She was so sweet, she painted the shadows, she gave light to darkness, painting color into worlds of starkness. In all lack she painted color, touching hearts of trouble with waves of beauty.

She gave this to me

A flower from you, that you gave me to with love.

I gave it back, in reaction, in shove.

You were a bird, a sweet turtle dove, whom I could not accept, my heart from below not above.

A flower from gardens of heaven, was returned because I could not bring in it to the beds of those led into HELL, the place where I at the time I am meditating on did dwell, baby.

Yes, it was.

It was pure HELL, and

Flowers don’t live there, now I am leaving to, and in leaving, I am drawn to thinking of you.

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I loved you baby

You were a dream, you were beyond what you seemed to be, I am a nightmare.

I am not anything I seemed, a crying, screaming nightmare, a hellfire vacation, where the only situation that was in any way relaxing was fixation with elation, go away and let me die alone, I am not the one you want to talk to on the phone, I am forever in pain and forever a drain.

You were not like, I painted you like me.

You were so above, my sorry diss ease.

I could not have you, because you knew I was a liar, addiction to meditating on a funeral pyre.

Candy was dandy, and liquor makes me sick, though I am sick to begin, with anyone I am with, I am not able to love, when meditating on cry, she was so sad, because thoughts of her make me sigh, she asked me to quit, but I cannot lie, she was not enough, so I decided to lie, and instead to do things behind her back, meditating on death and on my soul’s lack.

Surrounded on both sides, by the all consumingness of you, I look out into nothing, and see only lack, my soul in perpetual attack, under the spell of don’t look back, and look down and vomit with sound of

ACK. Cough. Cough. I am human eating from chaos’ trough, I eat drugs and don’t come down, I star out into the lurking nothing, reflecting back on pain that I stuff into

The gaping hole, that I have inside my soul, it rips and tears and eats the idea of me whole. I am reality bought and sold, I am bell of death ringing, I am a toll,

Unpaid, unpaid, unpaid.

I am gate to HELL,

You are the idea of HELL

Idea of being UNWELL

OF PAIN THAT IS SWELL

AND SWELLING AROUND MY SOUL

OF DEATH CONSUMED BY UNPAID TOLL

Laid, laid, laid, and

Opening, opening, opening, and staying

Extended into the opening, opening,

Blue, and black nothing, I am the idea of you stuffing stuffing, into the the whole hole of your soul, the teddy bear full of NOTHING.

Have you ever broken a bone?

My wrist, my wrist, my wrist, and this….

I had three of my finger tips amputated due to heroin addiction, annd injection site infection.

I am bone loss

I am the disintegration of neglected, injected, flesh.

I am an amputation due to heroin addiction.

I am forgetting you are a being with flesh.

I am the act of ingest, things that make flesh decay, I am not heroic, and let my flesh pass away.

Hydrocephalus, how I hate thee.

My head is always below water, that lives around my brain, slowly drowning me in my own disdain, and driving me slowly, insane.

In sickness, with quickness, I am.

In quickness, with sickness, I stand.

I am bound to a form, I am married to a form, I can’t stand.

Heroine, Heroine, where fore art thou, heroine.

I am retired, because my physical form is on fire.

I am on fire because my fire is from a physical form, I loathe, not just for reasons expected, but because of things undetected as of yet.

Heroin, heroin, how I miss thee Heroin.

In sickness, I miss, contents of top shelf.

In, health, I am still in Hell, even though I am told, oh well, you are well, yeah well I feel like ****.

My hands hurt. I am tired, and I really want to get high. So basically, I just really want to get high or drunk, but I don’t because I am an ***hole when I get drunk or high.

Too bad, so sad…

You are being a **** too, at least I admit I am doing it.

You did not admit you are doing it, I told you that you were.

I am you, writing on the internet a conversation you are having in our head.

At least we aren’t doing this on a street corner out loud while high.

Yeah, there’s that…

It sits upon me

It sits upon me, and I know not why, I am hot and pointed to sky, not really pointed, because I am flat, It is a perch in that way and only that.

I am quite hot, and think that I

May be frying bird, sitting on my eye, I am as sharp with light as a

Needle

Rushing with

Speedle, glowing with chaotic rejection of night, glowing with light, glowing with glow, I am going in the act of gooooooo slow… to the sky, raising I’s up hiiiiiiiigh. I am so very………high.

I am……very toxic………….. aren’t I?

