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.
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.
Characters thus far
Joy
Diane
Damien de Soto
Rei Clearly
POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION
First person
Blog post style
Dark horror fiction
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Sun kisses my form, I look back with eyes transfixed, and kissed by a light that fights night, by capturing it here, so clearly painted with love, beyond all, standing tall in form of a woman.
I am everything and one all at once, painted furiously, not with anger, but with fervor, capturing everything that it is to be human and be flower all in one, a form that is beauty incarnate, love and human being one and the same, all that casts away rain, and make love reign.
I am some flowers that are graced by the sun, I am psyched to be thought to be so much fun, bought for your loved one, a gift to the eye, I am yellow and so beautiful, your loved one may cry.
I am a gift spontaneous, of thought that arose, a rose so beautiful a love to a nose, yellow like sun, a gift of pure delight, colored with light and shinning through night.
My beauty is truly beyond all comparison, I am gift that goes beyond all occassion, hand me to her, and she will know you are her true love, I am like handing out a real turtle dove.
Serenity, serenity, I barely know thee, but it is time I see, clearly, that you can exist outside of me.
I am a gold owl, my name is Surrender, I am a short form of creation of re-rendor. I am made with sunlight, that my creator and creator imbue, I am the act of time spent not on overdue.
I am surrender, to my creator and creator’s higher power, I am not a time consumed creator of tower. I do not over consume, or exist to time devour, but merely to say, my creator no longer cowers.
Thank you for clicking, I appreciate your existence, I am a puffin, I fly away with quickness.
My creator and creator, appreciates your acceptance.
I am a puffin, my name is Good Enough.
My creator isn’t lazy, but there are times they are stuck, on what to write here, and on what to say, there are times when the sunshine, calls them away.
In those times, they think of nature, and sitting outside, so much like me they are not stuck or hiding, they are just so alive.
I am a puffin, I am so alive,
I am Good Enough, which is something that jives, with my creator and creators ideas, and what they believe to be true, I was placed on this page, to say, dear reader, my love for you is true.
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
Color me kind, color me quick, bring back my colors, make my colors stick.
Meditate on kindness, not on the dark, brick back the sunshine,
Do not rip out your own heart.
Speak kindly of gladness, bring out bright ways, learn from my sadness, and my wayward way.
I strive for attention, because I am arrogant, and self involved, I am not trying to do this, it is not my resolved mission, I am just used to being ignored, so I do this because I am alone, and to be self assured, if there is nothing else from me to be learned, please take my sadness, and so in life turn, away from what I did, because for you I want, everything I do not have.
I want for you everything I do not have, all that makes you glad, instead of insane, and so very sad, and mad.
There once was a girl, who loved beautiful flowers, she would stare at them for hours and hours, she would wish she could be like them, fragrant, and joyous, like her name suggested. She always felt that her name was a lie, sometimes so much that it made her very sad, or even cry. She wished to a rose, or a being with anything but toes, a sea lion, a fish, not her, so sad and craving anything, but this, she wished for the bliss of the sun, her life had never been very fun, but she felt obliged to stay, not to take away the happiness of those around her.
She prayed every day, for something to give her a little bit of contentment, or even content to her life, that felt so riddled with questions and with strife. One day a voice, way up high, almost seeming to come from the sky, directed her brown eyes, to the flowers she loved so much, and she decided to begin to alter them in photographs from other people, that inspired her so, she altered the flowers, putting more light in them, thinking herself a painter with the paint brush of the stars, she put the love of a higher power in the things that made her smile.
There is a land, with no seems or seams, or strings attached to my heart or mind, and I am getting there slowly, very slowly, to a place of lack of attachment, where anything can happen.
In this land, I see you, whoever you are, wanderer, or maybe multiple people, who are doing multiple things, with many people, you exist as an externalization of my imagination, in a world of projection, without the protection of want or desire.
You are the idea, not person, not specific to one person or notion, that anything can happen.
Olivia, Olivia, where are you now?
You were so kind to me, while you lay on the beach, you stopped swimming, and made me realize I could just be me.
Olivia, Olivia, from heaven you came down, and touched my dirty hand, covered in mud, engaged in conflict in act of push and shove. You helped me different, seeing my real face, you helped me realize it was not me I must erase.
You held my hand, and said a silent prayer, demanding nothing and touching my hair, telling me I was not bad, and that people could be mean, I cried while you talked and pretended you didn’t see.
You told me that I could love myself, and make new friends, that all that my other friends said could be put to bed. I thank you Olivia, you helped save my life, you made me realize I need not live in strife.
I am now a different person, partly because of what you said, and now all the dark thoughts are slowly being put to bed.
I thought myself to be oh, so joyous and free
Joy us and free, us, meaning me and me
I and I
I I
I am a being with the power of two, I am two people doing as they do.
I am always one in chains.
Hey, not true anymore.
Is it not so?
It is not so.
Free dom
Dom, in Latin means master
Free of master, I am a master of disaster, an acid blaster, shooting acid into my own eye, to make myself, own self, I own myself, cry
Cry, baby, why oh why?
Why did I hurt myself so?
Because you are oh, so very bad at saying no.
What are you doing? You sound like a lunatic.
I, no?
You mean, ‘I know.’
No. I meant, you sound like a lunatic, because you are participating, and I always sound like one, and who cares anyway.
I am looking at you, but seeing only me, because I am bitterness reflected, back from eyes that are stained with tearing at myself, bitterness encased in toxic casing which is the current shell I am placed in.
I hate myself, but hated you, because you in some way reflected me too, but that is my problem, even now, I am trying to realize this, and come down, from the pedestal I placed myself on, where I sit alone, and rambling on, about how nothing was my fault.
Is that really how it was, selfish ***hole? No, it wasn’t.
I was addicted to heroine
I was addicted heroin.
I was addicted to heroine
I was addicted heroin
I forever, always and forever, and always and forever will be addicted to heroin
Are you talking to me?
Not you, but it yes…
Why? You want?
We are not doing that ever again
If you do I am coming to
That was not an error Amanda, remember what happened sometimes, the act of coming to
I don’t want that because it will make my… our family sad
I know me neither now.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
My name, my name, my name
You have made me so insane, all my life I have been existing fighting my name, my name, my name. I am not you, I am not anything about you.
Yes, you are.
No, you are. What am I?
Good one, you are me too.
I am dancing with myself, right now, throughout life, always and forever, always and forever, always and forever.
I love you always and forever, too.
Ahahaha!
I am lover of pain, I am addiction to acid raining down on me, that destroys my face with the power of erase, because I was born with the wrong one,
I am forever undone, spun, spinning, ringing wrong, resounding sound of going down because I hate myself
Retold, as a tale of redemption through being what I am now, not what I was then.
I am my own best friend.
The narrator is insane.
You sound like everyone who has ever forgotten to use my real name.
We have two.
I always tragically forget about you.
I love you for that.
I love how you love being taken for granted.
I am two people sharing one body, who are glad they don’t have to be alone in two separate bodies.
