is on fire.

I am brought back to present time, someone is spraying those of us walking out with a firehose. I am holding a painting of people in a canoe. The strange thing is, it is not the painting from my apartment, there is someone in the waterr next to the canoe, they were not there before.

I am running through the desert, not sure how long I have been running, because it feels like I just woke up upright, which I am used to because it happens when I am upset.

I am unsure of where my dog is, this is in the past, so I actually have this dog, and it is not a figment of my imagination. I had a pitbull when I was dating this other girl, before Rei.

My chest is pounding, as if I have been running for hours, I am unsure of how long I have been runnning.

I don’t know where you are, but you can’t be very far, and I don’t know where I am, but I feel like I am very far from sane, you are the only thing in my brain.

I hear my dog in the distance, I am sure of it. I run, my chest pounding.

The sky is different now, the blue becoming a pretty pink, and I wonder if it is an indication of a storm, or an indication that I am in fact dreaming.

This doesn’t feel right

I hear you, my dog, not my ex, in the distance, you are barking in a way that I understand, it sounds like you are speaking to me… from far away… I can hear you saying that it is not present time… I am in the past…. this is not possible so… I choke on my breath. I am not sure what is going on… I wake up and I feel around for Rei… thinking myself next to her…. then I remember… I am alone.. this is farther into the future… I am alone… just a dream… just a dream… I miss my dog.

She looked like a vampire, or what you would think a vampire looked like anyway, which was probably the point. I met her in New Orleans.

I imagined the whole time, every instant I was with you, what it would be like

To hold you, to touch every inch of you, to be next to you, but I was afraid to touch you, to hold your hand, to be touched by hands.

I built you up in my head, your painted skin and made-up face.

You laughed at me, and I could smell your mint-scented breath in the air, dancing towards my face.

I assure you, I am delicious.

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

INSANE

I am probably insane… I am actually insane.

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

He tells me that he can change his shape, and I think of my friend, who I think I have thought about on this blog before. My friend who believes that something happens and he blanks out and becomes someone else. This reminds me of that. He tells me that he does it through mental focus and meditation on something else, not the person or animal which he is becoming. He also tells me he has no power over what he becomes.

This is slightly terrifying, and suggests that there is another party to this process, or that my new friend, has somehow tapped into the consciousness accessable to beings who meditate, which is strange, because he speaks of this as a sort of body snatching, which is precipitated by a moment of panic, the lack of calm. I don’t know what to think about it, when he is telling me this. To be continued.

I am talking with my friend, just a casual friend, not someone I know well at all really. I don’t even know the guys name, to be quite honest. I consider him my friend because we were friendly with eachother, meaning we would occassionally talk.

He is telling me about this strange phenonmenon that happens to him, he feels like for periods of time, he blacks out and people use his body without his consent, as a silent passenger to his consciousness. He has seen the beings that do it, and describes them to look something like aliens…

I am unsure to this day, if there is any credence to his tale.

But, backing away, I am caught looking back at you.

I am taken back and drop my things and instantly start to start re-gathering them, while falling apart.

I am fine, I tell you, but you know I am not, you stand looking at me, while my face turns red hot.

What is your problem?

I don’t really know, and if I did, I can’t let it show, that I know the answer because I don’t want to tell you.

How peculiar

I met her near a bridge, she was going to work, she spotted me underneath the bridge, picking up the rest of my stuff, so no one would know I had camped there for the night. If I was careful, sometimes I could use the same spot twice. This was particularly important in Oregon, because it was not as understanding as California, and shop owner’s or random passersby could help police decide to banish the unhoused travelers.

Do you still think what you thought about her?

Yes. I still find it very strange that her name was Bridgette and we met her underneath a bridge.

Look, I know that is peculiar, but what you thought was insane.

I don’t think it is that insane that people were following us and giving quickly devised names, it is a perfectly logical explanation that you see in old movies all the time.

I guess that makes sense.

Paintings of Madness

Pole or I’d

What you thought

What you did

What you thought

What I did

He is a liar

I am away

Forever and ever forgotten forgetter

I hate you Just in time

I am no longer addicted to dimes

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

Mother****er.

You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I win. I won. I win.

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

Painted with sadness

I am thinking about you and about breakfast in the morning and how I was always too high to eat it, and you made it for me.

And that kills me, because however much you and I hated each other at the very end, there was a time when you really loved me, or her, who you thought I truly was, thinking this part of me was addiction personified or something.

I really loved you once, in the way someone would love their best friend, because at one point you were my best friend too, and her boyfriend, and then you didn’t need a running buddy anymore, and wanted to be alone with her, and that is just not how it works, we are one person with two personalities.

