I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Roll the die, I will bet we get a better roll, we the one with two souls, make it good, make it quick, maybe this time, the idea will stick, that we are one, but we are two, and we get one roll, not four or two.
I am standing blaming you, blaming them, blaming something higher, blaming something below me on fire, blaming circumstance, blaming the wind, maybe one day I will begin to win, but not today, snake eyes now, maybe I should just stop staring down, get my **** eyes off the ground.
I look for peices my whole life, clues from God or my Higher Power, I talk to them, about what is truly going on, and look for answers, and they or revealed to me.
This happens and has happened because I listen, I think that this can happen for anyone who listens. I don’t think this happens to me because I am special or anything, I think this merely happens for anyone who listens.
I am looking at you, but I am not, I am engaged in negative thought, which is not out of the ordinary.
I see you, but I don’t. I want to, but I won’t. That is the whole problem. I am never able to accept… never is so final..
In my mind, exists a battle, between up and down, sound and silence.
I am imaging someone, because I have no one, because I have failed my whole life to do anything other than serve my own selfish interests.
You seem so happy and care free, thinking about happy things, and living free and givingly, wondering why bad things happen, questioning why me? Why them?
I envy you, the constant debate of free soul floating through life in conversation with self and human being.
You do not understand what lurks beneath, and sometimes I wish I did not either.
You walk on the ground, looking up, not casting eyes down. I
am forever in a swamp.
I cast my heads up, I have two I think, two headed dragon, I think, fire breathing darkness lurker.
I hide in shadows, because I scare you, I say things and you look at me like this, like a creature with multiple heads, are there places for three headed dogs?
I don’t know..,
I am green with envy
I am green with sickness
I am green
I am mean
I am coming undone
I am no fun
I am sickness
I am addict.
I relate humility and humiliation, a lot because I always did. The root words are similar, and for me, until today actually they appeared to be the same thing, forced bowing, like someone had conquered me, or something… the spirit of the Spanish Conquerer, someone said something to me about my name and that. It hurt… but so does someone saying I have brown eyes, because everything hurts my feelings.
I was listening to someone say that I have to do a fearless moral inventory, and the thing is… I don’t know what the **** that even means because for me morality has always been enforced with fear, Spanish Catholic superstition.
It is funny, I was cleaning with Diane when the spider incident happened, and she got mad, and I think it was partly because she believed the spider to not be real, and even if it wasn’t what different does it make? I saw it, so even if it was unreal or real, is it any more okay or not okay if it is or isnt? I made a loud sound because I was genuinely afraid in that moment, of something I thought I saw.
Decay or I don’t know grow? I am not good at positive words… that’s all I have to say about that, I think… I thought of that in the shower, and that is all that came to me so that’s it folks.
Warning- I use poetic metaphor to illustrate intense feeling of dual diagnosis addict/alcoholic dealing with manic/depressive symptoms during break-up. I used bleeding out as a metaphor here for pain in recovering from the breakup and it is graphic, if triggered turn back now.
I am lying on a beach, in my head, because it is winter, and bleeding out, of a wound that is not literal, but in my heart, my soul, my mind, bleeding all the time, dying over you, my ray of light. I loved you with every fiber of my very fragile being, and I am admitting that because I finally realize I need to, to stop bleeding out of my soul. I am doing this to save my life, because you cut my soul so deep, I thought I would die, without you, and that can’t be true, but in the moment, I felt it so strongly so deeply, an aching, pounding sickening vomit inducing ache that penetrates everything I am and makes me have to violate everything I have ever believed to be strength to scream on here in pain to save my life, I am so hurt. I need someone to hear me, and this page hears me.
I want so bad, to have what I never had, what I imagined, so vividly it seemed real with you. I was stupid, I am insane, and somehow I made you out to be, everything I wanted, and I don’t know how I convinced myself that is who you are, when you just wanted items and money and confidence from me. I hate myself so much for being so stupid, but writing this makes me realize if nothing else at least I am not you, at least I tried to be kind, and I would never do to you what you did to me. I am healing through the realization that while wounded and crazy sometimes, I don’t want to hurt anyone like you hurt me, so I will keep going and stay clean and sober and hope one day I will find peace.
