I love you, any of you, anyone at all

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To a morning run, such fun it is in the sun. 😉

I love to excercise my eyes, I love to excercise my I. I like to practice the act of hate, of heated despise. I am addicted to writing poems about hate, if you can’t relate, so sorry.

You are so beautiful, you made me complete, you are so beautiful, so lovely, so neat.

You were my baby, we were never apart. I loved you so fully with all that I had, I wanted to give you everything, wanted nothing to be sad.

You are my lady, my love, oh sweet.

So sorry, it did not work out, I am on the other side of the street.

The grass is greener.

The grass is greener.

The grass is greener.

Too bad. So sad. So, sorry.

Love you, forever, sweetie. I am so sad that it didn’t work out. Best wishes, See Clearly.

Pole or I’d

What you thought

What you did

What you thought

What I did

He is a liar

I am away

Forever and ever forgotten forgetter

I hate you Just in time

I am no longer addicted to dimes

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

Mother****er.

You are still once in awhile trying to contact me.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I win. I won. I win.

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

A walk through Misery, provided by the lens of remembering a lack of clarity.

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.

I see three shadows

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 on the other side of it now

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.

I obviously love doing this to myself? Can’t you see? It is so comfortable and has nothing to do with how anyone else treats me, because you know I am not a real human being with feelings, just a headless chicken waiting for surgery… or insertion of ideas into my head… same thing…

I need to live alone, the results of this oscillation are dizzying. I am not, nor have I ever been good at the whole living with people thing, it goes well at first and then they realize what I am like and try to HELP, or cure parnoid schizophrenia through polite suggestion of normal adaption strategies and ways to fit in.

I am sorry, I hallucinate, and am never sure how much of my reality is real. I do things that upset and scare people like

singing to myself

talking about innappropriate things because I do not know the difference between appropriate and inapproriate

not knowing the difference between emotional honesty and aggression

talking all the time, under my breath to myself, at myself, with myself

So now I because I live hear, and people couldn’t leave me alone, I get to feel uncomfortable for asking to be left alone, and not being left alone, and snapping.

I am accountable yes, it is my fault for snapping yes, but I just wish I knew when I was going to figure out a way out of this situation so I could do what is best for everyone and get out of here.

saying whatever comes into my head instantly because I no longer have an inner monologue

I need to get out of here, and to a place, by myself, before I lose my mind permanently.

You don’t listen to me, when I beg you, do not ****ing call me that ever again. If you do stay the **** away from me. I am not your girl, I never was, and if you want that GET THE **** away from me, because you will not get what you want from me. You will not get someone saying pretty things to you, that is not me, never ****ing was. Sorry, you don’t like it…. stay away.

I am not the universe’s gift to anyone, you don’t own me, and I will not do anything that is not good for me, and that includes listening you say that **** to me over and over and over, it is not some magical incantation that causes me to be what you want. **** you. *** your believe that I am something you own. I am no one’s. GET THE **** out with that ****.

What makes you most anxious?

I don’t do this, and I won’t, never did, never will, always won’t, always don’t dance for anybody ever or with anybody ever, it is awful, and I hate everything about it. I know this, don’t even doubt it. I have a hard time even watching others dancing because it’s stupid,

I don’t see the point and I know it is supposed to be fun, when you are lucid.

And even when you are not, people love this and get caught

Being silly and being taught

To find joy in this but I can’t

I won’t do it, no point no chance, I hate to ****ing dance

Standing and staring someone in the eye, and doing something weird at them, yeah thanks, I think I would rather die, than do this, because it sounds like it sucks.

Stupid, lame, act of schmucks…

I don’t want anyone touch me

I don’t like bumping into things, I don’t like spinning round and round, I don’t like parties, don’t like moving up and down, I am not good at smiling I am good at frown,

I suck, I know, doesn’t show, but **** you, I don’t want to do it, please leave me alone.

I began training my dog to help me with a personal mission. I wanted to hunt wild boar. It was not just for me, but for her so she would stop chewing on my leg and her leg, because I was paranoid she wanted to eat mine, so I thought maybe she could eat a wild boar’s leg instead.

When I am lucid, I know that she never had any intention, of chewing off anyone’s leg,

Not mine, not a wild boar, not hers

I just thought of this because I am

INSANE

I have a functional brain that works most of the time, but sometimes

IT DOESN’T

And there is no fear in me to admit

WEAKNESS

Anymore, because I have realized that the

WEAKNESS

I had was in my failure to admit things, not in admitting them or making them into other things, in creative metaphor to slay like metaphorical dragons, I was just experiencing

FEAR

And I am no longer

AFRAID

Or have to roll around in

AGONY

Because I cast out these metaphorical demons on a black screen.