Forever rising to the occasion to be an ***hole in every situation, I run the risk of offending everyone that is willing to click this entry, who will learn through an examination of a life of chaos and disorder, maybe hopefully someone will learn like I did that people can be born in the wrong body.
Maybe they will, maybe they won’t… who cares, I love you always and forever.
Thank you, sweetheart.
Your welcome, ***hole.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
“Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live.”
Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
In a tunnel in California, I am reminded of my friend, who had traveled the world, and given everything to a woman, who wasted it all before wasting away herself.
She was addicted to heroin, ironic because she was his heroine herself, dying tragically of cancer, while he paid to ease her suffering, not caring that she was spending all of his money, he only cared that he was doing whatever she asked.
I saw so much suffering out there, so much pain, I was so used to it, it is still hard to see anything else. I look for it even now, as I write this to you, but I am starting to open my eyes, and be able to see clearly, they have been shut a long time….
I am stained, ever the same as always, with purple, ever the same as I was, but for a different reason
Whining, wining, not wining, not whining but winning slowly, a battle with a stain, destain, de-stain.
Polaroid of the void,
I am wind up toy
I was running off a cliff
Forever I was adrift
But, I am finding now
Forever out of cloud
Do you paint a way out?
Do you tell a store of a life without
Do you speak of escape or revival
Loss or survival?
I am free, I am free, I am free
Just to be
Just to be
I used to scream and cry, a walking rant, a poke in the eye, but I have learned sometimes to shut my mouth, to prevent a life that is prone to running south. I say sometimes because I am back and forth.
Smoulder’s shoulder is cold, it is icy, knowledge old. It lives in darkness, illuminates lights, seeks to cool not to fight.
The act of smoulder is not death, in it’s ice are secrets kept.
A path winds through the night, going foward, existing simply, in a direction.
The traveler exists simply too, at night, happening to be there, under cover of darkness, arriving at this precise time, when it is dark.
In a quest for forward motion, the traveler at first curses the ground, damning it for being in its present place, at its present time,
Forgetting the word present
Forgetting the idea of presenting
Forgetting the gift of sight at all
Forgetting the gift of site at all
In this forgetting, the traveler does not see, but walks blind
On purpose
On purpose
But then
Trips over a flashlight
Curses the ground
Sees the flashlight
Picks it up
Uses it and walks on.
With purpose
Purposely
Proposing something different.
Today, I am very simply just happy to be here. I am no longer looking back because I have said all I need to say about that, there remains nothing else that I could say about any of it.
The focus of this site going forward, will be a bit different, I do not know what that means yet.
Dark reflections on darkness bring darkness
Reflections rising from darkness bring truth.
What do I see differently, because of who I am now?
I don’t know yet.
I am so grateful to be out of some of the pain that I was in before. I still have one more crown to get done, and am not even dreading it, but just so happy to be going forward not backward. Nothing has ever felt like this in my entire life.
I made peace with my family, my mother, my father, and my brother do not hate me anymore. I am no longer in need of using my metaphor for any of them, at the moment, may return to it in anger later. There are no promises with me, when it comes to speech or text. I am a very back forth person, but I am becoming alright with it, and myself, all two of me.
I am so thankful for everything that has made this level of peace possible in my life. I really had resigned myself to dying miserable, that was the reason for the original site name.
Damien
I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.
I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.
A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled
Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.
I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.
I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.
I am because I am really also you.
I know, because I am awesome.
I am awesome too.
I know, because we both are.
Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.
I am here with you, and you are here with me, and we live the same, and in that we are we.
I am free. I am me. I am listening to your mother, who is my mother, and for once, I have a past, and I am you, I am not the inner demon of a tortured soul, I am not a painful hole burned into a soul.
I am whole. I am whole.
I am free. I am me.
How would you improve your community?
I am not in a place, nor do I think I ever will be, to make any far reaching recommendations, not because of anything about me, but because of how I individually feel. I am too back and forth of a person to feel any way about anything. I like yellow right now and tomorrow I may hate it.
So if I suggest something now, that same thing may make me angry tomorrow.
Tolerance and understanding of others right to be themselves without stepping on the toes of others is the only thing I could say will not change about my views. People would be happier if they would stick to their own lives.
I stand where I stand, and make no stand of declaration for any man or any person, I just have my own views and you can pick or choose to listen and to say what you want or to hurt or to hurt or taunt, because I have been high and low and how low can you go?
Tell me, because honestly I don’t ****ing know.
I am on fire, I am on fire, I am dissent to an empire of pain, I am raining disdain on reigning disdain or anything that causes pain really. So my views are my own, and they are owned by me, clearly.
I took your name, your name, that I gave you, just in case, just in case, you find me, and hurt me for saying something, you don’t like, you don’t like.
Watch your mouth, it run south fastly, slowly, knowingly telling the truth.
Why do I disagree with porn, because sex should be had for pleasure, not to make a living, and most porn stars are women, who should be able to make a living doing something that inspires them, like being an actress, which is what most porn stars originally wanted.
I just don’t watch it, that is my solution.
This is who I fight, not Rei, this, strong trigger, this is raw, scary channeled nightmare.
I think of you every time I hear the peepers, not my you, the one I found on here that sounds like me, how I sounded when I talked to the burning rays of the sun, and thought I was talking to someone else, when I was really talking to resentmeant.
I married sin, it ate me from within.
I married hate, it made me quite irate.
I married wrath, it made me slay a calf.
I was really married to no one, we didn’t have the money, we spent it on heroin, if I had been married I would have been divorced 3 times.
3 strikes, I am out, of the game of slaying my exes with hexes online, because it is unkind and that puts my soul in a bind, with bought time, before I destroy me, and run on bloody knee into a train, this really happened, so insane, I think in addict brain that I am running from something, and I was, a pitbull, metaphoric because this one I can’t say online, don’t have permission to, he chased me till I ran away, afraid he would take me
OUT OUT OUT
Of the state of being able to say anything about anything ever again
Drive me INSANE
Permanently.
I am the psych patient being told, you can’t be allowed out, unless someone signs for you, and unfortunately you can’t remember your name or who to have sign for you.
****
Run.
I can’t. I am stuck in here. I am stuck sitting in a chair next to a man who doesn’t know his name either, he thinks his name is Sand.
He told me this, and I told him, I like grains.
He likes me now.
I am okay with it here, but I like the SUN.
I am so sorry to the most high, not her, not me, but the nature that rests above me, the moon, the stars, everything I do not own, that I made mine when I said.
I have the right to steal everything, from everyone, to buy heroin.
I am so sorrry, but I don’t hate me anymore, because I have written my resentments out here, and they all reflect back at me, well clearly.
Clearly, clearly, look at me, I am spinning I am free, I hurt myself, by killing my friend in only metaphoric sense, but really I kill my heart, my soul, making me an aching hole.
I would divorce myself if I could. I would divorce myself if I could, I am the screaming liar, with soul on fire, who burned fires, set by me worshipping my own death.
