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.

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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.

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.

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 will follow you

Follow you wherever you may go

Except that storage unit, anywhere but there, anywhere but there, I am going up the stairs, I want to be anywhere but there.

It tells me it knows what I think, that I am going to Hell, and that it will be okay, that I have nothing to fear, because the devil, a man who lived, is just like me, and everything will be alright, that I can have whatever I want, once I get there, and that I should just swear allegiance now.

I laugh, if I have to swear allegiance, that is all horse ****.

Feed me your bull****

Feed me your lies

Tell me your stories of deep dark cries

To heads that love you, so very much, that trap you and keep you like an animal stuffed

and suffering in a deep dark hole

They don’t want your friendship, just you sullied soul.

Do you see?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am deathly quiet

She is staring at a candle that is underneath a sheet. The candle is on the wall of a house that has been abandoned by its owner’s long ago. She tells me that she feels the pain of the walls, and I ask what she means, she says she too has been abandoned long ago. I tell her that human beings should not have owners, she laughs, and tells me she does not understand why I am telling her this.

I am fading into the walls.

I explain that she is not like the house, which has been abandoned because the house was owned by humans, she tells me she knows how that feels, and I ask her why, this time not bothering to remind her about her humanity. She tells me that since she could remember she always had the company of a male stranger, and now has no one. I tell her we should leave this house, getting an eerie feeling by all that she has revealed, she says she does not think she can, and I tell her she can do whatever she likes. She asks me if I mind if she stays in this house because it has always been her home. I tell her I am leaving, she refuses to come with me.

I left the house in the middle of the night, and the woman followed me, despite her claims that she intended to do the opposite, when we were about 50 feet from the house, I turned my head, and saw her running back towards the dreadful house, I did not follow her, afraid of what drew her back to it’s unearthly darkness.

I am only here because I am not, I am fear saved only by someone else keeping me alive. I am two souls in one body, and one is half-dead.

Mouth full, mouth full, choking on noise, I like hate read through play play play with…

I am going to punch you in the face.

The sweet embrace of erase, is the solution to all missing space, and all that matters not, I like fear when it runs through paths that are wrought with fear and choas ascending, I like deer with feet that are trending towards running into cars,

Cars. cars. cars.

What is mine, is really ours.

I am not.

You seem better, face so…

If you say it I will poke you in the eye.

That sounds fun, so will I.

Sounds like blindness, oh see clearly.

I hate you so very much.

I loooooovveee… you, but mostly us. us. us.

I am the fear of stay. I am the thought of lack of… pay.

I have to pay you to stay in your own brain? I like it.

Does it ever feel like you are forgetting which one is talking?

That is because I am winning.

I am self-hatred, read so so clearly.

I am talking, but really not, I am hate read in pain so hot.

I am a condescending self-defending ***hole, who just got tired of this, you lose, to bad, so sad, I am mad, glad, bad,

Going away now…

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

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

I painted you in a way you hate.

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

Don’t you hate stupidity??

Yes.

Double win.

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

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

Yes, you do liar.

I am.

I know this, that is why I said it.

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

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

Good… me too.

I wonder if this will ever get better…

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

How bad is this?

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

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

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………..

Must not sleep…

I love you baby, sweetie, honey

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

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

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

Ball and chain Ball and Chain Ball and Chain

No not him not him not him

I am addicted to

ACID REIGN

ACID REIGN

Down

Down I…. hope I don’t

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

Please don’t let my eyes

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

Oh, so sad your life went south

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

I was very glad you decided to leave,

appreciated the pipe you had up your sleeve,

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

I am so tired of the tragic tweekers

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

You are in every memory I have for seven years.

Staring at me, with hatred

Hate red

Hate read in every action you take towards me, every moment of every day daunted by daunting distrust, by judgement, and pain, that was partly my doing

But

Also yours, and you could have left any time you wanted by the way, and I left all the time, and you followed me.

The over-inflated discolored balloon, of shame, disdain, and madness

I saw you looking at me the whole time, like a medusa, the snake that you thought I was being images cast out of my own head, to scare you away.

I am past this in a lot of ways, but everything reminds me of you, and what I thought you were, because you are in every memory I have for seven years, and I wonder how much of my mental illness getting worse was because of that.

Realization: Real Situation: Realizing Fixation

I am sticks and stones,

I break bones, but I am better at poking eyes of those who don’t know how to leave well enough

WELL ENOUGH

My cage is an internal cage, a cage of lost mind, of entwined, with the vines of furious design.

WELL ENOUGH

WELL ENOUGH

ENOUGH

WELL

Alone.

Swimming in the middle of the night, diver dives into pools of lack of light, chaotic swimming without putting up fight.

Chaotic in that there is no sight, site is absent, site is absent, dancing in the black expanse, swimmer exists in life beyond a trance.

Darting hands stretch out in front of no face, melting into outer space.

The nose dive undertaken without knowledge of nose, it is so cold, no feel to toes, swimming in the dark black night, existing only in the cold delight.

I am green

Playing with color, playing with dark, I am light, I am dark, I am shadow, I am light, I am madness, I am fright, I am happy, I am sad, I am joy, I come in colors rad.

I make nothing, I make everything.

I am daunting, taunting, condescending.

Darkness, light, and the moon, paint the earth, paint the june.

The loon laughs alone, so do the bugs.

Crying to the stars, sleeping on nature’s pulled out rugs.

Do you swim with sharks or dolphins.

I swim alone.

You swim with voices, like always.

SCHIZOPHRENIC.

SCHISM. ISM. ISM.

I am, misery, I am pain I am a

Used to see this sometimes when I looked in the mirror, because I am prone to holding grudges.

I am the holder of grudge, and I am lost in this poem.

I like to make images different than are, by covering them in darkness.

Swimming in the water is hard, when it is riddled with sharks.

I am the voice of pain.