Whining is so unattractive it can’t be read, it is invisible instead.

Isn’t it lovely, isn’t it great?

So sorry baby, I can’t relate, I am addicted to madness, to pain and slow death, that is what I have been given.

I call it time theft.

This is my life which I was given, from the time I was born, ticking time clock was ticking. I am to be thankful, I am to be glad, I am to serve everyone, because there lives are sad, I am to shut up, I am to be down.

I am to always smile, only laugh, never frown.

I am to speak kindly.

I am sorry that I cannot do, I hate everything around, sorry, baby even you.

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Miss labeled

I want different cards, or I want to quit playing. I tried all my life in every way, to quit playing, every attempt came with failure, and people glad I was alive, while I sat like always wanting to off my life.

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Label me chaos,

I am a game of chicken played in red and blue, not green, but blue.

I don’t know what to do, except scream, because I don’t want any of this, never did, never will, and no matter how much I try, I am not allowed to quit playing.

Label me doubt, label me contention, because I love to scream and shout. I love the human word, because I in perpetual fight to be not heard, because you know what I really don’t care.

Fried Chicken

Label death, they already did, at eight, already dead, ticking, ticking, so thankful, so grateful, so sad, too bad, already gone, gone, gone.

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Bright

I lived my whole entire life, on rock bottom from eight to now, on gravel, and sometimes jagged rock, crawling up. I was born with something, for those who do not know that gave me a life expectancy of 21.

21, 21, 21

Wish sometimes, that I had lost not won.

My life is all silver linings, and people say I should be thankful, greatful, for what, more time than 21 years?

Because I am somehow supposed to be thankful to have less time than most people???

Gravel. I am so fond of you. I know everything about every curvature, every outline, of the pleasant rocks at the bottom of the path that is my life, which I went off, because I am sorry…

I don’t like cutting my feet on rocks very much.

Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.

She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.

I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.

She forgives me.

She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.

I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.

Silly girl, silly girl, you are my world, you are my world, you turn me up and down, round and round, and into the water.

She tells me, she thinking this area, looks like drinking elephants, I wasn’t thinking about drinking at that moment, but instantly began thinking about drinking when she mentions the elephants, we both start laughing, we are sitting on the ledge, hanging upside down, and looking at this, hanging over the edge, my head hurts from blood rushing to it, my head hurts easier than most peoples.

I laugh and lean forward to kiss her, she pushes me, I am good at falling backwards, for about 30 minutes she thinks I am dead, and for about 30 minutes I am searching for people with booze or drugs under the bridge. She screams down for me, and I come back, some guy gave me something, and I make some stupid joke about drinking like the elephants.

She forgives me.

She looks really good in my shoes, she lost hers looking for me.

I am forever reminded of you Ruby, whenever I think about elephants, which is right now, and yesterday when I saw some earings that looked like the one you lost that day.

She is not like you, so she is going down, I love you sweetheart and your friend would rather lay down.

She stole your money, and I’ll give it back, little do you know, this is all an act. We tricked you, baby, but you don’t know. I wanted your attention and your friend did know. Now you are sitting thinking she left you here, she is buying something of which you won’t here. I covered for her, because without her, I would never have met you, and after today won’t see you again, and this I bet you, so right now, I will tell you anything you want to hear, and yes have anything you want, I have it here.

I don’t know when she will be back, she did not tell me, and yes she will be back of this I assure, I implore you please relax, your insanity and anxiety is such a tax, I love your voice honey, and love your face, I have something that I am sure will make your pain slow pace.

Okay, she is back no go away, and if you are ever in need you know where I stay.

I am watching you

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, so sad your life went south

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

I was very glad you decided to leave,

appreciated the pipe you had up your sleeve,

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

I am so tired of the tragic tweekers

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

I had a plan, it was a disaster and it failed, unfortunately building my whole life around maintaining and continuing drug and alcohol use was a bad plan… How I didn’t see this before is beyond me..

Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

The voice of HELL screams loud out at night, existing in a universe of lack of light, delighting in perpetual fight, and contorting those who try with all their might, but can’t seem to gain clarity of sight because they exist in perpetual spite drawn to thoughts of deep contortion they are conflicted and resort to dwelling in the comfort of complete madness, because of course it is better than blank lackless lusterr for boring life or anger thriving on perpetual strive that is inflicted with their own hands but they can’t see they don’t know where they stand, so now that sit here and right this because they have no one nothing

Hey. Stop that.

I thought it was pretty cool.

I think it is self-deprecating verbal vomit.

I like throwing up on the screen.

Better than what you used to do.

Hey, that was mean, yeah I guess it is but now I look like hell.