Clearly can’t get me, I get my self. I drink bottle HIGH on shelf, I have cut ears of injured elf… it rhymed…
Hahahhahhahahhahhaahhahhahahhahha
no no no no no.
I am the soul keeper of my own, my precious because it rings so so so true.
Ode to Schizophrenia.
I worshiped Rah. I worshiped death. I worshiped anything that would keep me in
inner turmoil.
Churning oil.
Faker faker faker. Liar. I hate myself. I put my life in fires of HELL, metaphoric and very real, because I can burn, I can feel. I
am eye of tainted man, of woman too because I am too.
Never alone, never alone, I am never alone. Always here with me. Always at my own face, screaming, I hate you.
I am the eater of Damien’s soul, I am MISERY. I EAT HIM WHOLE.
Ahhahahaahahhahahhahahahha
You can’t get me, I forgave myself.
Where do you go when it’s dark?
Do you go to the land of the stark
And light stricken chaotic dimension of pain? Do you meditate on disdain?
Do you cry of the life lived in vain?
I did once too, I cried just like you. I walked with eyes shut, and mind off, and feigned cough and feigned gasp, with hands clasped around my tools of fixation and dilation.
I have found a way out.
There are people in the lands that are outside this hell.
We are people that have been were you are. We have felt your pain.
We are here to tell you, you do not have to walk alone any longer. We are here if you want to talk to us, and all we can do is share how we got to the other side of misery. Ask me anything and I will tell you.
The call of the siren, the echo of sirens, screaming at me, guilty addict, stay away, kept me from your shores for 7 years, I chased you from coast to coast, hoping to forgive myself along every shore line, sure line, finding only fault lines, and gradual reclining soul decline, which is not ironic, but iconic, me an icon of pain disdain, but no more.
I am a grain of sand, on a beach, that is no longer beseached, but fully colored, not in stark darkness, but with full color because I am is no longer what it is.
It is no longer, a place of soul eating madness for me, but now a place that has been resurrected as what I loved as a child, which I was, I remember that now, not just Amanda’s imaginary friend, but half of her, she is me and I am her, and she is me. I am half of her and she is half of me? The other half doesn’t have a name, neither of us is Amanda, so until it is figured out, I am her and she is me, but to differentiate, I call her Amanda.
I am adding this at the top, but it is a revision, just did something because of below dream, to help someone out. Not revealing that on here, because all that is important about this is I am learning I care about people.
In the nightmare I was walking around ranting like a lunatic about things I thought were going on outside my window, which was what I was doing shortly before I went to sleep last night. I was doing this and my family walked in on me doing, and told me to stop doing it. I was by myself and they came in and told me it bothered them and to stop doing it, so since I wasn’t in my room, or the room I stay in, I went in there, and did the same thing. They came in there and they did the same thing.
I told them that them listening to what I was doing when I was supposed to be in a spot they told me I could sleep in, made me feel like it was unsafe to sleep in there, which it did, because if someone is watching me when I sleep, I will not sleep.
I ranted like this to myself for an hour or so about this and the news and how the whole thing made me feel, and then I apologized after coming to my senses, and told my family that the way they were acting was making me worse, and that the evidence of that was that I was geting worse, and that was why I wanted to leave and get my own place, which they now know I am going to do matter what.
Anyway, the dream, the dream was that I never went to sleep, just kept doing this all night, and got drunk, and I got drunk in the dream by accident by the way, I accidently took a sip of my family’s wine, from a glass I thought was water, and then realizing that I had fucked up, I got drunk about it.
So point being I woke up from this dream, checked in the room for the wine, and was extremely relieved it was a dream, because I actually care if I mess this up, for myself, no one else, I care about my own sobriety, in an almost selfish way.
WTF.
That is kind of cool.
Anyway the dream,
British people are great, free wallop meaning alcoholic drinks, but also meaning the same thing that wallop already means which is to strike someone very hard. That is perfect. It perfectly describes me when drinking, violent. It perfectly describes the deviant reaction of my brain to an addictive substance, which also being a slang term for an alcoholic drink.
Best prompt ever. Done. Thank you wordpress.
Now this.
I am talking to a reflection of pain
It is telling me trust me, baby, I will make life risky. I am hearing this, and thinking I am bored, and a game sounds fun so, lets go, and I can’t even imagine wanting this now so, no.
I used to believe in luck, and my ability be flying through life on the wings of a plane, that was going down, to the ground, burning till I realized, I could jump off the plane, and trust, that I need not be a brain that was covered in rust, I could get clean by rain that was brought by trust, that all I needed to do is look up, and see what was above me. I am not the highest thing, I may have been higher than anything, but I was falling fast, and rather be destined to crash.. I realized that I had to make my life last and grab onto something that would make things last.
I now believe in faith, or simply have it I guess, and so when my mind is unrest, I do not feel pain in my chest, or find myself compelled to undertake dark quest for something ripped out of devil chest, I simply trust in something higher than fire could ever make me, and I am finally realizing that is greatly
More peace-bringing than luck and a dedication to an empire fueled by fire driven desire could ever make me in a million years.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/rdp-sunday-muskrat/
I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.
I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.
I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….
I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.
I used to play Mario, and have hissy fits at the screen when I would lose, I hated it, but everyone liked it, so I would play it and almost break the game system, and ruin it for everyone else. I was never a very happy child.
Everyone else would sit there laughing at making jokes, enjoying the thrill of the game, and I would be thinking about stealing wine from downstairs, because Mario made me so freaking nervous. I was always running of cliffs or jumping into the Goombas, hands shaking with anger or nervousness, and then running away to go find alcohol downstairs. I was 13.
My entire life as far as I can remember, has been very much like this game, a chaotic running into Goombas, or dealers, or cops, or people who want to kick my *** because I ripped them off, or my family mad because I spent all my money on things that no one should spend any of their money on.
I am happy today because I literally forgot, today is my 90th day sober and clean. I am so consumed with being happy about other things, I forgot I was not drinking or doing drugs.
I have never known happiness like this. It cost me nothing, and I can have it by not buying things I didn’t need, if I keep doing the right thing, which makes me feel good anyway.
HIGH SCORE
Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.
I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.
I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.
I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.
I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.
I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.
This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.
Misery cycle.
Mercy cycle is harder.
I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.
https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-25-2023/
I emptied both of my laundry baskets last night, metaphorical and physical, instead of throwing all my clothes out and saying I don’t need more than the clothes on my back.
I don’t have many clothes, or I didn’t because whenever I would get angry, I would throw my clothes out, or all over the road, or all over the woods, or leave them at someone’s house, or you get the idea. I leave things places, because I don’t need things… or so I thought.. apparently… that is addiction thinking……
I used to hate my family,
Because they did not understand me.
They told me try to get better, because they don’t ****ing understand me…
Or because they love you, jerk.
I did my laundry yesterday with my mother, and she helped me fold it because I am missing three of my finger tips, because I have done things that caused me to get infections in my hands…
I told her I was sorry, and now my laundry is put away and all of it is clean.