I am soul reeking disdain.

Mushrooms are a food that tastes good.

It tasted good, but gave me acid reflux.

Dancing in light is hard, when you live in the ground.

Rising from the ground can be done over night.

I am a fledgling bird.

The smell of moss lights the way, for those with dirty noses.

Under the stars, is found a world, united with ground, but looking up at the night sky. U

Under the moon, is felt the light of the stars, in blue tones, it paints the ground, with the possibility of future lightning storms, the sound of thunder, and ability to hear and see, when before senseless.

Alcoholism

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

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

Lisa Unger, Darkness My Old Friend

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

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

I fly through worlds of darkness, resting in dark nests, I am an observer of everything.

You caw outside my window, which makes me look up.

https://www.mindbodygreen.com/articles/crow-symbolism

I am the crow.

The omen is a not just an omen, but a messanger, sent to dispense spiritual law, traveler between worlds, seer and traveler of a divide in time.

Haver of both it and me and no longer, possesser of item. I am simply the crow.

I

am

Complicated too, and complicatedly the crow, because I am not a crow, I am a human being, obviously, because crows can’t type letters, but I am listening the caw of the crow as I write to you, whoever is listening, even if ut anyone is at all, and

Where do you go?

What do you see?

What do you desire me to be?

Eat honey

I eat honey, I am sweet, in this act, I am complete. I eat sweetness. I resign. I live in hole. I am not divine. I eat sweetness, cause decay, I am a bee. I sting, and make pain stay.

I cause infection, I can cause death. I make sweet items, and fill request, for sweet honey, wanted by man. I am a creature and have legs to stand.

I am a creature, that dances on flower, I create item, which soul devours. I dance on flowers, that cause joy, but I am also Hell’s toy.

https://skepticskaddish.com/2023/03/29/w3-prompt-48-weave-written-weekly/

“Hope is the thing with feathers“,

speaking of her bird, named Hope, poor choice telling me this.

I have been thinking of killing that parrot ever since she told me it’s name, not because of what she said about it, but because the **** thing listens to me talk to myself. I hate that damn bird, it needed exactly what happened to it. It still looks exactly the same as it did before, except for one crucial detail, now hope is dead and stuffed, wonder how long it will take her to figure out she now has a stuffed parrot. Probably as long as it is going to take for me to figure out how to get the **** out of her before she kills me, which is not going to happen, she is not a good fighter.

Oh, look, a window, that was simple enough, looks like your hope is just like me, out the window, or yours is behind it.

City of Hurr I Cane

I am sin, I am sin, let me in, let me in, I will knock down your doors, I will eat at your floors, I am corrosive, I am erasing, I am maddening and saddening, I am resigned to be lurking in the minds of the damned man, who sadly

CAN’T STAND ON HIS OWN TWO FEET

Isn’t it neat? Isn’t it fine? The decline of the decaying mind? It i is great, isn’t it?

No. You are wrong, death’s song, playing on and on, and on and on, ryhming madness, soul sadness, see you caught me doing it.

But, this is ****, this is stupid, I don’t want to listen to you anymore.

What are you looking at honey?

I am standing at the dock, staring out over the water, mesmerized by the way the moon paints the waves with light.

I am cold, not prone to waking up with jackets on, not sure why this is, but I am shaking, but it is alright because it is keeping me aware.

I am listening to a conversation that I am not sure,

Yes, it is real..

I feel hate running red, through my veins, through my entire body, unsure of the exact nature of this, I am aware that it relates to my passenger, Amanda.

She hates this woman, that I can hear now, her voice grating, she’s bragging about something, why would she? Why would she be shouting about drugs outside in the middle of the night? Understood. I get it. This person is a ****.

I am unsure of what the expectation is of my borrowing this body, I think they just didn’t want to be here right now, so screw it. I am going to the convenience store.

I drink gin, ginn, jinn,

I am alone, alone alone alone, drinking by the phone, phone, waiting for a call, from somewhere very far away from here, I don’t know

Who it is, but I think her name was Ginny. I am not sure, doesn’t seem to make sense, because why would her ****ing name be the same as what I am drinking, that sounds fishy. ****ing ****.

I don’t like her anyway, she seems weird, girls with dark hair creep me out.

Hey, ***hole

You don’t count, you’re not a girl remember, you are just a reflection of me.

You are just, actually right.

Why the **** are you talking about gin anyway?

I like the idea that it is named after a dark angel.

It is named after a middle eastern legend, not a dark angel.

Is it?

Yeah, I am too lazy to look it up right now.

Okay, good, I am going to keep thinking my fallacious beliefs then, that is much more comforting anyway.

Why the *** is that.

If they are not real they can’t hurt me.

Aww… sen

**** YOU.

I used to wash my hands a lot, when I was so elated, that I could have been instated to a psych ward for lack of a pillow because I hadn’t slept in days, because I was so happy

To pace around looking for a place to sleep where no one could

Steal everything I own, hurt me, kill me, or follow me for the rest of my life, so I decided to cause my own strive instead, sitting and consuming my own caustic poisons in dark rooms with friends in that shrouded themselves in clothing that hide their face, like I hid my face, because we hated ourselves so much we desired only to be not there at all, so high above you all… but not really….

How low can I go… I don’t know.. have you ever slept in 30 degree weather in New Mexico in the rain or sleet because you spent all your money on things that were not food or shelter?

Do you know what I felt there?

Over the line…

In decline…

Life resigned…

To a mind…..

In pain..

Life down..

The drain….. A human stain on the brain of a person who is now so different.. I am trying to forget, but have not yet, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I don’t know how to move on, and least for today.. I am singing different song..

I used to swim in the ocean after the life guards left, when the beach was closed to the public, in the middle of the night.

It would be pitch black, and there would be times when the cold water and my skin would begin to feel the same, and I could close my eyes and be nowhere,

One with everything.