Is that breaking the rules? I am adding feet because honestly, I walked from Oregon to California with my friend Chris. It was Southern Oregon and we walked to Northern Cali. I started my journey elsewhere and got all the way across the country and for anonymity so my ex doesn’t mess with me, I am just going to say somewhere north to west, buses- mostly grey hounds, hitching rides, walking, trains, and then a plane ride home and he/she is still in Misery. I am so glad to not be there, anymore.
I never thought I would make it back home. I walked to Cali with my friend Chris the Christian. He was very nice and peaceful and sang to me about God the whole way, and then I got annoyed because he started to say he was falling in love with me, and I walked 150 miles myself, alone on the highway while praying.
This is what proved to me that something was protecting me, because whatever it was, it guided back to my family and I literally walked alone at night on the highway and something got me back home. Thank you to my higher power. That is the only thing that makes sense, I should be dead but something saved me.
In case anyone is wondering after the public display on internet of my complete meltdown, I do not miss her at all. I am realizing she never loved me because I never loved me, so I am done with relationships, until I can learn how to walk again. I feel like I broke both my legs and have been trying to pretend they haven’t been broken for 15 years. To avoid permanent paralysis I am going to stop walking at all with anyone, walking meaning dating, and a metaphor used because dating is supposed to be a walk outside one’s self. I need to be within myself right now.
I am so lost I can’t get lost in anyone else’s eyes, because people only see reflections of people, reflected light cast to the eye in shadow, and this is too dangerous for me right now, because I am mostly in shadow, having never actually looked in the mirror, I don’t know the difference between me and a lamp, and I think this has always been my problem. I think I was so crazy because, I did not even know what a human being was, because I had been told my whole life, it did not matter what it was, because I wasn’t one anyway, being a monster addict, with paranoid schizophrenia and a split personality.
I am going to try to learn how a person like this can do something positive with their life, because I refuse to believe the only place for people like us, yes the royal we, is on the streets screaming into the chaotic night.
I am so sorry for anyone who worried about me, because of my loud public spectacle, at least I get it in my own room this time, on this on this blog only.
I have been a basket case all day, up and down and up and down. I am so exhausted, that I just can’t do this anymore. I am resolving now to try and move on. I am accountable for everything I did. I know this, but I don’t think suicide is the answer, or rather I know it is not. I can’t do that to those around me, and I have been driving myself in the opposite direction today. A lot of what I have posted today, has to do with me flipping out because there are no meetings today, so even though I have my family… I am very much alone in my own head until Sunday, church helps me. I don’t know why I have to do this to myself. I am driving myself crazy, and I don’t have to, but my brain does it anyway. I am really starting to think I need professional help. I am getting my other affairs in order and then I think I am going to start going to therapy.
I have finally reached a point where I can safely admit I am no longer able to do this with the resources I have, as helpful as they have been. I can’t keep doing this to myself because it is painful for those around me to watch. I keep trying but then my bipolar defunct brain keeps sending me back and forth and it is maddening. I am a lot of the time incapacitated by my own inner demons. I wish I could stop, but I think it may be time for me to admit I need professional help.
I just hope I can do this.
I am so tired of the back and forth hellish roller coaster I have been on.
I don’t want to do this like this anymore. I am sorry to anyone who worries about me. I am trying really hard.
Or Vietnam for the dinging dong.
I am starting to realize my higher power gave all this to me, so I could see clearly. God gave all this to me, so everything was just exactly as large as it needed to be for me to see it clearly, with the power of See Clearly, or a guardian angel with anger issues that thinks he is a devil because he hates himself. This sounds like a movie, but it is not…. yet…
It is how my life always sounded to me, like a movie.
Like someone made a movie that was a characterization of my fixation with fiction and addiction with sensation and dictated re-tracing of steps that I was walking in the valley of death that could really be the valley of life that I thought I was walking through alone, but I had really been entertained by angels the whole time, just thinking they were devils, because I had it backwards. I had not lived enough yet, to know that Damien was sent to me to protect me, so I crafted lies written by despise with eyes that hated me the most, I am Satan’s Ghost.