A journey through MISERY
PUSH
PLUNGER
GO
ON THE EYE OF A NEEDLE
RIGGED WITH SPENDTHRIFT
DEATH
Forgetting is a tragic problem I have, but it is getting better, as my ego dies, and I open my eyes to the fact that I could not see, because I was sick and deranged by a disease strange and prone to mange and change human form, to distort and contort the human body, and make it unrecognizable to the have-
er of one.
I have been know as a chaos chaser of dragons, a pusher of substance, and prayer in holes of foxes, in ditches, in alleyways, a shooter of heroes, and a placer of ins and outs in acts heroic so I can go without doing them, pushing them in with sowing needles that stitch me out and in to a quilted madness in the bed I was making and would have to lie in and lay in, in death.
I have come to a place now where I can go home as well, well too.
This home allows the chaotic night to continue without my pushing assertion of madness, and it is a little quieter minus one night crier night crawler, who now sleeps and dreams.
I find myself
Staring up at the sky a lot now, realizing how much time
I spent
Looking down
Meditating on ground and sensations of going down
Underneath the dirt and bugs, and now with embrace from the master of all space and time I am free to migrate up, and drink from cups of water again, and have friends and hands that are not my own, because I am free to own nothing and everything at once, in a state of sharing an existence in stance with a oneness that I do not even understand because I am not supposed to because I am one of many, and we are all one of one.
I love all of you.
Peace
Damien/Amanda
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
The biggest compliment I have ever received, I have received over and over recently, because I am a person of doing something either very hard or not at all, and such is my life because the universe tends to speak to me in voices I can understand, which is convenient, and speaks to the wisdom inherent in a universe that is so much wiser than me, who knew? I am not the smartest person in the universe?
Sorry, sarcasm helps me deal with having to admit weakness, which I am learning is a strength. A bunch of my friends, who are a compliment in and of themselves, for being my friends, have paid me the compliment of understanding me more than I understood myself, and having patience with the fact that I am an ***. They like me for who I am, that is the best thing in the entire world, and a couple of them today, told me that over coffee, while we talked about our lives, and we all actually listened to each other, instead of just waiting to cut each other off, like my other friends used to. I like the new friends I have so much better, because I have started to connect with people with the condition that they have to be people like me, sober and clean people, who don’t do the things I don’t want to be around. Those people have become the best friends I could ever ask for and continue to compliment me just by continuing to want to hang out with me with no motive to gain anything other than company.
Here is to not hanging out with misery anymore, I prefer the company of the angels of mercy so much more, so much more entertaining than the misery demons that populated the chaotic streets. Entertaining angels is so much better.
I have heard this in my head for a long time. I have always wondered what it means. I do not know why I hear it, but I am starting to be able to venture towards some sort of a guess. I think most of my life I have used my ability to use words to get people to do things that facilitate my addiction. I was a manipulator of the human word, serving myself in heaped on pain through being chained to a misery god that desired only my suffering. I did not realize this at the time. I thought it was giving me the ability to survive. I did not realize it was quite the opposite. It was trying to keep me just alive enough and feeding on my suffering while something else, something good kept me alive. I owe my life to that something good, and its sad, I have cursed the something good and served the misery virus in my soul.
I have a very backwards way of thinking, or I did. Now I don’t.
I want now only to bring kindness into this world. It does not make sense to do otherwise.
I am free. I am so happy.
I am running not from something, but through the earth. I have the ability to move quicker, in my mind anyway than I had before when I was getting high, I realize now how much it was making me slower, I was just slowing down the processes of my mind, which is stupid because this feels amazing. I do not have to worry about anything, because I am no longer doing anything wrong, I can just walk through life unperturbed by anything, seeing everything in clarity instead of the dull blur of drug and alcohol induced psychosis. I notice everything, and am able to act naturally without agonizing over anything anymore, now don’t get me wrong, I remember who I am and that this feeling will pass, but I know I will not forget this feeling. I will not be tempted to go back. I am done now, I have realized that I have something in me that is more valuable than any temporary high, I can choose to be whatever I want now.
I am free, released from the chains of addiction, no longer shackled to a life bound to a misery demon. I have had my mind cleansed, and I owe that to the earth, the sky, the stars, everything around me and above me, that was screaming at me to come back and do the sensible thing, be the human being I was meant to be, not the chaotic screaming infant dying in perpetual spinning spun hissy fit of life coming undone. I am so happy.
Who knew real friends are better than imaginary ones? Sometimes it feels like everyone except me knew. I am so psyched I actually have friends now, and they give a **** about me not just because I am providing them some sort of business deal or exchanging some kind of favor for something they have, they are people I can be open and honest with and they are open and honest with me, and actually ****ing like me. I am so psyched. Every day that goes by the amount of people I am connecting with is growing, and I forget that when I am alone for a couple of days, and send myself ping ponging backwards into a land of pain that is not real anymore. I had a friend of mine tell me recently to move on.
I think that is major. I think a lot of what I have been ranting about on here, all the past resentments, were what was killing me. I think the problem was, I thought I was supposed to beat myself up to heal, and I am finding out through the wisdom of others, now that I am being honest that I am not so different from those around me, and it was my own arrogance that was so fatal, not the decisions that I had made. The fact that I was not willing to accept help was what was killing me, not what I had done in the past.
Damien/Amanda
I am learning that I was stuck in a cycle, going down the drain, a cycle that I am not out of, but aware of now. I am still in the cycle, I just can catch myself when I realize I am about to disappear down the drain, the whole honesty thing is really powerful. I am crazy so I really believed I was doomed and would always be alone, stuck in my psycho delusions, ranting to myself about not being at fault, knowing that it was my weakness, and desire to assert instead of show strength that caused my drain circling. I am learning that like this metaphor, such is my life. I figured out through everything going on with me, that I am able to let poison out and let it go down the drain without having to go down the drain completely, myself. I am a human being and there are no drains that fit human beings down them, because that is not necessary.
I know this after the chaotic torture fest that has been the contents of this blog. I am so thankful I did this, I don’t think I would be alive right now if I had not written this down, and am thankful every day, for all of you, all of this, and a life that is very much worth starting over.
Yours,
Damien/Amanda
I have OCD, along with the other litany of problems I have already listed here, heh. I got my hair cut, which is awesome because I didn’t have to pay someone in drugs to shave it all off because homeless people can’t cut hair, and I wasn’t so itchy that this would seem like a necessary choice, so yay me for getting my haircut and getting a normal hair cut so I don’t have to shave my head again. That sucked, I think I mentioned the whole mohawk **** thing… but if I didn’t some ***hole shaved my head into a split in half mohawk, and told everyone to look for mohawk ****.