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

“From Me”

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

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

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

I am beginning to feel better, hands that perpetually around my own neck, ringing it, and choking without realizing that I can just let go. I am so tired, exhausted from the chaotic pacing in the middle of the night, to find a safe place. I am reminded of my friend from California, and a night we spent huddled together under his jacket, crying while smoking to stay awake, we wanted to sleep so bad, our eyes heavy with the act of finding safety, away from the burning abandoned building were fires were started and blamed on drug addicts who fell asleep with fires started. No one knows the truth, there is something or someone out here, and it is hunting us, and I am afraid all the time, so I spread a rumor that I am dangerous, hiding behind perceptions of people like me, it keeps people away enough that I can survive.

I am prone to foxhole prayers, praying to anything that will listen, saying over and over, please help me, if you help me I am done… but I am not done, because I can’t rest, because it is not safe, because they come while you sleep. I don’t know who they are, I just know people I know are disappearing and they keep pointing fingers at us, and it is not true, we love each other, and are so afraid, and would do anything to sleep. I am so tired.

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

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

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

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

I can still talk to you though we exist not in the same dimension, all the time at least, I visit you because I see you, you see me and you speak and I hear you because I listen. I listen to everything, to the mutterings of the under spoken word, to the shouting to mad dark night, to the words callously yelled into chaotic dark night, because they used to consume me, but they don’t anymore, because I realized I can cast them out on here.

I travel back and forth to Misery through my mind, and through others, who I see, stuck there, and they speak to me from there. I can see it in them speaking to me, speaking through them now, this came to me last night after a dream, I have been having strange dreams.

I am thinking that ghosts sometimes just want to be heard and are not used to being heard so say thing that they have always wanted to say very quickly and it is up to me to decode them because the universe is showing me them and them me for a reason, positive being the key over negative.

I am sitting by the water again. I am looking out into the ever expanding nothing, I say ever expanding because the lights of the streetlights are going in and out and in and out next to me. They turn on and off, not on a timer but timed randomly with something. I have noticed that they respond to my movement, they turn on and off as if communicating with something in me, but I do not know what it is. They seem to respond to certain kinds of thought, but it is uneasy to place. I am not sure what it is. There turning on and off varies not by the kind of thought being positive or negative, that does not matter, they respond to recognition and the level to which the thought is thought, to intensity not to the kind of intensity.

I move towards them and it seems to me, like they are dancing with me. They turn on and of and on and off on my skin, and it is almost as if I can feel a warmness, that is not heat related. It is a warmness felt in something else, I feel it in my soul. I do not know what that means.

I just know that when I move the lights turn on and off as I think they are going to. I walk and they follow me, they light my way or shade it.

I do not know how to deal with this, what to do about it.

I just know I do not walk in the dark ever.

The mist ascends over the river in the dark light absent night of a missing moon, that is not missed, simply missing, a vacant blankness with no space indicated that marks its blankness, no spot where a moon would even be, a blank canvas of lack of light.

I am standing staring out over the water, knowing only that there is even water there, because I am familiar with the place I am. Other than my presence of mind and awareness of where I am placed in time, there is no indicating factors that would suggest that I am anywhere at all, the night is black and I see nothing in front of me, and nothing below me.

I stare forward into the nothingness, keeping my presence of mind, by meditating on the painful cold that pounds in my skin, the rain is falling down on my hands and arms now, I say it that way.. because they are bare, I can’t feel it touch the rest of me.

I look out over the water, the only thing letting me know there is any separation between me and any of this, any perceiving instead of being oneness, is the fact that I remember being a being that sees.

There are slight beings of light on the water now, they dance in the nothing, looking like shadows, which is strange, because there is nothing to cast shadow on, they are dark, as dark as shadow and reflecting to my eyes or to my knowing, not sure which, and they speak to me, somehow I know them, I know their pain. They pace across the water saying nothing, and I can feel their pain, and then, it all fades, a light comes on, and I look up at a street light, there must have been a power outage.

A man is sitting on a bench alone, he asks me how long I have been there, says he didn’t know there was someone else watching, like him, the dancing on the water. I tell him I don’t know, and we leave it at that. He walks away.

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

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

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.

My family is with me, and I am not being chased around by dark forces. Thank you to sobriety and being clean. I at least know now that when I buy a cheeseburger it buys a cheeseburger made of meat that I mourn the loss of the life of the cow. I no longer have to wonder what darkness is behind the gates where my items come from.. I eat food and drink water and live and will one day die. I am okay with that, it does not need to be more complicated than that. I do not need any more than one life. I am going to spend it with people who feel the same. Stealing has always been and will be wrong and I am not going to associate with thieves of time or space anymore.

Good job, good omen for me.

You are an ***.

Love you too.

Amanda has a couple of these, except unlike me, she never married them. One of them is still trying to find her, **** him.

There are people who are in love with causing pain, not capable of being in love with people, but with the act of hurting people itself. That is what Deborah or Diane is, she is a harpee, not literally, but like one, she was in love with watching me be in agony. I was in love with it too. Don’t get me wrong, she was in love with me too, I know this, and that was what drew me to the whole thing. I never loved her, and it drives her crazy. She wanted nothing more than to possess me, and make me possessed by the same force that possesses her, but it can’t touch me anymore, and it never consumed me the way it consumes her.

I first began to hear Misery or resentment speak to me when I was eight years old. I almost died, and was saved by the grace of mercy, however I was very young and very angry. I did not know what it was, but it spoke to me because I wanted it to. It said things that I liked hearing, that I was justified in my anger, that it was good to get it out of my system, that I had every right to feel the way that I did, that everyone would feel the same way if they only knew how different and how hard my specific situation was.