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

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

HEROIN

I loved her so very much, I decided.

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

My treat is to retreat.

I am a coward.

She was mean to me.

I am coward, and did not want to see.

You are an addict.

You are a liar.

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

Rabbit Hole, Oh Rabbit Hole, You are such a delight, Rabbit Hole

I am sitting on the floor, waiting for my shot of sun, you are above me, having so much fun. You went first, what a surprise, you are so very good at becoming the objectification of despise, oh sweet master, you are the apple of my eye. You hold the key to my heart baby, in injectable poision.

I stare at a spindle, no I stare at you, I love you so much, what are we to do?

GIVE IT TO ME.

You ask me

What?

I desire poison.

I am the act of cut.

Sever.

Cut me in two.

I just want it, not you.

Ow, I hurt my own feelings.

I am alone, I am alone, Eye am alone.

No need for anyone, or for phone, or sound, I exist in the resounding sound of down, of put down, deep underground.

I am the act of burrow, I am brow furrowed.

In a cave kind of like this, an abysmal abyss of pure dark bliss, kissed with grey of the act of away, she existed just in this, like this, in bliss.

The dark expanses of this place, painted her face with darkness, with space, with the act of erase, of space, of just exist, in this, pure bliss, death’s kiss.

In a cave that was painted with the power of the abyss,

She lived out her days of swimming in dark waters, and filling her mouth with their mucky dirt, in her world of hurt.

She was a sorrow filled creature, with a deep dark soul, that was like the painted cave, and with misery taking it’s toll.

She was devoted to sadness, it was her favorite drink, and with every sip, she would sit and she would think.

I am sorry for the lack of clarity.

Baby please, get off your feet, and meet me on the ground.

Come back down, and hear the resounding sound of quiet.

You are daylight’s riot.

I wish only for quiet.

You are my fire fly. You are sunlight’s spy, a flashlight in the comfort of night sky. Hanging lights up so you can see, every bit of nature’s landscape clear to you, the lover of blue sky and morning dew.

Nothing of night pleasant or in view, you seek to chase away the dark vacantness, that is my permanent vacation nest. In everything you strive to erase or chase away, is every place I desire to stay.

I love you baby, I love you sweety, I love you deeply, I loved you sweetly, ever and completely, I hate you hunny, I hate you so fully, so much

She was my lover, she was my girl, she was my everything, spinning round and round, and turning upside down, down side up, upside side down, round and over, and upside all around.

You meant nothing, you meant nothing, you meant nothing, you are nothing to me, leave me alone, leave me alone.

I am happy now, this is all in the past.

Looking glass

Looking glass

Looking glass

Alcoholism encased

Addict in blank space

I loved her with everything I had. Baby, oh baby, why did you not give me anything, when I gave you

EVERYTHING I

had

You were big and I was small. you were big and I was small.

She loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not

I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I the lie I am the Eye am I Eye am I I am I

She meant nothing to me, lie

She meant everything to me, and I meant heroin to her.

Under my shoe, under my shoe, it is hidden so cleverly, under my shoe

We were in cahoots, she was my new friend, well not really…

She was my friend, for every minute we contrived, some plan to rip off everyone who as she, was not so divine. In truth, I cared for nothing, not even her kiss, just was on a mission to get a really good fix, for a problem contrived, by a mind addicted to mixed poision, if with her I could have stayed, I would not have not left…

Oh, silly girl, I loved you so, with my friend in love, say it’s not so. I loved you so much, but daren’t piss him off, now I think of you always and never, hope you are better off.

I am the bad guy, and you just wrote a love poem to heroin.

Yes.

Is that what you really think?

Yes.

You realize you are insane?

Yes.

So this is what it has come to, the one word answer game, so you look good and I look bad?

You are not real.

I am staring at an image, but staring at you.

You burned my soul, paper thin, wore it out, oh heroin(e)

I am writing to you, but also writing to that, because I never love anyone else first, not even my cat. I worship a goddess, who is made by spoon fire, who is fed with cotton, and sown with desire, I worship you, baby, but really do not, my love for something else is always too hot, it is lit by a candle, a lighter, a match, it is burned till its ready, hope death don’t I catch, I speak of the past here, because I no longer have, enough veins left to do heroin.

I hate myself, I am an anthem to a bottle and a needle and spoon on dusty shelf, I am all that everyone should never aspire to be,

To see clearly, is not in my power to do, I am forever blinded, by the beauty of you.

Me neither.