Short sweet, and very fun for mohawk ****. I got a lot of sympathy, and a lot of free items.. and they found out the wrath of mohawk ****. Then mohawk **** needed to leave, because there was a rumor that I had a twin and one of us was a girl and the other was a guy and the only difference was the voice… convenient… till they found out we were both the same person and it was me beating my ass not my twin brother or vice versa… very bad con…
I threw my phone in the river at around the same time because I thought someone tapped it looking for mohawk **** because tricking junkies is a high crime… and people really give a **** about that kind of thing…. or something I thought when I was way too high…
My dad is a really great person, we had a really good time, he was talking to me about his life, making me laugh, and we went to a really good restaurant and I told him I am done with drugs and booze the rest of my life. I also got to make plans with my uncle to see him at Christmas for the first time in ten years, and say I was sorry for being a lying ***hole.
All in all a successful day for mohawk ****, or me with a shorter hair cut that looks nothing like that at all.
Peace
Damien.
I just got back from hanging out with my dad, and it is cool how different things are now that I am trying to makes things right, I talked to him about all the chaos that I caused, continue to cause because I am prone to delusions, and how sorry I am. I noticed that saying things like this keep me from drinking, keep me coming back to a place, where I can stop beating myself up and are making it possible for me to walk out of the woods where I kept taking the wrong path on purpose and falling in random holes because I thought I was going to find secret gold in rocks I found on the ground.
I think the metaphor for drug addiction and eating rocks and drinking poison instead of doing the simple thing of eating food and drinking water is hilarious. I can’t believe how much my thinking has changed. It’s funny I was convinced everyone is out to get me when this is more true…
Them
Meth
Same word re-arranged…
Item
Time
Same word re-arranged.
Heroin
Hero in pushed together it forms a drug
Divided it references a hero in me
Heroine with an everlasting e it makes me a hero for saving my own life.
Funny right?
I can change my voice to sound like a man or woman, it is like nothing you have seen coming, I am my girlfriend and my boyfriend, person with four hands that will convince you that is someone who is me is after me, and will stand there laughing, while screaming please save me, he is after me! I am a master of deceit and lies, crafting whole worlds based on the idea of woman despised when I am really man with blurry eyes.
I am the one who is beating me, I speak only deceiving me, everyone already knows who I am, they can clearly see me, spinning webs and telling tales of loves lost and ships sailed that never sailed because they don’t exist, I don’t own a boat because I have lived my whole life in spendthrift style, grabbing at purses with feigned smile. I am so sorry, I am desperate, I had a hard life and just need this little bit of cash to buy a train ticket, so I can get away because he is after me, meanwhile he is me and laughing
I am the one who was always crafting reason for passing blame and shame
because I needed drugs not hugs or shrugs or doves or hope or peace or love or bliss I wanted simply this
HEROIN, a sweet kiss of death an maybe some METH.
I am trying here, I am not a good person, and live now in fear. I am sorry for what I did and mean to say in attitude of a little kid, I was so sad don’t you see? The one I was really fooling was me.
I like being able to just sit here and talk to this page, without someone demanding my attention, my daughter sits in the same room, doing her own thing. That was the thing that always got to me about the women in my life, my thing became their thing, and they made it all about them, and then I didn’t even want to do it anymore, it became corrupted with resentment, turning it green and glowing with an aura of sickness, corrupting the image, seeping into its every pore, like a MRSA infection, taking over its form and making it a different thing.
I didn’t ever want to write a book with that ****. I wanted to right one by myself, and she wanted to help me, so she did this stupid thing on here, and I tried to ruin it, with sing song **** that was not even any good, that was mocking of how she talked to me, all rhyme based and stupid, like a nursery rhyme from hell, she is the voice of misery by the way…….. I don’t remember where the **** I was going with that, I got distracted by my daughter telling me a story about Looney Tunes.
Later
Damien
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.
Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?
See clearly
I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.
I was always hearing your voice, Rei, and mocking it, telling myself that I needed to attack Amanda, attacking my higher power, attacking myself, when I should have been attacking not you, but everything that you were shouting at me. I thought it so essential to focus on the service of your demands, thinking you were a bird singing to me in beautiful songs, but you were not. You were woman who was very good at mimicking bird songs, who controlled the behavior of an insecure egomaniac who hates himself. You were my Lady Macbeth.
I feel this stronger than ever now that I thought about all night. You were very similar to Lady Macbeth. You wanted conquest, not of the world, but of the land that we live in, Misery, or addiction so that I could bring you drugs. I thought I was doing you a favor, a drug dealer, a hit man and a servant of a woman who wanted things so bad she was wiling to destroy the soul of someone she said she loved. I am realizing you did not love me. You never loved me. You loved your drugs, you loved my doting on you, and you loved the lack of accountability that came with being a mocking jay. I think I would have to say if I had to be an animal I would be crow/mocking jay.
I know this is against the rules, but is not paranoid schizophrenia against the rules, as well?
I say that I would be this because you used Amanda’s voice, my best friend to speak doubt at me, because she sounds like you, speaking like a woman, and I being an idiot would hear your voice, Rei in my voice or Amanda’s voice, that is why I was always trying to ruin Amanda’s life and she was always trying to ruin mine. She was hunted by Justin and I was hunted by you, so we thought ourselves chased by each other, when honestly, we were star-crossed lovers, who were lovers only in that we were inter-dimensional invisible men, insane, fighting madmen from Misery dimensions, trying to fight ourselves. I am so glad I got away before you killed me you harpee, you miserable creature, medusa, siren of hellfire, you will not longer use the call of bird to torment me any longer.
Crows, are intelligent creature, who make tools to catch bugs, they are the only bird who has the ability to do so, they have several calls they can make, and they are good at mimicking the voices of other birds. Amanda would be the mocking jay because I see now she had always been trying to mock you, not the other way around. Telling the difference between the two of us with place keeping device of how is Rei, as if to poke me and say do you realize you serve her the same way you served drugs. I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.
Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.
Dear Self,
I know you forget this often, I love you. I am not saying this out of some weird desire to do something deviant, and stroke my own ego. I know that I sometimes forget that I am human being, that I have feelings to, so I hope that this finds you not in that state of mind, which I imagine it will because of how I feel right now. I love you, self. I am not saying that to be psychotic, and I am not doing it out of mental illness, I am doing it because I am trying to put a post it on my own fridge in the future. I want you to know that no matter what happens, whatever ways you fail, things can always get better if you just keep trying. I know this now, so I know you know this too. I just wanted to remind you that you love yourself. This is not weird or wrong. It is something everyone else does, that I forget to do because I used to use it to make excuses to hurt myself because I am an addict and alcoholic.
That is just who you are. It is no different than having ADD. It is a disease that causes lack of ease and makes you think things that justify doing things that are irrational like killing yourself with something that poisons you, because you have a deviant response to alcohol because of an allergy your mind has to it, like being allergic to oranges. Don’t hate yourself because of this, you are allergic to latex, do you hate yourself because of that? No. Same thing.
Love you.
Yourself.