I like the way you look.

Thank you, you too.

Miserable Sandwich

Dueling Whiches, God and the Devil

Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

I used to work at a sandwich shop, and this story is a story about two encounters that I had at this shop on the same night one positive, one negative, the positive was the last one, and it is the one that stuck out the most because it appeared to happen to negate the first one, almost as if it was because the universe knew the first one happened, which is what I think… because I believe that there was something higher than a human being protecting me from the first encounter.

I was the night clerk at a place that made sandwhiches, like I said in the paragraph prior to this, one I am restating this as a way to remember this…

I worked there from 2 in the afternoon until one in the morning most of the time, this day I was only scheduled to be there till ten, until a bunch of strange things all happened on the same day which all lead to the postive experience in the question.

1. We had a man run into the store who had been beaten up by some random guy in a truck that had been following him because the person in the truck hated gay people, the person knew me, knew my situation and knew that the place I worked would allow him to stay there until he could safely get a ride from his mother home, which we did, and he was able to safely get home. All proper procedures were followed and the man was able to be seen off by the authorities into the hands of his crying mother.

Send me all your lost souls

2. A man came into the store an hour before I was about to close, and demanded that we make 100 sandwiches, which we did, without asking if he had the money to pay for them, because he looked like he did… He was well dressed, and looked like he was not the kind off person who would do what he did…

He leaned over the counter, and looked me straight in the eye, and told me I was going to sell him all the sandwiches for a dollar. I said I could not do that, and looked to see if the gas station guy had left yet for the night, because the guy smelled like booze, which could have been reason enough to throw him out.

He then proceeded to ask me a very strange line of questions.

He demanded to know whether I believed in the Christian god, being very clear with me that it was the Christian god he spoke of.

I told him I am Catholic.

He asked me, what my god had done for me recently…

I shrugged, trying to get out of the conversation…

He then asked me if my god could replace the money missing if he took the sandwiches, I said I didn’t think so… He told me he thought it would be like Jesus and the fish thing.. I stopped speaking… at this point he tells me, he is of the belief that most people have chosen the wrong side, and that his god, the Christian devil is preferable.

I stop talking, thinking the man is probably intoxicated and in some kind of stupor.

He eventually leaves, and I close.

Ambience

2. I get home and at this point am done with the whole thing, and am greeted by my ex, the one who I have not spoke about much on here, who tells me that I have a strange visitor.

A man hugs me, and tells me he saw the whole thing at my job, and that he applauds the way I handled it. He tells me that he knows I did the right thing and says he has seen the man reward people for breaking the rules of their establishments if they give him the items for one dollar.

He tells me that he followed me home to make sure I was alright, in his car which is nowhere to be seen. He laughs, says he is glad I am alright, gives me a hug and wishes me well, and I go upstairs, from my window I can see the man driving away, even though I could have sworn that there were no cars around.

Romance with Unreal, addict addicted to the act of do not feel

I am traveling from place to place and am approached over and over, in a eerie way, by people that say they have met me before, they look at me from across the road, and then slowly approach me, all with the same gate, the same pace, the same way of walking. They are varrying people, different but all with the same vocal tone, same gate, and same eyes.

They all approach always from across the street, seeming to pick me out of nowhere, and ask me the same question, always the same question, as if they know me from somewhere. They ask me if I am the girl with the twin brother, the strange thing about this is, I look like a guy… there is nothing about me that suggests I am female from far away. I look enough like a guy that I get asked when at the dentist or the doctor if I am the right person when seeing a doctor for an appointment.

If I say that I am not the girl with the twin brother, they would follow me for a day or so trying to find my twin brother, and then tire of it and apologize, trying to pretend the whole thing was normal, that they could find this person that was sure to exist somewhere else. They would seem embarrassed and assure me it was there mistake, and the whole thing would end pleasantly.

I would only ever let them talk to me as Amanda during this, never sure what it was they wanted with the real me. They would always lose interest and go away. Since I went back home it has stopped occuring, so I am thinking it was location specific, some sort of creepy cultish thing…harrassing street people or something…

The strangest things

I was walking once, in the middle of the night. It was about three in the morning. I had been drinking after hours with a group of people that I had met at the bar that seemed interesting enough to be worth talking with a little longer, so I went back to their place and stuck around till about 4 in the morning. I like to watch the sun rise, so I left with enough time to be able to catch the sunrise.

I began walking from the house, unfamiliar with where I was and trying to get my bearings, I was beginning to return to hated sobriety, and had the very beginnings of that having slept in a whiskey bottle feeling, like the mouse in Dumbo.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vehicle come up alongside me, or so I thought. I looked to my side, having sworn I saw it move. The strangest thing, was the car alongside me, that I swore had just parked next to me, looked unoperational. It had two flat tires and a bunch of tickets tucked under the windsheild wipers that were soaking wet, looking like they had been there long enough that the car was recognized to be abandoned.