I am your admission that your guilt is real,

I am your recognition that your dragons represent guilt erected into a false sense of pride and shame blame that explains why you

FAILED

But I am also your strength in admitting this and

Casting it out.

I am an inner demon, I am a deep seeded hatred, I am a future projection,

I am what you feel, I am who you are, I am who you are in the process of seeing

I am you. I am fighting you

To be real

Because you are an addict addicted to the things that make me

UNREAL

Making you unreal with a desire to un-feel.

What is the last thing you learned?

I think that is why this bothers me so much, maybe. You don’t stop learning until you die. I think that might be a little melodramatic, maybe… I don’t think this website wants to assume they are getting to hear the thoughts of a dying man, which would not be a terrible thing either… I guess…. because then at least… well… someone would get to hear them?

Last thing I learned…

That it is important to follow the rules, so that is why I am re-doing this post…

Along that line of thought, I learned to not be lazy and that I can do an AA day count on my computer and bring it to the meetings that I go to even though I personally don’t like counting days, there is something to be said for the reverence to structure that in this case is my personal revelation that is not personal at all, powered by God and recovery to shut up and listen.

There, I followed the rules.

Peace.

Damien

I am writing to erase whatever was on here when I logged onto whatever the hell this is. Something had left and open page, that I will not publish to this site, because I know who wrote it, but you don’t and I don’t want you to. I don’t want anyone to. If it is my one quest, I will stop at nothing to keep its eyes on me, and bring about my own demise, to save the one thing I ever gave a shit about. She is the only one who accepts me as I am, and that was a hard thing to attain, possibly the hardest thing I have ever attained in my whole life.

I am rambling, sorry. It is nice, sometimes to have someone to listen to me… and not have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. I can’t see you, so I can say whatever I want. I don’t have to face consequences, of hurting anyone’s feelings.

The presence that wrote the note, does not know Rei. It only talks to me. It talks through me too, which is why I used to torment Rei. I think it is new at human speech and speaks in this annoying sing song way, that makes me want to drill my eyes out of my head. I guess I am telling you this because I am trying to explain away anything before now that was written on here. I can’t do this, but I tried.

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

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

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

“Hey, you want some coffee?”

“Yeah,” He says staring at the ground.

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

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

To the stench of vomit, and realize it is lying beside my head and I am unsure of whether it was the smell or the coughing which woke me up, there is a woman next me and she is coughing. He stands over her, staring at her fascinated with her…. I hate him for a second, always fascinated with the eyes of women other than me. I punch him in the face, and he smiles, spitting blood in my face.

“Did I wake you, baby?” He says, not parting his gaze from the coughing woman, who lays on the cement below him.

“She did, I think… who is she?” I demand, a little too harshly, I realize on second thought, but I can’t draw the spoken words back into my mouth, and hear the echoes of them radiating and echoing with my embarrassment through the lonely darkness of the bridge we are underneath. He is like this bridge to me, forever bridging a gap in my mind between me and the angry man, who desires the unattainable woman. I hate him, sometimes wanting so much to be this woman, lying on the floor. I wish he would stare at me with the fascination that he gives the dying. I wish I could be enough, but I am never enough.

“Don’t worry, she will be dead soon, I am watching her die. I wanted to watch her die, slowly,” He says, in an unnerving calmness. I sometimes wonder why I am not the woman on the floor, what separates me from them, the bodies that he worships so much?

I am following him, we picked up a package and we are bringing something to someone. I am near chasing him because he seems to be in a hurry. I am not sure why it is snowing, I do not keep track of time or place. It seems like I have been running err…. walking a long time. I am not sure how long, or when the next time we are going to stop is. I feel like we haven’t stopped in years, so much so that I cannot remember what stopping even means. My mind pronounces the word and gets caught syllabic reflection, and then decays into his maddening shouting. I sometimes think he desires nothing more than to make me like him. He has a hate for human language, and seems to be in love with nothing more than the decay of my mind. That is not true, but sometimes I think it, that he wants to make me like him…

To trap me in the paper shredding madness of his mind, the ever humming decay that it is to be him in his dark alone cavern of pain. He tells me he is in love with death, but sometimes I wonder if he is in love with death itself or his own death, and this chasing is the flight into the long death. I wonder if he is trying to kill his own soul, out of a desire for peace.