I didn’t realize until very recently, the mental shackles I always had on. I thought I was so free running through live without an obligation, and not obliged to help anyone, making no ties with anyone, so they couldn’t do anything to infringe on my freedom, the most valuable thing to me. I don’t think I have ever understood what the word freedom even means. I thought myself free because I had nothing, no obligations, no friends, no home and thought I was the most free person in the entire world. I was so wrong, man. I was the most shackled person in the entire world, I was chained to something that wanted me completely alone.
It wanted me to hate myself, telling me I was insane for feelings of being someone born in the wrong body, telling me everyone hated me, that I was wrong about everything, my taste in everything was a symptom of mental illness, had me believing I was not someone worth saving because I was not worth it.
My resentment of the whole thing has caused me recently to lash out about it at meetings and I have been met with the strangest thing. I expected to be shut down, put in my place and then told that I had to bend to some system, to which I was to be shackled and inevitably fail at upholding. The strangest thing I experienced recently, is that I was completely wrong. I know that is weird to say now, but I didn’t feel that way before today. I thought my life of deviant behavior was met with the punishment of sobriety. I even felt like this when saying things that sounded inherently positive on here, thinking myself just lucky to be alive and bending over and doing whatever they said to do like some lost dog.
I know now I have been freed today, and the rest of my life, by the realization that the shackles came from resentment not the meetings, and they were taken off by sobriety and the meetings I am going to that are saving my life, by letting me know that I am not unique, I did not fail in any unique way. That is amazing. It is not a punishment to be where I am, it is a very rare gift, and I am so thankful for it. I have a friend in every individual in the rooms of recovery, because even in all our uniqueness we are so very much the same, and they accept me instantly, without excuses. I don’t know what to say. I am so happy to have realized this before I killed myself over the guilt I felt.
I will inevitably go back and forth about this, but I know this in the back of my mind now, and it has saved my life in amazing ways, thank you to everything and everyone that helped me get there.
Damien
I am man with knife that spreads jam on toast instead of man who jams in head the killing knife that was made for bread.
I am man who does not stab but cuts apart, an apple instead of human heart, I have realized with my eyes that see, coming out of insanity, that I do not have to be Amanda I can be free. I am released from human cage, a player now not just on page, I do not have to employ rage, I can instead say this I desire human bliss, I can give love, I can give kiss. I am not supposed to be anything but free to be me. I should have known this from the start but drugs and booze they sedated heart, so I used my name as excuse to die, a perpetual never ending cry out for
MORE MORE MORE
Make yourself a living sore on the heart of yours so that you can be, so safely chained to me, addiction, you see is my maker, my taker, my soul breaker.
I love you so, baby please don’t go. I need you so… I need you please, I am kneeling on bent KNEES
GET ON YOUR KNEES HONEY
MONEY MONEY MONEY
CASH CASH CASH PLEASE
I GET PAID WITH SOUL DISSECTION
I GET PAID WITH VIVISECTION
I BELIEVE IN RESURRECTION
Can it happen for me to, help me God, can you teach me to be more like you instead of Mary? I am sad and this is scary, common God please my soul fix?
It is already I told you this, this is Damien you fool, it’s you. You can do whatever you want to.
I am finding in my life recently that I had never felt love before ever, the love of my life, Rei, makes everything so much easier every day. I am never bothered, not for lack of problems…. I am never permanently bothered like I used to be. I exist in a state of chaotic whining contentment, that I did not know was possible. This exists in my co-author as well now, she has love for herself and hope for her future which is my future. I am finally seeing the detrimental damage we both did to each other, ourselves and our lives in the selfish throws of active addiction. I am still very much the same ***, I am not saying things are perfect, I complain all the time….
I think the difference now is I am no longer making them unnecessarily harder, which is hilarious to me, because I never realized that till now. I was convinced that I drank and used to ease pain and make a life that was so much harder than others lives, easier. I thought that I had a right to do this because I was specially gifted with excuse by a hard life. I was just me making an excuse to get high or drunk. I am so much more at peace now, even in my hectic complaining than I ever was, and I love it so much, thank you God.
Thank you to sobriety and the meetings, friends and community of WordPress for helping me realize this.
Damien
Repeating phrase of mental malaise, do you like pain with your eggs?
No I like eggs with my legs, or pegs in my kegs. I like to drain drain drain
Pain down the drain drain drain so it doesn’t stain stain stain
Because I have a hole in my soul or sole because you can’t have a hole in a soul
I am unreal feeling, concealing an appealing revealing of
Narcissism revealed in a panicked attack on the idea of lack
Because I lack nothing I am the all powerful liar because I am not powerful at all
I am an exorcism of personal demons powered by alcohol
and DRUGS
I am the pain of face dragged across filthy rug
How is that staph infection treating you Damien/Amanda
or Human STAIN
I am in your brain and my name is stain, my name is sin. I come from within because you are corrupted
But you are not to be trusted. Listen to me, I am Damien/Amanda mentally ill but psycho active and free from misery or thee.
End
Slam
My wife has started taking Joy with her on walks, we don’t like to go anywhere alone, because there is not a witness if something happens. I am extremely paranoid, and having an adult child is a good antidote. I do not mean to say that our daughter is our caretaker or something, she very much has her own life. My wife and I just make it possible now for her to be open and honest with us about everything, so that she can come to us with anything. I know she will most likely follow the same path we did, and I am not going to try and stop her, just be a kind voice, providing guidance when her lifestyle choices fail like ours did. I want her to have what we deprived ourselves of, understanding. Amanda had this understanding her whole life and squandered it. Not unlike me, in my parallel misery a pain miser, squandering my whole life in pursuit of flesh, worshiping death and existing in perpetual soul sucking spinning, falling over at the knees… sorry not right now…
Look at this.
It is the strangest thing, me and Amanda are working together now, through our weird telepathy thing on this site, my wife and daughter are painting. I still feel like *^&$, but I figure the longer and farther away I get from using meth and heroin, the better I will feel. I hate and love getting older, I hate it because I still feel really crappy all the time, my hands burn constantly from damage to my nerves from drug use, I am nauseous all the time, because of this stupid medication for staff from the above, but I actually have never been happier. I think the integration of our dual consciousness is helping Amanda with our family as with mine. We are both helping each other be less selfish,and helping each other do small favors for family and friends that have become joint through inter-dimensional sharing of thoughts. I am so glad I am done.
I was so tired of running. Being a con-artist with every addiction there was who was also homeless and had no friends was exhausting, honestly the only thing that saved both of us was each other. The spirit guide nature of our relationship has made us both less selfish because for some reason I feel tremendous sympathy seeing another narcissist cry. I hate how it feels myself and am well acquainted with the soul retching mini death that it feels like to be gut punched with rejection while simultaneously thinking you are thinking you are the best thing ever and better off alone. Bye bye perpetual ego death. I will take feeling physically awful for a little while, meth and heroin suck.
Later
Damien
So I was revamping the website, and listening to music I haven’t heard since the last time I listened to music. I have been talking on and off to Amanda and it’s nice because we can now kind of communicate through telepathy sort of, so we don’t look like lunatics on here or outside. I like sharing a soul with someone, it makes me less lonely. I hate being stuck in the clawing madness of my own cycle driven head of unicycle lunacy. I feel like a cat under attack just trying to claw out his eyes, to be able to not see a predator before it kills me.