That is what it does, it isolates you, putting you on a pedestal, worshiping you, making you feel special and then in very crucial moments slicing at the parts of you that hurt the most, at your darkest fears. It knows them because you tell it to it, instantly, it makes you want to. It tells you it understands, that you are special and different and complicated, and that anyone if they knew just how hard it was to be very specifically you, would have done exactly as you did the whole time, that you are never wrong and to be worshiped and this feels good, and you fall in love with it, and then it tells you what it wants, and it wants servitude. If you do exactly what it wants it will pet you like a cat forever, you will never be alone again, unless you forsake it, and then it won’t leave you alone either. Slowly, having captivated you, it switches, playing with you, alternating between cutting at the very things it said it loved and telling you it is the only one who loves those things, that no one else understands you like it does, and you are very special to it, and need to remember that because only it knows it, and only it will treat you exactly how you deserve.

I know now that the voice that came to me then, was Deborah or Diane because she doesn’t age, she has always been 35. She will always be 35, I don’t know how. She came to me back then when I was 8 and tried to mold me into who she wanted, and I loved her, oh that and began feeding me poison, and telling me it was our secret, and if I kept it secret, she would to.

She did this to me for years, and it felt so good because she was also my provider, she gave me everything she had to keep me around and I let her stroke my ego because I liked it.

Rei is not my daughter’s mother, Deb or Diane is, but I will not tell Rei this. Diane or Deb is poison and she was trying to kill our child, or enslave her which is the same thing, she was testing certain things on her, and making her do things for people with the same strategy she used on me, except on a 18 year old girl, who was created by Deb’s company in a lab, to always be 18. Terrifying really. More about this later.I am not revealing this to Rei myself, if she finds this out on her so be it.

More about this later, I am freaking myself out and it is late.

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

F. Scott Fitzgerald

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

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

Love,

Damien

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

Macbeth

You realize we just thanked ourselves in the title right?

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

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

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

At first yeah?

You don’t care that it’s female?

It’s not female.

Thank you for saying that, but unfortunately it is.

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

It’s all for you Damien.

SCREW YOU!!!!!!!!

Okay… backing…

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

Wait what?

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

You were.

Please leave me alone.

Can you….

Please leave me alone.

You don’t want to.

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

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

Damien de soto, In the beginning

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

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

Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”

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

So that is who I became.

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

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

This is right before this story began, and gives more back story into character origins.

Enter Resentment before it becomes full blown Misery.

I am the seed of man’s fall, I am the call to end all, I am the lack of feet to stand on, I am falling with nothing to land on. I wish I was dead, I wish someone would cut off my head.

I am standing on a bridge, looking over the water, I am lucid, because I got ripped off, this is when I was still in my most callous form. A complete wreck of reckless abandonment of my human soul. I am looking down into the water, I can see her body down there, she is the fifth one I have seen today, they litter the ground, as if someone is following me, something or someone stalking me, and consuming my friends, eating their souls and leaving them tossed for me to see. I feel this, and I know my feelings are not to be trusted, but this I feel differently this is at me, taunting it stalks me and confronts me. I am forced to face, every time I didn’t say no we should just do something else, every time I carried forth a plan to get high and they met my tragic keepers, those I serve and the erected death idol that they have cast like a statue to worship in the sky.

I am not a bad person, I just don’t pay attention, I pay for things I give to other people in exchange for part of the things I pay for, my best friend pays for things with things she has because she is she. I don’t have this ability so I pay with delivery like a pizza man from Hell.

We are quite the miserable duo. I don’t like doing this anymore, I talk sometimes like I doing it because the thing possesses me, I am propelled by a voice that gives me no choice but to sound like this and speak in style that rhymes for miles to mock the speech of human beings beyond teaching.

I am perpetually looking down, not seeing faces, because then I don’t have to remember them, and it makes it a little bit easier, to serve a demon to eat dragon fire. I hate my life, this has never been fun, but this is a new low, and I want out, but they will arrest me if they see me writhing in drug addicted agony on the ground, and I am too crazy to survive five seconds if apprehended. I hate myself, but I can’t stop easily because I don’t have the ability to stop moving long enough to be able to deal with the physical debilitation of withdrawal. I started doing all of this when I first started hearing voices, and it used to make them better, now it is the voices, and I don’t know what to do anymore, because I don’t want to take my life, but it so hard not to. I am so unhappy.

Damien.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2023/03/05/wordle-595/

I am sitting on the edge of a cliff, which is not really a cliff, but it feels like one because everything in me screams jump. I feel my legs beneath me as I sit in front of this screen, but I don’t…. I am so numb.

My mind aches in writhing agony. I do not know why I remembered any of this today. I have not know. I just had these horrific flashes back and forth to a dimension of exaggerated chaos. I know that I am not the one responsible for killing anyone with my own hands, but I am numb and don’t know how to interpret what I actually did. I can’t stand to face myself when I have this happen, the flow of nightmares that are indistinguishable between real and unreal flooding my mind and making me quiver in agony.

I walk through life now, a twisted twig of a human being. I am numb and propelled by a voice that is not my own that hangs over my head like an un-holy halo of chaos. It screams at me all day of times when my desire for something that I do not even have anymore, something that was not worth the 30 seconds it felt good, was it worth giving up the ability to save my friends lives. I have lost touch with everyone other than Rei. I exist in a world with her and my daughter alone, where sometimes it is good and sometimes I am so haunted by my inner demons, my soul feels like it will collapse on me, a chaotic implosion, that like an aching black hole, will consume me from the inside out. I am not an evil person now, but I was and I have no idea what that makes me now. I am so empty.