I know.

It’s a little bit better than thinking resentment is that strong of a voice in my head.

Is it?

I think so, but I am not sure.

Me neither.

I think it has something to do with you really hating being female.

I think so too.

It makes sense in a strange way. I always had a feeling about this, and always thought we were half one, half the other.

I know, I kind of always knew about this.

Me too.

Sea Goddess, Ocean Siren

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.

You are so far away, and I hope you stay that way, but I dream about you everyday because I am an alcoholic and need to think of something else, putting ideas of you back on the shelf.

I am thinking of her, but I am really thinking of you, and when I romance her, I am thinking of you, and everything I felt because of her, which was really all about you and everything you made me feel.

I love you so, you make everything so easy baby, you make it so okay, to be so crazy, and you will never let me go, no matter how far I run, how long I go without talking to you, you know just where to find me, which is anywhere, anywhere at all.

You know that I am small, though I pretend to be tall. I pretend you don’t have the power to take me down

down down down

On the floor, crawling just like before, where I prefer to be, cradling rocks with my hands, because sharp things are my best friends.

Pin cushion

Pin cushion

Words about heroes.

A very sarcastic blast from the past, or me kicking my own ***

Burn me. Baby, sweet baby, you make me so ****ing crazy

I see two doors one red one black, I painted one red, instead of black, to the black door I can’t go back, this I know, because I have a complete

I am to be red

I am very small

I am red instead of black because the narrator is an ***hole.

Lack of ****ing self-control, my soul a burning rotting, wreaking hole, not whole, but hole instead, so sad, too bad, must turn around instead.

The door, the door, behind it lays, things from which I needn’t say, because you could guess what they are, and my heart, my heart,

Is black because I am ***hole, writing about drugs in the morning.

So sad, too bad, I can’t see anything clearly, so dreary, so learly, letters from See Clearly

I love you person I don’t know, because you are beautiful and glow, with colors of say it isn’t… anyone I met, so you are not dead to me yet, because you simply don’t exist, you are idea of bliss or chaotic death either one because I know I ****, and am horrible at everything so I ruin anything I have and would ruin things with you too, and that no longer makes me sad, because I am

Insane, and engaged in a worship of myself, or with items on my shelf, that I threw out for now because I… actually they got stolen… and it was

Really ****y, but you are really pretty, for a second you make me think of something else,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I love you so,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I wish I could forget you,

And not be writing love poems to a woman who is really a metaphor for how I am a pathetic loser.

Ahahahhah.

I am syringes filled with glitter paint

Glitter made me pretty, made me green. Glitter painted life so nice and sparkly and made everything a technicolor, beautific painted dream. Glitter made everything sparkle made me love your eyes, painted your face so pretty, painted mine with despise.

I am a horse of a different color.

I am a horse of a different color

I am a horse of a different color

Yellow brick roads painted with blackness of night, make little children run in fright. On roads I walked in shades of black and white, from those roads all people should fight the night and stay away from shades of grey or graying shades coming in shades at all, that make men think they are big or small.

On those roads, which I once did walk, my friends outlines lay on ground in chalk, and nightcrawlers are said to talk about addictions that took them away from families who live far away from the streets of brick that lay littered with madness, stolen from families lurking in sadness.

Rile me up, I have had enough, I am sheparding myself to a path that is not talking out of my ***.

He was such a good boy, or so they thought, until they gave him the toy, not just any toy, but the best toy in the world, or what he thought was the best toy in the world.

Roy loved horses, of courses, of courses, anyone would love horses.

Ray loved to bite at its legs, so it had none, like most horses I know, say it ain’t so…. don’t you know? don’t you know? A horse with no legs is no good, so Roy simply thought, that he would bite them off, so he did without a thought, and off they came, and then the toy was lame, and Roy switched to a softer toy, shaped like a sandwich.

What does that even mean?

I liked how it sounded, rappers do it, why can’t it be done with horror, and actually all letters you write me are severe, because they are severly disturbing to average people.

That is actually very true.

I know that is why I thought of it.

Not everything you think is true.

Blue poking madness, is dark gladness, or glowing sadness

Name one thing.

I am not a drug addict, I just like heroin and can do it responsibly this time, if I just don’t drink. This is actually something you were thinking today. How do I know, because I was thinking it to.

I am a box that never should have been opened.

I am trying it one time, and never again.

I will never do it two days in a row.

I can just drink one.

I can just have three.