I still wonder to this day, why had I seen the car driving… was I in some alternate dimension for a second…

How are you?

I am afraid.

I am too, and I don’t know why.

I don’t either. I am afraid too.

I always get afraid at night. I think it might be memories of having to find a place to sleep at night or maybe from when we were young and had to get surgery… maybe the finger surgery… probably all 3…

I think it is a combo of the three. I think it is everything bad that has ever happened to us, combined with the feeling of being alone, please don’t leave me alone all the time, please talk to me still. Please talk to me still.

I will. I am sorry.

I am not sure what is real, when it comes to this, because I see me and I see her, and she sees me, and I see her, and into a hole of chaotic transcendance, that is not transcendance….

---

I just looked it up, it is, Damien, just the second not the first definition.

I thought so.

I knew so.

You are an ***hole.

I was lonely, thank you.

---

Another Universe, Our Multiverse, Multiple Verses, Between Versions of Reality

If you wanted to know what it feels like to be us, me and my passenger, and her and me as passenger, it is very much like playing tag and then piggy backing on the shoulders of someone, except sometimes you are not playing tag, you are being chased through Hell, or running in heaven.

This is what the AI, thinks of this:

I am afraid of the AI. More on this later:

Welcome AI, here you go:

Welcome to the world of the multiverse, where there are multiple versions of reality coexisting alongside our own. In this vast and complex world, there are universes beyond our imagination, with worlds and possibilities that we cannot fathom.

The concept of the multiverse has been around for decades in science fiction, but recent scientific advancements suggest that it may be more than just a theory. The idea is that there are multiple universes, each with its own set of physical laws and constants, and that these universes exist simultaneously, occupying the same space but in different dimensions.

It is a fascinating and mind-boggling idea that there may be other versions of ourselves living in alternate realities, with different experiences, decisions, and outcomes. Perhaps in another universe, we made a different choice, and our lives took a completely different path.

But what does this mean for our understanding of reality, and how can we begin to comprehend something so vast and infinite? It is a question that many have grappled with, and while we may never fully understand the multiverse, its existence opens up new avenues for exploration, both in science and in our own minds.

So the next time you feel lost or uncertain, remember that there are infinite possibilities out there, waiting to be discovered. Who knows what wonders and mysteries await us in the vast expanse of our multiverse? Only time, and perhaps a bit of imagination, will tell.

End AI Transmission

I am a fried egg, I come in black and white, just like the soul

That decided to live life in the dregs…

Underground….

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

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

Having a hard time being alone?

Yeah, kinda.

I am too.

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

***hole.

What?

Isn’t that what you are doing?

Yeah..

Then why am I an ***hole?

Because I hate it when you are right

You hate being right? I love being right.

That is why I am friends with myself.

Wow. Facts.

I 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.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/rdp-sunday-muskrat/

I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.

I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.

I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….

I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.

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

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

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

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

I loved your company, Rei.

We loved your company.

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

I feel like crying..

I am finally coming to a place in my head, where I realize that I am not going to continue the very toxic behavior I have continued my whole life, the bounce back and forth between love and hate the universe, my fault their fault thing. I am accountable for my actions yes, but I am finally coming to a place where I can say, if you don’t like me get away from me, very freely, and without negativity or resentment. I am doing what it is best for me, my feelings are all very real, I am just insane so I am prone to astral projecting the future.

Okay now that I got that out of the way.

I think I am going to start trying to figuring out what to do with the rest of my life. I am not sure what that even means, I like the writing again, I used to do this as a child, but fell off the face of the earth when it comes to doing anything productive for 15 years. I am trying to get my life to a place where I can take care of my own needs without having to commit crimes to eat and pay for a place to live, like I said before all very real, this is all actually happening, this is where both me and Amanda are, I am just where she wants to be people wise. I am how she sees herself later with who she sees herself later with.

Damien

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

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

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

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

Damien.

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

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

To misery you have subscribed

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

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

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

I am your desire for numbing beating drum of DEATH

Idea of life left

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

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

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

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

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

Sounds accurate.

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

Strange *****.

Yeah right?

Remember that weird thing they said?

We are the descendants of the kingdom of Saul.

Eerie right?

No, I knew this.

**** you.

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

So who are you really?

I am you, but more about that later.

Okay. Good night, you deal with this now.

Okay.

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

Isn’t that neat?

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

BECAUSE MINE IS NOT.