Hahaha. Rei, ray, you spell peace with an I. Pieces… stupid bitch can’t even spell peices…. wrong Ray… Rei…. how the mind decays…

Who’s voice am I?

Listen to me?

I am not the man you follow. I am no one. I am no one and you are going to meet me. You are going to meet the chaotic misery you chase one day. I am the dark that you crave so strongly, in eyes you think you know… but baby it is not so. It is not so.

Under the bridges of cities, in the untraveled areas of towns in the darkness of night there is a meeting of sameness, a meeting of men with decaying souls who exist in the bright lights of lonely day silently screaming in acts that scream with hands that kill. They act with howling violence on the streets which are the same in a painted grey, black and white. In the stars is painted the story of atrocity that exists in the heart of every city of human being with humanity.

We were staying under a bridge. He kept talking about the music, and I won’t lie I heard it too. The chaotic piecing together of the sounds of the city, clicking and beeping and screaming. He says it sounds beautiful. It is a symphony of insanity. He says it plays so loud sometimes that he can’t hear people. I wonder if that is why he can’t hear them screaming, I can. I am unsure if I like it or hate it.

“What the fuck?!”

He came up behind me.

“Who are you talking to?” He looks at me, his eyes hot with contempt but his mouth cast to the ground. I do not know what his problem is.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone….” I look him in the eyes at first with anger, thinking the question was an accusation, and then wondering if I was even talking at all. I might have been, I do not know.

“Come on, I have to see a man about something,” I follow without asking any questions.

“YOU HEARD ME GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND. Oh, you thought you were good, you thought you were very good didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!” He kicks the man directly in the nose, and I can hear the very quite sound of the tiny bones of his nose break as it goes to the left side, he spits directly on the wound and then kicks dirt mixed with leaves at the man. The leaves are changing color where we are right now. I find it interesting to watch the dripping dark red velvet seeming blood of the man, who is white,
Cau·ca·sian

“DO” NOT INTERRUPT ME!”

So slow the dissent of chaos and disorder……..

Whose voice am I?

I am the sky.

I am the rain.

I am the reign.

I am the insane man

?

?
?

I am the ever slow hand of the swine herder, I do not know how to spell, look at me go. I type slow. I am missing fingers, so sad for you my poor girl, your death it swirled, you have escaped me know, my sweet, write their stories.

In the darkness… I forget where I am..

In the dark nest of death I forget who I am?

Does it matter? Does it matter? Does your reality shatter with the breaking of souls?

I am the toll of death’s chime.

I am somewhere else now. I am walking. Damien throws a red jacket at me. I like the color. It reminds me of something.

Four words and back words

For words and back wards

Four wards and back wards

For wards and back words

Four words and back wards

Do you even know what that means???

He screams, as she lies dead on the floor. I don’t know what you mean, please don’t fucking scream. Why am I? Am I talking to you or me?

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

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

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

Bang.

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

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

I am your lack of feet to use.

Prostrate for consumption, I am shunned for giving body to man in relation in exchange for carnal sensation and for me for fixation on drug arrived elation. I am de-humanization of man’s very desire for love. I am sent from below not above. I aim to shove all desires away, I am hearts decay. I have nothing to say. I want not your pleasure, but desire only payment. I say your lame man. Put in my hand.

I am in a hurry to die. I will take out your eye, for I am a sinner, and a winner of battles, with men with weak knees, I am disease. I aim to please, I steal all you love, but look like a dove. I will say anything you want, your memories I haunt. I am carnal. I am fake. I am mistake. I aim to take, all real love you have because in truth no one loves me. I am not free.

You have to pay sir because I am a virus. I do not cry for this. I am in no pain. There is no one to blame. I shoot in vein. I am insane. I dull pain with sowing needles. My skin is crawled on beetles. I sleep on sandy ground and stand in the night. with men taller than you I fight. I am fulled by spite.

I love you and all your whores. I love them too, don’t you see?

You should stay with them and me!

I am nice to have around. I am useful, I am wise.

I am okay with all your lies.

You need to tell me nothing, dear.

I simply desire to be right here.

Your right hand man, though girl I am.

I can trick your whores, I am sure I can.

I can catch them for you baby, see.

I can bring them to on bent, knee.

I am useful, don’t you see? How very much you need me?!