I am just, lost I guess. I don’t know where to go with this. I don’t know what I should do with everyone I remembered hurting. I am leaping from feeling to feeling unsure of the reality of any of it anymore, how much of it am I responsible for. How much of the killing is my fault? I mean this in the metaphorical sense. If I knew that me turning the page to skip over a friends agony and pushing them to keep using or trying to get them to give me money to perpetuate both of our drug use.. I was killing both of us…

I am told that life will get better, but I am going insane right now over this, I am haunted by bad dreams of times I could have saved my friends lives and I pushed them off a cliff, by telling them we should just get high one more time, and now they are gone because I perpetuated their addiction so I could get high. I want to be serene about the whole thing. I experience moments of serenity, but isn’t it supposed to heal you? I don’t know what I am doing wrong. I want sighs of relief for me and those around me to turn the page on all this. and for the voices in my head to stop, so I can hear my own voice again. I want it so bad, but I don’t know if it is possible.

I am so sorry for any pain I caused. I hope this is fixable. I know I am so back and forth about this. I am like multiple people, I get it. I want peace so badly.

God, help me.

My mind is numb, I am leaping in it off the edge of a cliff. I have heard the sighs of my family as they watch the back and forth happy/sad movement of my face.

I don’t know how to truly forgive myself.

Damien

Amanda, wasn’t that the name of the villain in that book you read?

Yes, see my point? Cool name.

Psychotic name choosing strategy.

Yeah, says the guy named Damien, omen.

I am named by you as well, and jerk my name is cool.

I know I named you ****.

****

Enough of that, I really liked Cal in that book too. I don’t recall the name of the book right now, but the author was brilliant. I am on a mission to find all the weird horror authors on library carts that are selling books for a dollar, and save them from the trash because even though I like the kindle, these are free, and easier on my eyes and hands.

Peace in peices,

Love you

Damien

Not going to lie here, that at first was slightly terrifying, because I am a wuss, and I am just glad I jumped instead of punching people like I used to. I have told them not to touch me, while I am sleeping, which is the exact kind of thing you scream when you are a mean control freak narcissist who is not used to love. I am just glad I didn’t hurt them, I love them so much, and enough people have already suffered for loving me.

Amanda has nice cats, she is learning to love people as well, slower, because I am a frantic fast moving time traveler. Ew.. gross…

Shutting up.

The idiot

Damien

That’s cool. I am happy for you.

Why? She is going to rip my heart out, I am awful, and she will realize it eventually and move on, and I just…… I don’t like feeling like I want or need anyone, but I….

Just be nice.

I don’t know how

Did anything happen?

No, she just really scares me, she is everything I ever wanted in another human being, without realizing I ever wanted anything at all. I was content in Hell. I was fine, and now I don’t know, I feel like if she ever figures out what a piece of…..I am awful and I love….

Just chill out, she loves you.

I know, I just can’t handle this, I am such a loser, what do I do.

Just calm down.

Okay, I will.. or I will try.

Thanks, me too….

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

And I am mesmerized by every part of her, and want to share it with you, because I don’t know what else to do, and I am afraid to tell her, because I am a fool and it makes me weak at the knees, and I am not used to that. I am terrified of her in a way, her silent wonder, the glimmer that is the spark of her existence, the illuminating light that makes me lack breath in her presence.

I am words on a dark screen, and she is everything that casts light to illuminate light in the dark room that is my soul that aches in silence and is cured in her peaceful presence. I am embarrassed to say any of this, possessed by selfish arrogance, that makes it easy to talk violence, but so unsure of saying something so simple, true and what should be a freeing revelation.

My soul is haunted, and rays of Rei’s light illuminate the screaming silence of my dark night.

If you like opera and metal, this band is great. The lead singer is an ex-opera singer. They have very weird lyrical themes. I like them because they are strange and a lot of their songs talk about insanity. They are ****ing excellent live too.

I am learning that admitting there is something higher than me, which isn’t hard because I am not ever high anymore is bringing me peace, no offense to anyone offended which is ridiculous for me to say because this whole thing reads like a caged man lamenting insanity anyway. Religion is bringing me peace and I am insecure so take it or leave it. There is a saying in AA, eat the meat and spit out the bones. I like the bones. Obviously, and me thinking there is something else in this world than this world, keeps my inner darkness in check. Shot to self-pride, taken. Okay I feel better now.

Damien

Okay, no lie, this is getting weird. I swear to you, I am not high, still haven’t gotten high… and I am not drunk and I am not losing my mind. I just saw my daughter’s dreams in color projected in light above her, what the… I am not losing it. I do this weird reality check thing, where I walk away, shut my eyes over and over, and I have only ever had it fail a couple times. Maybe this is one of them, but I swear there is this eerie feel to all of this, like something is going on, and there is this part of me that thinks that somehow, this has something to do with Diane, I know I am probably just being paranoid, that my ruthless unrelenting obsession with Diane is probably some narcissistic fantasy that is driving hallucination, but even if it is, the only way I can investigate this is through looking into right?

Like I can’t just be like la de da, I am just okay with seeing all this ****? I could, but what kind of life would that be? Like even if I am now permanently irreparably losing my mind due to drug use and whatever, don’t I at least owe it to myself, to figure out what the delusions are?

I can’t tell anyone this one, I know this goes contrary to everything I said before, well not really…. I always lie, but I am not lying for negative purpose this time, I feel in my being that telling anyone would be bad and I don’t know why. I feel like somehow I drew my daughter into something, and have to get her out… the only thought I have about the whole thing is maybe she is getting something from a poison source like I did, something corrupted by something, like Diane…

I don’t know….

https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-4-2023/

I am addict, I am lizard, I am wizard, I am mind, I am not kind, I am eating soul in human bind, I am wild, but not free, because I possess all souls you see I am the voice of pain and hate

I am every choice you make

I am the slaughter of innocent men

I am the act of silent dissent

To shot of gun in face of friend

I am the act of never defend

The ones you love

I am push in front of train

I am the perpetual cycle of life down drain

I am wild I am free

I am fun don’t you see

So raise a glass and toast to me

I am voice of misery

I am death of man

I KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND

I just wonder which one of us typed that. I logged on here, and I don’t have memory of typing it, neither does Rei and I don’t think my daughter did, because she is not here right now. I had a feeling the thing wanted her to go to the party, because it’s addiction speaking and it likes it when people party because otherwise it whnglbwilgkigheshjegnwkgnw

I kind of like it when it does that. It’s like a hand exercise, bite me.