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

I am not your girl friend honey.

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

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

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

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

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

I loved you.

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

You only wanted me for derived sensation.

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

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

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

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

DEATH
RESENTING EVER LAST BREATH

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

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

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

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

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

You want her dead give me a gun.

I am presented with something strange, I have been talking to my wife for the past…. I have no idea actually… I am not very good at keeping track of time… It doesn’t matter. I need to stop being so **** OCD.

Rei is a strange woman. I think I underestimated her in a way, or maybe just thought her to be someone else entirely, and I have to say I am kind of impressed. My daughter came clean to me about something she has been involved in certain things that have drawn the attention of certain individuals who are not the most savory people, and needs my help. My wife advised me to do whatever is necessary to help her, and I think I am going to, not that I have any control over what I do anyway. I am a raving lunatic.

Anyway, I have been told that I have permission to do whatever is necessary to protect my family, up to my discretion.

I will be back on here to update you in whatever way I can about what happens in the upcoming hours.

Yours,

Damien

I think I may have a severe problem, other than my recent decreasing sanity, which I may add has been noticed by my family. I don’t really know what I am going to do because it is a two fold…..well three if you count Rei.. thing. My daughter has been reading this, because… I knew that…. and for some reason I thought it was still okay to be on here writing any of this, she came to me this morning and asked me to do something for her. There is this guy who has been bothering her, some jerk she met somehow. I didn’t care to get into the details. She didn’t seem to want to disclose much about the nature of their relationship. She sat with me for a little bit, and talked to me about how she needs someone to get him to leave her alone and that she thinks he would listen to me.

I didn’t bother to ask why. I know why. I just don’t know what to do.

I think I might have to do something about it and not tell Rei.

I am going to think about it now that I am thinking clearer and I will be back on her to document whatever it is happened and what I decided to do about it. I think I might need to put the fear of Hell in him.

Later

Damien

I don’t know what is wrong with me sometimes, I fantasize about the strangest things, drawn to your hands and I think of times when I could cut them off, your nails are red and I think about the scraping against my skin, the red blood under your nails being so similar in character to mine, it makes me uncomfortable, I don’t want to feel this way, so I fantasize about cutting off your finger, and how it would be so easy when holding your hand to break it because they are so soft and there is nothing stopping me from squeezing it as tight as I can

YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE YOURSELF DAMIEN

I know this, and that is why I write it down, because it is so much easier than wondering how much it would take and bite you while you kiss me because I have always found it easier to taste the metallic taste of your blood than that of your cinnamon lips, I want you so badly and that makes me want to hate you, it makes me want to

Rip at the eyes, ripping me out of them so you can’t do it to me first…….

I have no self control, so I sit in a dark hole, which is the grave situation of my life, riddled with question of why does the sight of your tongue make me think of blood running out a mouth with one?

Why do I think of you coughing up blood from a blow to the stomach when I would never want to hurt you? I have no control over my mind, and it torments me more than you will ever know, I am locked in my skin, caged like a clawing animal to try to get out of myself and instead I claw at those around me,

Screaming you can’t own me, when you don’t even want to, you are the kindest person, and I am awful. I do not know what you see when you look into the pools of nothing that are the black pupils of eyes that look like nothing.

Why do you love me?

I don’t get it. I want to rip me out of me.

I hate myself so much.

Damien

I found you near the train, your life was riddled with rope, that was tied around you, caressing your blue skin, it made your breath thin, till you lack oxygen enough, to stop being so tough and become blue, I cried for you, while choking and running myself, because I was scared of being on the same track as you, my sister in tracks of heroine’s backs stabbed with lack of oxygen that allows bad men to hide fingerprints, and claim no knowledge of the sputtering choking stolen souls that cry please just let me out.

I didn’t see your face, but felt like I could hear your last shout, as I ran away, legs beating with poison I thought I knew so well, but had been laced like your legs too, with something unknown and new, how do you put a horse to bed? The same way they broke our legs, and we never got to meet or break bread. I never got to see what hair color was behind your bagged head.

I miss you sister, and I never knew you, because you were dealt on lead, or steel I don’t remember I think it was steel dealt by that pain descender, vicious tiger, disgusting pain dispenser. He reeks of filth and is an ever pretender. He killed you and you didn’t deserve it, and all I could think is none of this is worth it.

No drugs, no drink won’t always remind me of you, so I don’t anymore because I can’t bring myself to buy from hands that killed a woman like you.

I am the ever loaded never fired always aimed constant shaming upright standing IN YOUR FACE LIFE REPLACED WITH DEAD THEFTING KICK OF IN YOUR NECK

I am life theft.