I will start at five.

I will start at 12.

Severly, means harshly, and I think that a lot of us talking to each other, can be considered harsh, which is why I like you.

You like me because you have to, because I am you, or half you, and you are in love with your whole self which is half me.

Sick burn.

You’re welcome, I am usually the one saying that to you, so now you got a taste of your own medicine, and got to be the bad guy for once. How did it feel?

Like I was sitting back and listening to you talk, but I was actually present in my own body, having to experience me talking, and be completely coherent during it.

Hahaha! So, it is not easier being me, now is it?

Actually, wrong, it was being you than it would be being me, if it was me, I would not have been there at all, the fact that I am you was the only reason I was able to deal with any of it.

Thank you, I don’t know what to say about that.

Really? Thank you is all you have?

Amazing isn’t it?

No, actually, a thank you is kind of nice.

You know how insane this whole process is right?

Yeah, was just thinking the same thing.

Maybe, other people do this in their own heads.

I don’t think so.

I was just trying to make my own self feel better.

Yeah, your own self.

You are my own self.

You are my own self too.

That is a very insane thing to say.

He told me something

Spoke so clearly, told me that he loved me dearly, he had such a beautiful voice, so I felt like I had no choice, but to make him

CRY CRY CRY

I love you sweetheart, hope you

DIE.

You are part of an empire of chaotic obsession with death that seeks the theft of youth by making them afraid of the idea of truth, so they stick themselves with

PINS AND NEEDLES

Sowing into themselves cushioning, that cuts out everything they are, everything they were before, making them sure of nothing other than that they need endless replenshiment of something that is not food, not water, not shelter, or warmth but

GIVE ME MORE LOVE

I am the act of shove, I am the act of push, I am take everything you have.

I am addiction, I am all consuming, I am ever entombing, I will eat your

SOLE

Of your shoe because your real soul belongs only to you, please

Remember that.

We stare forward because we always stare forward, we face the way we always have, we stare forward into the water, looking forward never back

I am standing on the beach alone, or so I think… It is the middle of the day, but it is misty and the ocean gatherers have cleared about because it feels like it is about to rain, the mist is thick and penetrating, cold enough that I am beginning to be unable to feel my fingers. The water is warmer than the air, I wade into the water, and allow the water to warm my tingling skin, and strangely feel someone, somewhere looking at me, strange….

There is nothing to our actions, we exist as we always do, doing what we do because we do it

We look forward because we do

Do not make this about something larger, we are not what you lack

We stare forward into the distance

It is your own soul that you attack

I could have sworn there was no one there.. but I can feel it… a human being staring at me.. I look around and still can’t see anyone, but can feel the warm presence of someone there. It feels like I am being watched by someone, maybe from far away. I look around at the birds, and they are still, not moving, not making any sounds. They stand perfectly still, as if watching someone too….

I remain standing there for I don’t even know how long, and at this point, I am not sure how much time has passed by, but I feel like I can hear the birds thinking to me, they do not think like human beings do, they think in a sort of group think, collective conscious, letting me know that nothing abnormal is going on, at least not with them.

I distinctly feel someone behind me, and look around, I still see no one, but I swear I can feel someone watching me. At this point I am so unsure of the time, and so overtaken by this strange sense of urgency, I leave the beach and run up to the nearest sign of humanity, of any sign of life, I find a white fence, and thankfully for a second, while I stand choking on my own aloneness, my own discomfort, trying to get some sort of semblance of normal feeling, I again feel someone standing behind me.

She crouches down and looks deep into my eyes, her skin glowing with an unearthly angelicness…

You heard them to, she says to me, not with her mouth, she thinks it at me, she thinks it over and over frantically, with a desperateness that lets me know that at least for this one moment, there is some peace in my universe of aloneness, that for one moment, even if it is just that one moment, someone, even if they are kidding me, even if they are making fun of me, is existing alongside me in a hallucination…

She starts laughing……….

I start laughing…. and for one moment, one moment in my entire life, I know what it is like to have someone who understands me.

I drop my wallet, I drop my wallet and look down, and wouldn’t care… I wouldn’t care, except there is something in my wallet that I think I need so I grab it and it falls out… she looks down and walks away………

I ruin everything in my life.

″‘Precious, precious, precious!’ Gollum cried. ‘My Precious! O my Precious!’ And with that, even as his eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize, he stepped too far, toppled, wavered for a moment on the brink, and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last wail precious, and he was gone.”