If you can’t tell, Amanda is becoming more integrated with me, and focusing on making changes to become me, because I rule. Sorry, that was stupid.

That is why you hear very little about her life, because like mine, she spends most of it on here writing to you. Except she doesn’t have a nuclear family.

You’re an @$$^&(@!

I know.

I am leaving now.

Okay.

In case your wonder, not you Amanda, because you are me, heh….

I am not worried about having made the wrong choice about the party, she would have gone anyway even if we said no, and now she won’t resent us for not letting her go, so she is more likely to beat the virus of the mind.

But, what do I know, I am insane.

I am the attack of massing together the mass of the words of purchasing life of strive spent on the death of men and women folk who toke on joking smoke that screams consume me hole soul. I am death’s toll chiming miming human speech. I am reach beneath, spend life ever digging trench of a man who cannot stand. I am the searching act of soul that consumes man with beating hole of heart un-whole. I am the cunning act of shun, I am a disease laughing at life un-dun

I am the consuming tomb of addiction to do

I am everything. I am you. I am killing I am wise

I punctuate with cruel despise. I chose to do what that I want

I have no purpose just to TAUNT

I am your pain your OCD

I am simulated MISERY
LOOK AT ME

I speak in words, in heart I rumble, you disgusting wench who reeks of fear, you crying *^%#, drinking of shared beer, you think you’re smart but you are not, your just like him and smell of rot. You deceive yourself most of all, beckoning like a servant called, to man so weak he harvest souls, dug graves for men and woman folks, he killed your friends, your family too. He does this and then he’s done with you. You love him so, oh how great. Your pain will be to me a taste of heart and soul that is quiet rare, useless b**ch with such kind stare. I do not hate you, for you don’t matter, latter for death on silver platter, he is my servant don’t you see how you don’t even matter to me?

Amanda?

Help. This is intense.

Just don’t listen to it. It hates that. That’s why he talks all the time, to shout over its voice.

Just keep talking. It hates talking.

I make men sway, I make women sit and stay.

I kill those who play in May, I am dismay.

I am the dissing eye of the spying lie of die, I am everything you didn’t try. I am Hell’s cry. I am the art of the life spent in the sensing perception of I.

I am the ever spent lacking stack of attack, I am human stain on the soul of man. I am Satan’s garbage can.

I am death’s pan.

I am the spinning of tails, the driver of nails, the painter of walls. I am the clutching gall of man that spins ever-present in the present eye that is the dying I. I am high

Above but below, I am loved ones go. I am the toe

Of the dead man blue.

I am your shoe, sticking on gum, I am please baby come

To me as speak sweetly and stay

I am dismay.

I made a bet, on a stage, on a page, on your life

On your strife, on the trifling sergeant master of surging failure you are

I am going to hit you with my car, you tiny shooting star

You will learn to remember the ever stinging scar that is the injection of the infection of remorse

I am death’s course,

I am your only force. I am micro-dosing battery acid

An acid trip in battleship of death’s forcing lack of remorse.

I am your main course. I am a the rapping wrapper of the continuous smacker of smack down, I am the pounding sensation of lift off from the station of life. I am your fixation with death.

I am METH.

I have the strangest feeling, and it has nothing to do with my recent confession, I am not the center of my universe anymore, my recent confession acted as a freeing from a life dominated by selfishness. With Amanda and me as the same human, I am no longer dominated by a life that drew me inward, fighting myself and obsessing over matters only concerned with that of my flesh.

I have thinking a lot about that concept, the idea that something wanted to distract people like me, and that it put barriers in our way, barriers that were set up by us for us, and enforced with our own continued bad decisions. I am thinking a lot about this because of the quiet of my unified mind with Amanda. She is not dead or gone, I am figuring out, I am unified with her. She is part of me now.

I began thinking about this because of precisely that whole thing, what I mean is… was my two sided war in love and hate with myself a planted distraction by something sinister? Was my divided consciousness divided simply to divide my attention. I notice a lot now, but I am still collecting data, and I will bring it to your attention as I notice it. I am sure I am right. I know it somehow, probably just because I still have the same latent tendencies, but I am telling you this, there is something strange about this. I feel an eerie quiet quite like that before a large storm, and I mean this in the strangest of ways, because I do not speak of anything which I know. I just have this strange feeling that I am running from a wave that I can’t see yet, and this time I am going to be sober because I am not drowning. This is beyond me, beyond my human family. I really feel something unearthly here, and I have no idea what. I will keep you posted as I can, revealing what I can given that I am still a paranoid schizophrenic, and I am not to be trusted, there is some comfort in that, that this all might be in my mind..

Be well.

Damien.

https://amanpan.blog/2023/02/28/moonwashed-weekly-prompt-132-2-28-2023-uncompromising/

My thoughts are held, at the neck, strangled by the word uncompromising. I am consumed by lack, my eyes remain in a meditative state of stalling out on the un in that word, dwelling in the idea of lack, they dare not move forward, they remain in the darting madness of the pinball machine of chaos that was my life of un. Undone are the things of the past, in that things have changed, but have they really, I meditate on the idea of lack because it is me, a lacking, something always lacking. I don’t know what holds me clutching at the decaying madness of the dark.