Now I am trying to see the Holy Host.
I am trying to bring the power back to the powerful and not the power hungry, because feeding power into the hands of the evil does nothing but give me bad dreams and it seems that means for me that I can only dream of the real and not the desire to steal and not feel. I can no longer be a meal of the dead and consume unholy bread. I am not break bread with devil who never lived because he is an angel that lives with me.
I am free. So is Damien.
He is me, too. I am the two spirited ghost host of the vision of clarity brought to me by divine elation divined in a human being obsessed and dressed in the pain of infernal stain of flame bringing earth sensation..
I walk away now with a mission to be more than fiction but also that
I am Hell’s bathe in the water’s of life and glory of God, I am not great, merely a human with open eyes and the extreme sin of pride who is sent to purify my soul by realizing I am not, my sin is hot and wrought by my hand not His. So I write you this.
Turn the page on whatever strive you have by every day finding the joy in everything, something loves you because you are still here, which means you are needed, even if you believe in nothing other than science, you were the winner, and you are strong and you can beat all your demons that are just fictionalized real things that face you every day. It matters not what I believe that varies with what you believe, only that I tell you this.
The most important thing a human being can do it love and accept self and then others and with that power comes the power to build dreams beyond your wildest imagination because they come from a power higher than any drug or drink or pain fueled death idol could ever make you.
I love you and I don’t even know you, imagine how the ones who know you feel.
Damien and Amanda
I made friends with foxes because we used to pray the same way in the same holes, not the same way, I am a human being who cannot speak animal neigh
I am a lunatic who stares at the moon and dreams of clear streams that are for swimming not fire and speed. I am the lack of blood on arms that were charmed enough to live not charmed but gifted by the lifting of chosen curse or eating dirt, because child heart I am also arrogant as Hell. I aim to tell you things because I like to talk because I am a narcissist who made a choice that if I am addicted to my own voice, why not at least say something good?
Owl City-“Shooting Star”
Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light
'Cause it's time for you to shine
Brighter than a shooting star
So shine no matter where you are tonight
Instead lies for crying eyes who hand me DRUGS, I am stronger than street thugs, but weaker too, a lot of them sell drugs to feed families, I shot heroin to commit calamities, acting out of complete insanity, I am vanity on a death terror ride, through illusion cycling through past for you, so you can see what I say and not go where I went and do what I did, because I don’t kid, I am kid who got saved by my creator, I am a pained footed waiter, not a metaphor an admission. I am just one suffering addiction speaking divine inspired truth that is inspired by God.He saved me.
I do not want to preach or teach, just simply save lives, by screaming the whole jails institutions death thing is real
and I feel un-punctuated and so elated by getting to tell you this.
Do not take death’s kiss people love you, please stay, if you listen to any of my psycho ego babble, I am playing scrabble with apples with words for you. I want you to know wherever you go, whatever you do, just say no to drugs, I want much more for you, because I love you and don’t even know you. Imagine how those who know you feel.
Love yourself. We recover.
just thinking about how I mad I can’t have this set to be 2 authors at the same time… and then
You realized that would make no sense because you can only type with 2 hands?
Yeah me too.
I have four hands.
No you have two. I have two and your higher power works in mysterious ways through the hands of others, ah moments of clarity.
And extreme arrogance or the sin of pride or the idea of self-love for those not seeing through our Catholic version of reality.
I want to make it very clear….
That sounds threatening.
I know wasn’t it great.
You are not God. You don’t get capital Gs
It was just made clear to me that we write about spirituality not Christianity. I am in no way saying there is one way to end misery and come towards mercy, find peace in pieces of your choice.
Or is it just us and Amanda’s dad? This is cool, she is giving me the ability to have the childhood I never had because she wanted me to be her savior all her life…. that is why they always thought we were a devil worshiper, but we were really just a sad child with mental illness using addiction as crutch instead of leaning on a higher powers strength to change the world we hate in positive ways, by changing the things we can and leaving the rest to Him.
You are also stroking your own ego, pride buddy, pride.