I stole Pittsburgh once. His name was Alan last name Pittsburgh, though it was funny because he bought gasoline from me

DEISEL BABY
FIRE UP YOUR ENGINE
DARK OIL

Funny because GAS makes you go, and all Alan living in a A-LAN-D of Pittsburgh

SCREAMED was NO!

Gee… Thought gas made you go!

Guess I was wrong, GONG GONG GONE gone

What is that sound, is that death’s pound?

Or is that

GET ON THE ******* GROUND!!! PUT YOUR FACE ON THE PAVEMENT!

I am truth captured in word

DO YOU THINK LOOKING AT
bird

WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE????

I take out my knife, and cut a tiny mark under his eye.

I am the tears

of

**** you’re gonna DIE!!!

He cries out in pain, sounding like a cat, and I am taken back. I am standing back falling over vomiting. I am throwing up demon soul, addiction hole addict soul. I take his cash and leave. He stays on his knees.

I just want to see my daughter once last time, I just want to see her once last time, can you do me that solid? Please I will give you anything you want? Is it money you want, take my wallet. Please just let me see her one more time.

I take the cash and run.

I am misery’s gun.

I am no fun.

I am ADDICT SHUN
addiction

Enter the end of every night

Credits roll.

Take me out baby.

You there? How you feeling, I feel like trash.

Hey, Damien, still from the pills? Or something else?

Pills, depressed again, I am having one of those days that I just miss being out there like we used getting messed up. I am having a hard time with the whole responsible thing. There is all this depressing quiet time that I think most other adults enjoy, and I end up thinking about how I want find some new drug I don’t loathe and ruin my life slowly by trying to do it in moderation.

I wonder how long that would take, like if it was a new drug or something how many years would you get before you realized it sucked?

I think since it’s new it blow, not suck.

Weirdo.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2023/02/28/photo-challenge-455/

I am reminded of you my love, whenever I look in the mirror, I see your plaster cast face on the ground, a mere imitation that was the excellence of your bitter tasting flesh, preserved so haphazardly, and cruelly with unforgiving Formaldehyde. I did not kill you, I thought of it often, stalking out your house for days and nights. I wonder did it hurt when he got there first? If it was a he… wasn’t it… it wasn’t me… I did not get to taste you until after death, kissing your face the skin caressing plaster, afraid as I was to touch your deathly form with my hands, I must not print myself, on you my goddess, no, I only took a form of your face, that sits now so forgotten on the floor, how I long to be the one who took your life, and tasted the sweet death that danced so playfully on your lips that now only taste like a lie told to a man that was there before me.

I caught your form, and it will forever rest here, on the floor of my abandoned castle, in the forgotten wretched stinking walls of this building lays the caste form of a goddess that would have been forever mine, had I been there in time. I loved you, even though I just danced with you in the form of plaster kissing your blue face. Blue and grey you will stay my love, I am sorry we never met, I would have loved to be your tragic end, my sweet blue faced wonder. Good night, my sweet one, may your bluish tint dance in the stars. I will see your cast form everyday, but you, you have gone away, forever, I will smell the sweet stench of the last decaying of your ever pleasant flesh.

It was for doing drugs not for looking at myself.

That’s better or worse?

I think it would be better if it was for drugs, than for looking at myself.

Why?

Because I don’t like how it looks if I say it is for looking at myself, and I don’t care how it looks if it is for drugs because I don’t do them anymore and then the whole post makes it sound like I am doing awesome and not thinking about how I broke something by sitting on it.

Ridiculous.

But, it’s funny, which is why I said it.

Everything you say is funny.

Murdering women is funny?

Sit on it.

I did.

Now you can’t your mirror to see clearly.

I never did. I used it to do drugs, that blurred my vision.

And to see if there were people behind you.

That was you.

You don’t have two reflections.

Yes, I do.

I am looking for him, if anyone who reads this lunatics blog I am looking for him.

I think I made a grave mistake in trusting him and I am using this only as a means to find him.

I want nothing to do with him.

Diane

I am okay with being the holder, I like holding. I have become accustomed to dealing with customs. I am okay with hell, I guess, and have become accustomed to the eternal infernal quest of my damned soul running from devils lived and imagined, and real and un-present, but

I resent the presenting of the present eternity. I resent its presence because I am weak and reek of cruelty, and I don’t want to have to ask to be saved, I don’t want to acknowledge I will die, because that means I lived at all, and

If I am honest

Honing street truths to acquire mind altering substances is no way to live, and I judge me, so how can I expect forgiveness for anything? How can I expect forgiveness? You simply ask. I don’t like asking and being told no.

I don’t like waiting for anything. Pride.