J.R.R. Tolkein The Return of The King

“Misery misery! Hobbits won’t kill us, nice hobbits.”

J.R.R. Tolkein, The Two Towers

Do you see you?

Yes.

I see me too.

---

Put me in, try me on, I make everything easy.

I make life, black and white.

I make every fight yours.

Always and forever

You are the winner

Always and forever

---

And so we go, below….

I put things in that make my caring spread thing.

I put things in that make me want nothing else, except my own needs fulfilled to have my precious needs fullfilled.

I put on airs to make me not care when you touch me that way because it brings me closer to getting what I want, my precious…. my precious…..

I want you so my precious

Do you see me clearly now?

Do you see how

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSYYYYYYYYYYYY

It is…….to lose oneself…. in want…..

I miss a lot of things

Looking at the ground to make sure

I will not trip

Welcome to the path of my life, I am inner complicated strive, I am clearly’s soul cutting.

Are you green? Are you green? Whatever do you mean?????

I am talking to me.

I am talking to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The narrator hates themself.

The narrator needs to calm down.

The narrator hates themself.

Okay I feel better.

But really looking for rocks

Or darts to toss

In the trash, because you know it is my goal to

FOCUS ON EVERYTHING THAT KILLS ME

Stop it man, seriously.

Why? I am done anyway.

You are helping me,

Damien.

You are me, but you are also not, and you are helping me.

Thank you self.

I am the Crow 2.

I am the crow too.

I am the crow to, as well, as an adjective of a human being who steals from other human beings while they are not looking.

I am the crow, two

There are two of me.

Welcome to Hell, Misery painted with wine, and whinning. no winning just whinning, from spendthrift dime stealers.

Penny for your thoughts?

No I am sparring not sparing change.

I am disdain, acid reign, wishing for soul washing rain.

Ahahahahahhhahahahhahhhahahahhahahahhahhahahhahahhahhahhahahah

I am the horrors of walking next to an active user.

I am the non-heroic heroin user.

I am resentment of past action.

I am true admissions of a soul attacking soul attacker

I am hopefully getting over this.

I am actively seeking forgiveness.

I know this comes from something higher.

But I am more comfortable crucifying myself.

I am more comfortable doing this to myself.

I need help.

ahhhahahhahhahhahahhhahahhahhahahhahhahahhahha

I have no tent, because I can fly so high, that I need not sleep, because I am high as Hades.

I am a looter of the looted by life, I am the riddler of strife.

I am the stealer of unwatched things, I am heroin addict, unwatched, on meth, stealing while you sleep to buy drugs.

I am the confessions of an ***hole, who is no longer on drugs.

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

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

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

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

How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic?

I am more careful with my words now, because I never know who I am going to offend. I say this in response to the pandemic because whenever I speak about it, I wonder if I am talking to someone who lost someone during it, it has made me more conscious of others grief, and where they are in the process of grief.

Ever since the pandemic, I realize that I exist in a world with people who are also suffering at time, we all suffer on and off together, and I am more careful about what I say. That being said, I am learning, as of late, to be more conscious of what I say even than before, because I have been prone to rage on this very site. I am learning that I damage me by sending myself into fits of paranoia.

Finding the middle is key, honesty, without the hate, just critique minus the threat to belief or right to be.

What brings you to these woods, my woods, what do you want?

You are not desired here intruder, and should leave, having, as you do dominion over the whole expanse outside these woods, while I have nothing but them.

There is no reason for your presence hear, there are plenty of other woods, in areas much like this, that you can row your little boat in the river of.

This is the only spot that has yet to be discovered by the park rangers damn it, and it is the only spot you decided to row your stupid little boat.

Your boat sucks, and I hate you.

**** it. I dropped my cigarette. ****. I hate you. Now it’s ****ing wet.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2023/03/12/wordle-596/

The most terrifying thing, I have been thinking about all night is what if I am actually normal now that I have realized my paranoid delusions are what were killing me, making me live in a separate reality cast as a madman when that is not who I ever was, riddled by guilt of not saying no to drugs… what if this is a higher power talking to me, telling me it is my delusions, and the drugs and alcohol that perpetuated them, making me into something I am not… and now.. now I hear something higher… and I am just listening, actively, to the voice of something that loves me. What if it is just trying to save my life, by telling me to stay away from toxic things like drugs and alcohol, what if it is trying to change my fate through compelling my broken soul to change?