I had a really good night with Rei, not like that… don’t be gross… I just slept next to my wife, with my child in the next room, in a motel where I haven’t written violent messages on the wall and incurred a 250 dollar fine I will never pay because I am a lying dying crying madman.
You aren’t dying, we are just becoming one person, who talks to ourselves positively while also talking to God.
I read this, and I am trying to wrap my head around it, and it is giving me a headache, so read it if you aren’t lazy like me. I am posting this mostly as a mental note for myself to research with Amanda later, I have friends!
I think the main thought I had when glancing, albeit briefly at the article is that Diane is not a character in the same story as me and my friends, but a point of fracture, and that my main objective may be to get out of Misery and get back to regular life, great analogy right? Aren’t we clever?
Stop being gross.
But, seriously what if that’s what it is that is causing my problems? That I have been worshiping false idols and got myself stuck here in a fractured half version of earth and that is why time goes by faster here?
I am speeding by nature, I don’t even need to do drugs.
Must figure out how to handle Diane.
I got nothing.
I just really scared myself. I am not going to explain how, because I don’t want to do it to you. Don’t look up negative things online.
We kind of look like the same person, except she is female, and I think she is the person I am during periods of time I don’t have memory of, maybe she really is just an addict like me from another place, that somehow I am communicating with. It’s funny, my first thought was I make a good looking girl, and then I almost threw up.
I am still nauseous now..
We can stop stroking our own egos now. It is making me uncomfortable.
Now, I understand a lot more about my life. I think we were just jumping from dimension to dimension blaming the other one for doing things we actually did, she is thinking to me right now she used to say Damien did it when she was a kid, which is why she almost got institutionalized and did get institutionalized a lot, because of the stupid Omen movie.
Okay want to hear something trippy?
I just thought about how a snake eating its own tail is a metaphor for me and Amanda stroking eachother’s egos. My first thought in response to that was, that’s nuts because of the obvious dirty joke. You figure it out.
I type in snake eating it’s own tail and it only shows me pictures of squirrels. I have not looked up squirrels in pexels. I am not kidding you. I think I am crazy.
No seriously though, I did. We can do things faster here than you can, because we get more minutes, per hour, don’t ask me how, and no it is not through doing speed. That would be miserable, and it doesn’t work. I tried, that’s what I was doing when I was losing my mind.
The way to do what we do will be explained later. It is too complicated to explain right now and quite frankly I am lazy.
I did some research on my name which I think my writer gave me for a reason.
Damien means to tame or subdue. Oh, bitter and caustic irony. I love you.
de Soto- de is Spanish meaning of and Soto apparently means small grove.
Rei- this can be either Japanese or Hebrew, Rei is not Japanese so I looked up the Hebrew name and it means my shepherd, my companion, my friend, well clearly. 😉
The Japanese word meaning clearly can mean that or crystal blue, funny, right?
Ever seen Breaking Bad?
Blue water is nicer.
Thank you God, not Amanda, but God. Thank you, I am a virtual reality experience that is being showed to Amanda right now, so she can test on herself what it is like to have a spiritual awakening and to carry the message to other addicts, because we are both afraid, no longer.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God.
I feel like I want to start screaming out loud.
I am done being in pain, I can have a life and it doesn’t have to suck, and I get to have friends, and a family, and I am not going to kill them, I love everyone and I don’t even know you, but you matter to me now, and I have God to thank for that, and I am no longer ashamed to say that. This is amazing.
Feel free to join as we try to figure out what to do about Diane.
I am deviant creature, I pretend to be a great teacher, I speak through the addict as preacher, I am of infernal design because I am not kind and write of the peril of men and women like me, because I am the blind one I cannot see that who I am undoing is me. I am going insane, merely documenting my brain, and its moral decay.
I live in a world with fake creatures, yet pretend to be a learner and teacher, while pretending to reflect, sit back and reject that the person I hate gets clearer and clearer with every look in the mirrored reflects of me seen in my work. I am a developer of murk. I am also an arrogant jerk, who is obsessed with themselves and creating this hell that I pretend to use to make points even though I still am conjoined
In my heart and my soul with resentment. I am not that far from those of who I speak, I have the same soul and cannot teach anything to anyone because I stopped just because it was no longer fun.