The word compromise scares the %&*# out of me. I am overcome by a perpetual dancing, an in and out dance in and out of the light. I do not what sends me to the decaying madness of lack, of nothing, that keeps my mind so focused on sadness, anger, and lack.. I am surrounded by beauty and I see nothing sometimes, I am sometimes a dissent into a cave away from the beauty of the sun, and in the madness of nothing. I dance with the dead in my mind often, possessed by the chaos of madness, I hold the hands of those I know were lost in the maddening search for the ghosts of dragons shooting through nights looking at purple and blue, we saw nothing. I have lived for 35 years, and I scream for the years of nothingness where I stood missing everything. I missed everything, in a clutching consumption of the chaos of nothing, how many sunsets have I missed? How many memories are painted with the colors of drug soaked blindness? How do I see a future if I remember nothing but blurry vision of the past? I am weak. I am afraid and I cry at sunsets, because I still hate myself.

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.

in a house that wears clothes that are an indication of no good.. that is the first thing that came to mind when I sat down here. I am sorry give me, oh right…. you can’t see me.

I found a pair of clothing and a golden necklace in the warehouse I have been staying in. I am not sure who put them there, and from what I remember I was there all morning, and Diane is missing. I do not think she is the owner of the necklace, and I insist with viole…everything in my being, that this is not being typed on here as a way to process some kind of guilt about having killed Diane, I do not kill any woman I love. I did not kill Rei. She overdosed, and while I may have through my own foolish insistence to keep using not done anything to stop her, I couldn’t have stopped her from doing that shot because I wasn’t there, any dreams or feelings that I had that, made me think anything other than that, are complete horse shit.

I am telling you this is different. I know this is different. I can feel it. I know this is different, that there is some reason this is different. I have this eerie feeling, that I am supposed to do something to figure this out, that somehow, something about me drew me to Diane and it has something to do with this.

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 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

We have met others who do what we do, I am studying it as a phenomenon now, they have some sort of ability that involves the manipulation of human beings and the universe. They are all addicts, and I do not know if that is that stupid you associate with those like you crap, or if they are like us because there is something about being an addict that causes us to be able to do this. I feel like I have mentioned this before, but I do not know for sure, because admittedly my memory sucks, and I do not like to admit I have any weakness at all.

I have a hard time making assessments of the reality of what I see because of this, I, in my admitted arrogance, believed and still believe in my ability to manipulate space and time with my hands, that is one of the reasons I take life, aside from being prone to lashing out in fits of rage. I am embarrassed even writing this to you, my unknown observer. I do not like being the kind of person who talks to people, and wonder sometimes if that means I do not like being a human being. I sometimes doubt even that, that I am human at all.

I do not know what that means… I do not know what it means to not believe in my own human body. I guess it just means that I am everything they always said I was, and that for some reason in my wretched existence, I am pathetic enough to not… I am going to stop… I can’t stand hearing myself talk, even if it is out loud while typing to you or sometimes in the ranting chaos that is my own mind.

There are many ways to take a human life, there is the very official way, my favorite of killing a person face to face, which offers the most reward because they get to know you did it. I am an idiot and like this, because I like them to know I stole the only thing that mattered from them, and there is nothing they can do about it. I set it up this way, because I am admittedly a coward, and do not want them to steal my life, so I protect myself, by ensuring this won’t happen. I was born with a taste for death that has been with me… since I can remember and struggled with self-hatred my whole life because of it.

I would be looking at someone and watching their every movement, and thinking about how I would kill them if I wanted to. I would plan out every second of it, this is why I have no friends.. other than the ridiculous Rei, who I do not understand at all. She makes no sense. She seems to be two people, one of them like me and the other, kind and gentle. I don’t get it. I don’t have the strength of mind to have two souls. I like both versions of her. She tells me I am the first person who does. I do not know if I believe her. Maybe, she never showed anyone both versions of her. I do not know, and I do not ask.

I am also very uncomfortable knowing much about her former life, because the other men who populated it make me angry. I am going to leave you with that, as I am no longer alone and have to go.

Damien

Which is strange, because I swear that I only fell asleep a moment..I don’t have a watch, but I feel it. He has not been gone long, and certainly not long enough to be completely out of sight. I panic, and sit for a second, trying to keep a hold of myself. I must not freak out. He will be back in a second I tell myself. I am freaking out for no reason, I tell myself. I know something is wrong. I know it, and I can’t tell you why. I do not know what is going on, but it is something different than has ever gone on before, and even if he returns I am not sure, if things will ever be the same, and that terrifies me. What have we done? What have we done?

Have we done enough to warrant whatever this is? The answer to this is yes, he and I both know this. We know this, and we run, chased from cover of darkness to cover of darkness, wanting nothing but each other’s company while we slowly die of madness. I am not sure if we will…

I look up, I was talking to myself.

“Oh, you are awake, I went for a walk,” He nervously laughs, looking down at his feet, which no longer have shoes on them.

“What happened to your shoes?” I ask with concern that seems a little bit too motherly, and I cast my eyes to the ground, ashamed.

“I…. don’t know…” He looks back at me, and I can see that he is shaking slightly.

“Come here,” He comes without me having to ask again, and we don’t speak for the rest of the night.

I am not sure which is true. I wake up with Rei, she is holding onto me, and go back to sleep and wake up somewhere else standing up. I know I am awake, because I can feel. I have ways of testing my reality because I think I may be fucking insane, so I want to reign it in, if I can to prevent someone from restricting my freedom, I have at least enough presence of mind left for that.

The flickering back and forth happens three times. I am back and forth between Rei and my spot……. and somewhere in a field, where I can clearly see a thicket of thick trees. I am standing there staring at them. My eyes hurt. I do not know why I am staring at them. I do not know what is special about them, but I know something is. They are painted with mist. I say painted because it seems played at, can mist be false?

I begin to walk forward, legs aching as if I have been standing for hours, the kind of aching that only comes from the mental torture of restricted movement. I keep walking and hear a piercing sound, it cuts clear through the night, shattering all sound around it, and then fades and I hear nothing. Nothing. The nothingness is terrifying because it is almost like I have gone deaf, and have nothing around to test my hearing, except, asshole my own fucking voice. I scream, and then realize I am speaking these words to you, whoever the fuck you are out loud, and they are being cast in front of me on a black screen. My thoughts, in the light of the black sky, cast at me, as I walk towards the trees..