I have been casting my eyes to the stars at night, looking for a star that is different, anything that will say that something is speaking to me, that this is not all in my head. That is some sort trial that is supposed to bind my hand to something that is tied to something that is much higher than I could ever have been in my whole life of vagrancy.

I am compelled to meditate in my room, in any room I am in, on this strange call I hear sometimes. It comes to me when I am shaking, or crying in the dark black of night, and the only thing that seems to cure it is church or the powers of over drugs and alcohol that I gain through recovery meetings.

I have always heard this strange music, in my head, when thinking about all this, a chaotic piecing together of sounds, when I think about all this. It sounds like the universe talking to me through sound, but I think I am just insane. I don’t know…

See there was nothing to save, I was right, you were wrong, and you saved yourself from watching me slowly rip myself into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to do anything with my **** life anyway.

I am getting better, and I don’t need you, anyway. I can do this without your help, because you never understood… I kept saying over and over I am done, and you would want to go out and have a drink with me. I can’t ****ing do that responsibly, and I told you that. OVER and OVER and OVER
and you insisted you could teach me how to drink the right way????

I don’t want to drink anymore **** it. I am doing this now, and you are still saying you are worried about me, and you are still using????? HOW AM I THE BAD PERSON????? STOP CALLING ME.

THIS happened two weeks ago, de Soto.

No one calls you anymore.

That is not true, I have friends…. just not her. Just not her.

https://wordpress.com/tag/word-of-the-day-challenge

I used to quell spells from Hell, with spells from Hell, and I lived to tell, and it just as well, because I am thinking well, now, that I have learned something I am not trying to sell or tell to anyone really, just keeping it close, even though I am leary, and in perpetual queery, queerly thinking that I am doing something wrong, like a bad song, or a book too long.

I am still resisting, insisting, as I do, to trudge, on on and on.

I am of unsound mind and body still existing on moving forward, as I do because I am consumed with idea of tomb, punish me, baby.

I am crazy, but maybe I am not. Maybe my mind just runs hot, with dissing ease of soul displeased, and teased by my self, and I need to take my life off the shelf, away from the bottles and the sowing needles, of just as well, a life bound to life in eternal Hell.

That is what my friends say is the end to this wicked spell of perpetual defend and cry and die, and lie, and spy with the ever holding eye of crying dying mad and sad. Maybe I am not that bad after all. Maybe I can do this whole living thing, and maybe I am just punishing those around me, by sentencing sentences to the sound of my complaining, does that ring true to you,

Clearly, do what you say, not what you always do.

Love yourself too.

I am looking at you, and wonder how you do that?

That standing upside down thing? That standing inverted thing?

How did you make the world flip over?

I don’t get it…

Please come closer..

I also would like to know…

Why my legs hurt and feel like they may go

Out from under me….

Any minute…

I can see you know by your grimace…

You seem to know something I do not…

Now please tell me….

My face is hot with…

Worry…

Please…

I can’t feel…

My.. knees…

Let go, your hanging upside down from a tree. The ground is right below you, let go, and it will catch you, you can even touch it, just open your eyes, you have your eyes shut, you are seeing things not there, your eyes are shut, open them, and get down from hanging upside down.

Oh.

Thank you.

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

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

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

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

Do you know what I felt there?

Over the line…

In decline…

Life resigned…

To a mind…..

In pain..

Life down..

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

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/147347238/posts/4271

I used to be chained and bound, to tree with roots on poison ground, soiled with years of heroic consumption of heroin, meth alcohol, and death, and destruction.

I used to fire fire in vain effort to inject in vein with deathly effort, now instead I have developed a new addiction, a mesmerization with words and fiction, instead of misery mercy through diction. Thank you wordpress for keeping me sane, for saving my life, and keeping from destruction in vein in vain.

Mercy is found when, reflections are made, that bring the eye from ground to sky, that cast the eyes to that which is hire than anything I can fire in vain effort, to fill my blood that is so vital to my survival, with poison instead of being what it is, a gift of life to a soul in diseased strive.

Merci, Merci,

Mercy, Mercy.

I thank you from the misery of addicted souls everywhere

Damien.

Check out this kick ass, blog and recipe.

We eat very seasonally. In the spring we eat asparagus as often as we can, which is at least 3 or 4 times a week with spinach or green salad on the other days. During the summer it’s green beans and summer squash every day for months. For fall and most of the winter we… Chicken, […]

Chicken, Potato, & Cauliflower Gratin — Thyme for Cooking — My Meals are on Wheels

“Keep in mind that I’m crazy, won’t you?”