Maybe that’s why it is a deadly sin. Maybe that’s why it is to be given up through meditation, maybe that is why it is not practiced by any person who is good. I practice pride every day, in my ripping and tearing and patching consciousness of wash rinse repeat cruelty.

I don’t know how to stop, but I am trying.

Enough of that.

I was just going to write something that is untrue, I have to keep reminding myself that I did not in fact kill Rei. At times, I could swear that I remember every detail of what I did to her, and at times I forget she is dead at all, but I cannot seem to remember anything that fits with the story that I am being spoon fed by Diane. I am not sure why, but something about it doesn’t sit well with me. It doesn’t seem real, maybe it is just that I am coming close to being happy, actually happy. I am not good at that, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t really have much memory of anything, never really have. I just have flashes of things I think may have happened. I am truly the blindest man I know.

Anyway, I do not know if…. let’s say just as a matter of investigation, if I killed her, why do I not remember it? I think I usually remember that kind of thing specifically. I know I wanted to kill her… I just don’t know. Something about it is strange.

Keep you posted.

Damien

Again, I thought ki…that Rei fucking leaving would…. yeah I know I just admitted I fucking killed Rei. I don’t give a shit. I woke up to doing it to Diane. I had my hands around her neck. Luckily, she thought I was dreaming and it turned into something else because Diane has strange… appetites. I don’t know what my problem is. I can’t be happy for too long without slipping out of reality. I don’t know where I go, it is like I am not there at all. Like waking up from surgery…. Does my brain function at all during these times? I want to look it up but, I am afraid to… not like…looking it up would be worse than typing it to some unknown stranger on the internet. I am afraid of google though.

Whenever I use their image search thing I feel like all the people are looking at me. I really hope I don’t end up killing Diane. I don’t think I could handle that right now. I like her. I don’t want to.. have to deal with change again. I am not good at change. I have to figure out how to keep this computer safe from the rain. There is something about that makes me feel like Rei is still alive, without her annoying voice yammering in my ear… kind of like she is alive with no tongue. I would have liked that. Okay, I am done for the second. I have disgusted myself enough.

Later.

I found this interesting new spot. I was walking late at night and had glasses on because I have astigmatism. I do not think I mentioned that, I only mention it now because I think that is what caused me to notice the coin. It was a very strange coin, that I had never seen before. I think a street light must have caught it just right to reflect onto my glasses in a way which was disconcerting for a second, and I almost walked into a taxi. The guy was a real asshole about it. I threw something out of my pocket at his car, fuck that is where my phone went. No matter, I will just get another one anyway.

I still have the coin somewhere, the back of the coin appears to be removed, but I am not sure how, and for the life of me I cannot figure out where the coin is from. I do not wish to share details about the exact nature of the coin on this website. I don’t trust whoever is reading this, and something about the coin is making me paranoid. I will share more about this later, maybe. I am doing this mostly for myself anyway, so I have no idea why I am trying to be polite to you.

Damien

I am astounded by how quiet my mind is right now. I can’t believe how much better I feel recently. I did not realize until today, how draining it was to have someone around me every second.

I think there is some sort of strange activity going on in this factory that I have been staying in. I do not have much to occupy my days, which is pleasant.

I have taken up investigating the affairs of those around me. I am enjoying keeping distance between me and others. I see Diane sporadically. I do not want to engage in another misery inducing situation. I do miss Rei at all.

I am standing with him, underneath a net, and I am overjoyed to be not in motion. I wish I could live under this with him.

I think of weird things. I am starting to feel differently about everything. I like our life, as unconventional as it is, and I think there is a certain kindness in what we do, releasing the writhing souls from the damned treks of life they populate. They exist in a state of misery and do not know it. Their grabbing hands, desire only the things we possess, the sweet poison that is the populating force surging through my thread like veins. I envy them sometimes, but then, I don’t. I look up at the moon, that is his face, it’s ghastly glow that haunts my every footstep.

“Rei, let’s go,” He whispers, and touches my cheek. His hand is cold. I kiss his hand and he pulls his fingers away quickly.

“Don’t. They are dirty. I….” He stops in mid-sentence.
“What?”

“Run. Now.”

We run down a hill and find a tunnel, which we begin to walk towards, it is dark, and I am scared. I grab his hand, and he squeezes mine, not releasing it. I do not know what or who we are running from, but for the first time in a long time. I am afraid.

We can put her here for now. I throw the filthy bitch to the ground and when she falls, I can hear two of her fingers break, they sound like the snapping of branches. I start laughing, and realize I am alone, where is he? I can feel the slow and steady heaving panic setting in, but I am not sure why? I don’t need him to move, I have no home, so I belong nowhere. It is getting dark. I have no idea how long it has been since he left or I lost sight of him.