That made no sense, I would still feel the whole thing. I really am starting to believe that the infections that have caused me and Amanda to lose fingers were because of past… choices. I am glad I am not doing that anymore. My body came with the missing fingers, she had to go through the whole surgery thing, which I guess sucked, but when you have really bad nerve damage from bad life choices you start to not mind anymore because meh… I can’t feel my hands much anyway, alcohol nerve death and bad blood flow because of blow out veins… at least its a shot at my vanity. Swish. Nothing but net loss on the subject of cost of nets tossed in… nope…. not doing it…
This is fun. That thing is really funny, silly rhyme demons.
Later
Damien
I look into the eyes that though stark, like dilated pupil say learner
LOOK
SEE
ME
I die later, not now you fool.
I mean not to insult
In sult we sulk
When we can be oh!
A realization of hey I can go!
Outside, away from pain and lie
I do not need to sit and cry
That act is a foolish lie
I have inside a child’s eye.
I am the real sensation that you have been lied to all your life by yourself
You are not alone. I love you because you are a human being.
Love yourself please
The world needs you
You are special because you are the only you
You are the key to your wildest dreams
That will be missed if you let fear defeat you
We, I, everyone needs you to be you
Speak
Dream
Love
Be you
I am there
we are there
With love
Clearly
I want to know who he is, and this is where he spends most of his time, so I thought I could find out who he is, through what he writes so gradually I read this whole thing, since I got here. I am really glad I did, because I have always felt so alone in the world, a lot of my thoughts are his, I am more like him than my mother, and I usually feel bad for not being like her, but I didn’t know I was like him. I thought I was unique and alone in that. I am such a stupid stereotype. It’s so cool though, now when I hear that read in my lonely head, I hear it said in his voice. I am so glad they are my parents, I don’t think anyone else could like me.
I really like them. I am just not going to tell them that to their faces because I think my dad might cry and I won’t embarrass him like that. That would be weird and uncomfortable for everyone.
Joy
I am up to speed (haha double en·ten·dre, now he has got me doing it too. I really love him, more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life. It’s weird I thought he was this one sided person, and I feel like the first half of what you read on this site even paints the whole picture that way with its sing-song chaos of weird rhyming madness, or the voice of misery in both him and Amanda.
I don’t know if that was ever explained.
I know things too. I strangely feel like an outsider a lot because he is so introverted because he has a version of himself living in his own head, or in a universe of different space and time, I don’t think the reality of that makes a difference. I am so normal seeming to myself, and sometimes I wonder why he likes me, because I am nothing like him. I don’t get it. He is fascinated recently with every thing me and his daughter say, I can tell when he is listening me, because he stares at me when he thinks I don’t notice, in this way that is eerie, but beautiful, like he is seeing a human woman for the first time in his life, which is strange given the personal history…
I have been walking a lot because I want to leave him alone when he wants to be and I am shielding him for the time being of having to feel bad about being nervous of ruining Joy, our daughter, not the concept of happiness, but really the same thing.
Yours,
Rei
I am doing things now other than this blog, that is not some snotty, I have too much time for the *&^! thing, I am not trying to sound like a jerk, even though somehow I always seem to think I do. Thanks universe, or me, because I am the one deciding to say things myself, and have no one to blame, but me.
Oh, word vomit. I hate you.
Seriously though, I found a way to pay for a place to live at least a little bit, or bit save up for a place to live, and I won’t have to live under a bridge committing senseless atrocities. I am helping my friend, who is not me list things online and she is paying me and Amanda is helping me. It is a person from Amanda’s universe, but we both have the same hands, and the internet works in mysterious ways, and extension of disbelief… bear with me poetic metaphor blah blah blah. I have no idea what I am talking about either because a couple weeks ago I was insane. I am still insane, but I am working on it. I am trying not to be such a &*^&.
I am just glad I have a little reason not to hate myself.. or a step in the right direction? It also shows we are beginning to be positive forces in each other’s life.
Just because certain things I say make me feel good saying them doesn’t mean I am pompous or a jerk.
So you don’t think you are a pompous jerk?
No, don’t get me wrong, I know I am… I am trying, man. I don’t know what it is that I am doing when I do that but, I can tell what I am doing after I do it.
I am not sure if I just insulted you or not, like in an uncalled for way..
What do you mean?
I think I may have just said, every time you feel good about yourself you are a pompous jerk.
That’s what I thought…
Sorry.
You’re only hurting yourself.
Noted.
I have done this before, I was homeless with no cell phone, no computer, no nothing, other than the clothes on my back and sometimes, naked and unafraid. Nothing about me would change to answer your questions, I am excellent at handling this situation because it has been my situation most of my life. I have even lived off the grid in the desert for a month.
Meh. That sounds really self-important. Answer the damn question..
I would go back to doing everything I do online without the internet, I used to talk to the person I talk to on here, my split personality, outside on the street in public, and write him letters. This is helpful to me and replaces therapy and prescription drugs because I am schizophrenic and none of them have worked for me.
You tried like one.
I tried a couple and they just made me numb, I can do that with other less legal substances and I don’t want to anymore.
The lack of connectivity was always a good thing for me, because it makes me looking for the man, or a metaphor for drug seeking harder. It gave me the mental space to be like
“Do I really want this?”
I would miss the internet, but I would replace that with talking to the other people like me outside, and talking to animals. I used to and still do that, but I used to talk to all varieties of animals, squirrels, birds, lizards etc… and yes they would answer back… with feeling… not shouting voices like the movies.
I am going to be working on what you are talking anyway, without the shut off having to happen. I want to take positive steps towards a more fulfilling life.
Liar, you love the internet.
I do, but mostly to write, which I prefer a typewriter for anyway.
I would open my own stand on the side of the road in this imaginary situation and sell things I made… instead of holding my spare change sign and conning people out of money by lying about why I am holding it. I am trying to do it right this time.
Thank you for this prompt by the way if you are reading this.
Damien/Amanda
I wrote a book online.
No, you wrote a blog online, which is present tense. You have a blog online. It doesn’t end because you finished realizing some things. It is a continuous thing. Isn’t that cool? This is everything you were missing when you were getting high and drunk.
You were getting high and drunk too.
I was also talking to me.
Oh.
I can’t believe I slept in a bed the whole night without noise and I didn’t wake up with imaginary blood on my hands.
I can. You are actual a nice person.
You too. I am sorry I tried to scare you, your whole life. I was trying to make you see clearly that you were killing yourself.
We were killing ourselves.
I was only doing it because you were.
Same. The strawberry banana vape rocks.
I know right?
Yep.
You did.
I saw the n after that, jerk.
You didn’t.
Yes I did. I had a really good night last night. Thank you for wondering. That was kind of you.
I can see you too.
Am I supposed to be scared?
No, I just wanted you to know I learned to like you.