Girl with the dragon tattoo, Stieg Larsson

Daily writing prompt

What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

View all responses

Something like this, in tattoo form, right on the opposing side of my elbow, on both arms, because it reminds me why I don’t want to do drugs anymore.

JOKE

If something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be a warning. It may be The Omen.

The omen

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

****

There it is, the one word that describes me, blanked out, so I have no idea what it is, and you can guess the mystery behind its four lettered character.

The answer doesn’t matter. Even though the answer is the entire point of answering this question, or is it? Or is the point…. the characterization of a member of society who was before unclear?

Omen.

It’s all for me…

ahahahhahhahhhahahhahhhahhahahhahhhhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhah

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.

Explanation: This post uses getting off of a horse as a metaphor for getting of heroin, because horse is one of the names addicts call heroin on the street but also because it makes you a passenger in your life instead of one who can stand on his own two feet.

Trigger Warning: If discussion of drugs/addiction/alcoholism/drug use triggers you please turn back now.

EXPLICIT CONTENT

________________________________________________________________________

I am no longer a passenger in my own life, no longer taking a back seat, no longer on a runaway horse. I am becoming something I had no idea I even had it in me to be, a human being, with a life, and friends, and human feelings who is accountable to the world in ways I never thought I could be.

I derived satisfaction, in previous years only from substances, a chaotic passenger, prone to riding runaway trains, or riding on the back of a horse, thinking myself its master. I have come to realize it was the reverse, and that horse is no longer riding in me, on me, or within in me. I am the happiest I have ever been in my entire life, because before this I have never even known what that word means, I derived satisfaction from things that in the very nature of what they are, are not capable of providing the thing I thought I used to think I was attaining, this explains the chaotic chase of horses and dragons that has been my existence on this planet.

I walk through life now, elated, at peace and reinstated in a reality that is the most satisfying thing I have ever known, because it is real, and I derive satisfaction now from being a good person whenever I can, which comes from something that gives me strength to do so-

everyone around me

the earth-the air, the water, the ground

and the simple rewards of waking up every day and trying my hardest to be better.

What is one word that describes you?

DUDE. NO WAY. I KNOW I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT **** my other answer, I did not remember this when posting it.

THIS RULES. I AM NOT FAILING TODAY!

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/22/your-daily-word-prompt-Particular-ydwordprompt-March-22-2023/

Trigger warning: This is about drug seeking and effects on my ability to be confident in friendships I have, due to emotional immaturity. Drugs mentioned. Do not read if sensitive to this kind of thing.

For no particular reason, I am very sad right now, so I think about the particles in the universe, I think about pieces of sand, so tiny, and so together, part of a body of sand, and I long to be a particle of sand, that is part of something else, and never alone, but I am always alone now, and I am so sad.

I say no particular reason, but that is a lie, I know exactly the reason why I am alone, I chose this every time I used the phone to call someone to pack away all the feelings I have, everything I want to say with acquisition instead of inquisitive mission to know anyone but those who are on a mission, now I am in a peculiar position. I don’t know how to make friends, and I know I already have them, but I don’t know how to have them, I don’t know what to do next, so I am stuck in the land of anxious guess, addicted to pain, and in a land of washing rain, why can’t it wash away the stains on my damaged brain. I feel like I will always be insane.

In vein. In vain. In vein. In pain. Disdain. No more pain. Please send me soul cleansing rain.

I know you don’t know me, but I am lonely, and I want to know you, whoever you are, whoever is lonely too.

I am very sad, and want someone just like you. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why, but you are like me, and we cry with similar cut eyes.

I hope you are okay, I am not. My head is hurting, my hands are hot.

My heart is broken, I am alone, and I hope you hang on, person who is also by unanswered phone. Please don’t be sad, I am sad too.

I don’r want for you anything I feel too.

Can we just pretend for today? Just pretend that we already know each other so you will be okay?

I am lonely too please don’t give up.

I want to meet you. Don’t die before we meet up.

https://gmgblog.ca/2023/03/20/five-word-weekly-challenge-2312/

Need an outlet, I am spinning tales of death to distract myself from what I am really thinking. It is 9:24 on the east coast……. and I am sitting staring into the darkness of this screen, thinking of how much I long for something, out of sickness…. I long for you… oh spindle of silence,

Heroin, oh heroin, I love you so,

Heroin, oh heroin, why must I say no?