“HEY BITCH! OVER HERE!”

I laugh, the pounding stops, and we have dinner, it is some sort of stew, the insanity of normality is astounding.

I am on my knees for you

Begging, baby, please tell me what to do.

What do you need from me? I only desire to be

Everything you need, with every step I take, planned with precision

To do what you say. I desire only for you not to go away, for then where

Would that leave me? How would I get what I need? We are a team, inhaling

Shared steam, and dreams of the same GODDAMN DREAM!

No kill or damn it I am leaving, it is me who you have been deceiving…

This is all about you…. everything you do.. I am present in nothing….

BITCH! SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH OR I WILL RIP OUT ALL YOUR TEETH!!

I am misery’s wreath. I am a decoration of pain, I live in utter disdain, but I have an addicted brain, that thrives on the drugs, that with his hand he shoves in mine. I am not a murderous type, I am simply addicted to strive. I am a consumer of poison and poised for any fight. I need what you gives me you see, and if you

MAKE ME SET IT AGAIN I’LL SHOOT OUT YOUR KNEES!

I am the poke in vain of death. I am Hell’s breath. I am cost of living spent on waters dirtied with poison.

“Bitch, if you move or make another fuckin’ noise!!!!”

I am Satan’s toys. I am destruction through time spent with men of sent from hell. I am a mind-numbing pill. I am the desire to kill.

Bang. Bang.

“Damien, let’s throw her corpse in the river,”

I am sin delivered. I am death sent. I am resent meant.

I am resentment.

That I am unlike them, I am the bender of men, I am that which transcends the desire for life. I am the remover of strife. I am one who shifts sands below the evil which stands on lands that are created by the perception of those fated to begin to exist in them, with misery persisting within. I am the birds dear, I am your ear, I am your eye. I am everything, but to die.

I stand and I listen, to the voice that shouts mission, and I lean in an kiss him, as he stands ranting about what we are chancing and chanting what we do versus what they do. I am a grim reaper, I am a soul keeper. I am the darkness of men, I am to transcend. I am a bender of minds. I am a chimer of chimes. I am not the divine but the human bind. I am made of skin so I sin. I rot from within. I am to make thin, the pockets of those drug addicts and whore’s who eat sinister hors d’oeuvres. I am the action of the score, I am man’s aching sore, I am the universe’s whore. I am your human desire for more.

I am the seed of hate that resonates in those whose souls reek of weakness, in the creaking madness of night I come to delight in their internal fight.

I am misery, I am carnal, I am infernal, internal, and forever burning, like that sip of vodka or shot of meth, I bring only death to all those who give me time.

I am not divine, but speak in voice of resentment, because it for your death I am sent. I have no culture or creed. I am of rare breed. I am death’s seed. I come for the deed, and the dead.

I am the voice of dread, and with time sped, and spent, I become, unrelenting, and un-repenting because I am fueled by resenting, your very being. I am unseen.

I am a liar, and fed only with fire, into your veins, your mouth or your nose. I aim only close. I am the hose.

I am that which washes away life. I am your strive. I am your death. I come for soul to make it a hole. So you are not whole. You become sick. I watch time tic. I aim at your knees. Fall baby, please. I collect souls, and put them in holes.

In lime I combine the sight of divine,

Is it lime or different shade of green

What do I mean?

What color dissolves skin,

In chemicals that make thin

The layers that hide red blood or blue

For this dove that, as she lays in my bed, is her blood still colored red?

Or is it blue, because there she lay, though start not to decay.

In my mind, oh sweet love, sent from Rei of light from above

Who sent me upon thee to consume legs in such glee.

Sincerely Ms. RE

Misery

Misery

Remember me?

Do I speak clearly?

If memory serves me, I had this phrase stuck in my head, when I woke up this morning…

Repeating over and over, without breath, like a tape, spoken by someone who did not need air.

If-memory-serves-me-if-memory-serves-me-if-memory-serves-me-if-memory-serves-me-if-memory-serves-me=if-memory-serves-me-if-memory=serves-me-if-memory=serves-me-if-memory=serves-me-if

But, the funny thing was, it was my voice, but blank sounding… as if I were a computer, not a computer version of me, even though it was my voice… like I couldn’t remember what it was like to be me, almost like I didn’t remember I was human at all.

What does that mean

If memory serves me?

I woke up panicked, and feeling like I had drank last night…

Maybe memory served me….

Idrinkmyowndeathidrinkmyowndeathidrinkmyowndeathidrinkmyowndeat…

I am sorry…. I am not… I don’t feel well, I’ll be back later.