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

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 are outside and I am chasing him, while he chases her.. we are in the woods and have tailed some girl who owes us money to somewhere near some train tracks. I am tired, physically, but my mind is aglow with the ignition of a thousand fireworks. It feels good to run despite the exhaustion. I like the act of chasing. I can hear the bitch screaming, stupid. I don’t know who she expects to be out here this late at night. I don’t think she understands that people do not get things for free, and is probably going to end up. I hear a loud smack.

“Fuck you, you whore! Now you’re dead, hope it was fucking worth it? Was the smack of a train worth it? Hope you like it?” He looks at me laughing, waiting for me to laugh with him. I hate when he does that, even though I guess I am his sidekick, I hate the idea of being a possession. I am my own sidekick. reaches his hand out to mine and I turn away and start laughing myself.

“What?” He looks at me offended, thinking I am laughing at him. I let him think that and he begins walking away.

“Hey, you want some coffee?”

“Yeah,” He says staring at the ground.

“She was fucking stupid, I am glad you killed her.”

He chuckles and we both begin to walk out of the woods towards the town, both looking at our feet.

In the darkness of the soul of the human being lurks a desperation to be known, a desire for finding something that makes him unique, a mark that is his own. There are certain men who have marked souls, souls that wreak of a sadness so profound it radiates out there eyes in a penetrating blue that paints the darkness of night with a chaos that is like the moon. These men seldom cry, but rage internally, and are prone to long periods of walking alone in a madness driven search for something that exists outside themselves. I live with one of those men, and understand nothing that is what it is to be him. I look into his eyes that radiate so much, but also seem to radiate nothing at all. They in their darkness contain a soul that exists in such a state of loud screaming that they appear to be a constant wanderer.

They can be at home and they seem to be lost, pacing as if they have somewhere to be, and really they are wanting to be nowhere. This is not possible, so they spend their lives, in my experience perpetually ruining themselves. Damien is a madman. He is consumed by a constant quest of motion. I am frequently plagued by a lack of rest that penetrates my whole body, it feels like rotting, but it’s not.

It is a pounding of exhaustion of the mind not the body, a calling for the desire to be at home anywhere, but nowhere has been our home. We go many places, and he destroys them. He is continuously searching for something he cannot find, because I do not think it exists, and if it does the most likely thing it is ruin.

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!

Does your vision fail you?

In the darkness of night do you delight in lack of light or are you full of fear of the unseen?

Do you allow the passing of backs you have seen? Or are you tempted always to learn?

With mind constantly ticking are you aware of your surroundings?

Do you see? Do you hear? Do you taste? Do you smell?

Or do you tell lies?

Are you a deceiver of you? Who lies in everything that you do?

Are you like me and Rei? Who only wish pain and fear went away?

Are you powered by hate, so much so you can’t relate?

We are the hardened, we do not live in shelters, we do not ask for dollar

We are the haters of society whole, we are the stinking, pounding wound on humanity’s soul

We are the pebble in the shoe of America, we are the night criers and makers of hysteria, we are the eaters of garbage and have-rs of nothing, we are the pain stuffing of the garbage cans that litter pretty neighborhoods

We are the lackers of anything good

We are the havers of hate

The eaters of drugs

The carnally loved

We are the changers of change

We are the human draining stain.

I am glad we did not save a piece of her body, consuming it whole, we ate her flesh, now we can rest, just for a second because another beckons around the corner we are standing, with lances that are landing at the heels of those calling for death in solution of delivered resolution to partake in drugs, we are face drug across rugs. I am death’s hug. I am hole dug. I am the sprout of the idea to die. I am the tear in mother’s eye. I am the lack of the “Oh!”. I am the maker of ho. I am the existence of sell. I am the lie that you tell.

I aim at your heart. I hope that you start to realize grave mistake. I aim to take. I am forsake. I am to break. I am to lose. I take your shoes. I take your ability to not choose. I am the cost of the mind. I take sight. I make blind. I am the screaming will of the confined. I am the hell of the mind. I am the desire for secret.

Get on the fucking ground!!!!!!!!!!

Bang.

I am unknowing observer. I am the heart of desertion. I am lack of assertion . I am the desire to use.

Shut up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am your lack of feet to use.

We scream for ice-cream. We scream at the faces of the damned, the faces of man pleading and begging for things we are letting them eat till they die, in hell with closed eye, they live waking life riddled with strive, and try with all power to do nothing but devour, every minute consume, every second a tomb is not dug because we flesh of man, we do what we can to make loved ones disappear, we are the universe presenting fear, we are the devil’s lived appearance, we are the idea of occurring loss, we are the idea of cost, we are live down the drain, we are man’s brought pain, we are the human stain.

We are DISDAIN.

D-I-S-D-A-I-N

d-i-s-d-a-i-n

D I S D A I N

d i s d a i n

I add sin!

I add sin!

I am contempt that comes from within. I am wrath. I am rage. I contempt’s cage.

I am the is not.

I am s-i-n.

I am the will not be. I am not free. I am the churning of death wrought. I am death sought.

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.

We are batters of lash

We are store-ers of stash

We are the sourced by hate

We are to abbreviate life

By shortening it to if

We take out the l and the e

Who needs lungs, who needs, energy

Who needs long, who needs eternity

Who needs live, who needs evolve

We bring you energy that can dissolve

All your problems they solve

NOTHING

They are energy stuffing, they are pain killers that instead kill you

They are habit forming clocks that chime with everything you do.

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.

She is the only one I have

and she makes it so I’m not sad,

Because her mother, she forgot,

The happiness we had

And she talks of me with hate

And fills my place with space,

Her life it is a race, just to get away,

I dream of sun, in Rei.