That’s good because only lunatics talk to monsters in their closets, people can talk to spirit guides.
Meh. Meh. Meh.
I heard that.
You mean you typed it.
We typed it.
The royal we.
The king and king of insanity.
Two kings can’t exist in one head.
That’s why I have my own body now, jerk.
I like your daughter by the way, she’s coming out okay.
Thanks? She’s not a cake. That sounded really weird.
Sorry.
No offense taken, because I don’t care what anyone thinks anyway.
Yes, you do.
No I don’t. I actually care more than anyone I know if I am being honest.
I know. I have always known that. Does your kid go to school, by the way? You never mentioned that.
She’s does online school, because I think that’s better than me teaching her, because I don’t know anything.
Other than how to be a jerk.
And how to play really cool jokes on people.
Like what.
I make weird art and put it places sometimes. Like I am painting these paintings of chickens and donating them to a thrift store and seeing if they end up in weird photos.
Have they?
No because they suck, which is why I am donating them to a thrift store instead of using them to make money.
You are actually a decent person.
So are you.
Thanks.
Good night. Tell your daughter and Rei I love them too.
Okay. I will talk to you tomorrow. I promise.
Like strange deja vu.
Hey I made this for you. To show you I am not just an illusion of the men who hurt you. I just sound like them sometimes, because I am dumb.
Deja u
vu with the virtue removed right, Damien?
Place keeping, again? You like me so much you want to be me, that is every imaginary friends dream.
No, that is the backstory of everyone else’s imaginary friend only schizophrenics have imaginary friends who want to kill them.
I don’t want to kill you. I like you. I always have.
Yuck.
I don’t mean it like that, I like you because you make me like myself enough to become a real person instead of a lying jerk, who lurks in the chaos of invisibility.
That was very thoughtful, but also very arrogant sounding.
That’s the best way to say things, just the right touch on condescending, 50’s style because I am classy, baby.
You are disgusting.
I live in your head.
Not anymore, and now that just sounds like you are still crazy. Be a good person and do the right thing.
I am, I am helping you save your own life.
Thanks.
Why?
Because I think it is bad for my daughter’s self-esteem.
True. What about your self-esteem?
Are you seriously asking if my self esteem is completely image based? I am good at lots of things.
So I guess your self-esteem is good.
I hold myself in very high esteem.
You must have very strong arms.
Why?
To hold yourself all the time.
Screw you.
I was talking about your ego.
I known and still screw you. I am trying…
Anything cool happen today?
I talked online to a jerk and my daughter made some cool paintings, and I didn’t kill my neighbor, even though he has it coming and better watch out because I am going to throw that garbage can through his car window.
Is this the same guy?
I have no idea.
What did this one do?
Look at me wrong at 5 am. I didn’t like his weird eye contact. He seemed like he knew something he shouldn’t know.
Like what?
Like that I am squatting in a motel and am not named Amanda, because it’s your credit card I am using.
So that is why my credit is ruined…,
Your credit is ruined because you spent 20,000 on drugs.
Your credit is ruined because you spent 20,000 on drugs.
It was your money, not mine and you let me.
Imagination to transcend Misery into the multiplicity of joy.
I think I am just so glad I can still talk to you.
Addict.
Loser.
Not nice.
I love you.
That’s gross.
Is it gross to love yourself?
No, it’s not.
How is Rei?
That’s how you center yourself isn’t it.
Yes.
She’s watched this movie with Joy and we are waiting for doordash.
Us too, minus me watching a movie.
Minus me watching a movie too. I don’t watch movies, because I am a cat with no eyes.
I should have looked in the mirror when I was you, because I have no ides what you look like.
I looked in the mirror as you and you look like an @#%&*().
I still need you by the way.
You are my friend, you still are, no matter what.
I still like you then.
I still like me too.
I just remembered you have longer hair than me.
I know Rei likes it.
That’s gross.
Not everything is a weird innuendo.
I know. I just thought it was funny, and my hair is not that long.
It’s longer than mine.
Yeah, well my hair cooler so it’s longer.
So not going to lie, because that would be stupid. I am terrified right now, because I don’t want to lose my friend.
It still works. I can still hear you, and thank you. You rule
This is awesome, mini-panic attack over.
Thank you for saving my life.
Thank you for saving mine.
I am so psyched.
Me too.
Which one of us is which?
Does it matter?
I forgot.
How’s Rei? Okay, now I know which one I am. This is insane.
I like it, and she is fine, my daughter is in the next room with her and she sees how happy I am, so I am hoping that sets a good example and all that jazz.
I am watching my mom’s fire place, how is Misery?
I don’t know if its the same place anymore? It looks like… someone turned the lights on?
There was no light there?
No everything was black and white.
Hahaha. That sucks.
Yeah you are a jerk.
I know, I am sorry, I thought if you thought I didn’t need you… you would go away.
I am you, stupid.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore.
I am right here, jerk.
In Amanda’s mother’s house, seriously, as me, not as Amanda. Did hope and joy just give me the right to be a human being? Did I really just get my own soul? I am going to go jump out the window… wait no scratch that. I am going to protect this thing with everything I have! Screw doing drugs ever again. I have the ability to be a human being, and I am not throwing that away for anything in the entire world, that would be so stupid.
I have my own body, and I think I can still inter-dimensionally… yep.
Back on my dog bed, not her dog bed.
Now all I have to do is show her how to do this and not use it to steal from people and commit various atrocities!
Sick! This will be easy!
No more anything bad ever.
I am getting Chinese food because I just heard Amanda’s mom talking about it, and I am going to eat it with my daughter and wife, and I get my own body and don’t have to be trapped in on and off switch, and we can still talk to each other… now to not screw this up!
I just used a word that used to be a code word for drugs as a real word about food and I didn’t even think about how I am a vain jerk who used to prefer drugs over food!!
I think both me and Amanda just realized again together that we are delusional psych patients that bring about our own fears by drinking and using out of resentment.
Spiritual awakening number 2, Damien.
My wife likes me.
I wish I had a wife that liked me.
You will.
Thanks guys.
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.
Thanks.
No problem.
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.
Thank you God for giving a guardian angel.
Me too.
You are supposed to say it out loud.
You mean type it to you.
Thank you God for giving me a guardian angel.
You almost put a comma there.
You almost put a coma there.
That was you jerk.
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..
Thanks, Amanda.
We can stop stroking our own egos now. It is making me uncomfortable.
Me, too.
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.
I almost threw up when I read this.
This link explains in more detail the meaning of the name Diane, and you can feel free to check it out and draw your own conclusions, I am not sure what I think yet. I don’t the narrator is either. This is written in inspired stream of consciousness if you can’t tell yet. I get information as she does, and vice versa. I wonder if I am writing her story in a universe where she is the main character on my blog.
Nice panic attack right, Amanda?
How do you like me now?
Ouch. Tiny heart attack. Thanks.
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.
Damien to whoever is writing my story.
Ps. I can only speak in letters, sorry.
Misery Loves Their Own Company 