Why, must I long for you for the sweet kiss of death every night at this time?

It is an insane release of tension to write dark horror. I don’t care what anyone thinks… I am going to do what I want now. I am an ***.

I am trying to be more honest and am not going to do the whole fake it thing, I am still the same **** with dark thoughts, I think the key is to find outlets for my rage issues and not hurt myself or bite people’s heads off. I think it is a good outlet for repressed aggression and makes it easier for me to not lash out at people around me. I am very passive aggressive and have a lot of repressed rage I channel into writing…

Sorry.

Damien

“Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon earth.”

Homer, The odyssey

I used to live in the woods, really I did. I spent an entire 8 months in the Oregon dunes, somewhere and everywhere in Oregon. I lived there and survived by clamming, and panhandling for food money, and don’t feel bad for me, I made 200 dollars a day, so very promptly after getting there, I developed a nasty attraction to bitter rocks that ate a hole through my hands and my soul.

They chased me to California. I walked there, I think I mentioned that before, high as a kite, I flew on the feet of the dragon, and the wings of fallen dreams to the state of California, with an angel of mercy sent to me whose name ironically was Chris, he sang like a bird the entire way. He was a beautiful singer. My arrogance and pride caused me to walk away, literally from one of the kindest human beings I have ever met in my life, without even saying goodbye. He screamed after me, and I ran, fleeing kindness for California, where I would meet what I was running to, an empire of pain on the sullied streets, I thought I desired so much. I am sorry Chris, you were kind to me, and I should have at least said goodbye.

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

The sound of automation is mesmerizing, the clicking, the shuffling, the beeping the whirring, shoving and blended talking of all those on the train, who do not know me, and don’t know anything about my past. They have no judgement of me, preconceived or otherwise, busy with their own business. I fade into the background, and watch a world I left behind for a dance with a siren who wanted to rip my soul from my eyes.

My eyes are free now, and look around, not dominated by watching her, they are free to be their own, not called to the service of a master, they watch as the passengers go about their quiet business, and I am inspired by their composure, ability to be so normal, the train is a zen garden of little people, not screaming in overinflated hot blow up doll chaos, they keep to themselves, and I keep to mine, in my mind. I am thinking about leaving this place, misery, and doing something else, thinking and sure that this time, I mean it, because she should not own my words anymore.

I am going to board a new train of thought, and then hopefully get myself together enough to go on a train and do something else.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1884

The amount of glass on the ground around me on a daily basis astound me, items on the floor smashed to smithereens, left there because I don’t take my shoes off, and I don’t care about walking on glass without them anyway.

I smash things to pieces, and I wish I could spend more time everyday picking up the pieces than lamenting an existence of fracture, but I cannot bring myself to picking them up without squeezing my hands around them, I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore. I need professional help.

I wish I could make more phone calls to do this, but I threw my phone in the river, in a paranoid psycho delusion that people were listening to my phone calls, even though my phone calls were just to her, and her yelling at me.

I think this is the last I will say about this. I am going to do the things I said above, get professional help and try to move on, sorry for ranting on here..

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

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

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

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

I loved your company, Rei.

We loved your company.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/03/16/reenas-xploration-challenge-272/

I am in a trance, meditating on a deadly wavelength a chaotic hypnosis focusing on a stroboscopic motion, the slicing fan, tragic entrainment , of my mind transfixed on the woman who danced with me, for money and items.

I am dancing right now, with my own death, because I cannot handle living right now, and I don’t want to die, but I am bleeding out a year after losing you, over and over again, triggered by nothing, by you calling me, you texting me, bothering me, so much that I put all this out here on this site, as if it just happened, that is how it feels, like it just happened, but I have bleeding for a year. I am dying over this, and have been for a year, killing myself, with drugs and alcohol over a person who used me for drugs and alcohol. I am disgusted with myself and with her/him. I am so done with all of this, but keep coming back over and over to it, because they won’t leave me alone.

I just want peace, please everything in the universe, please just give me the strength to move on and find something else.

How would you rate your confidence level?

10. I am very very fast. I can run faster than anyone I know, most notably faster than this guy whose girlfriend paid me back my… rent money. I loaned it to him.. because I am a nice person? It was 400 dollars I got for standing in traffic at a light, and I am not the kind of person who looks good doing that… so sometimes they pay me to move, it takes a couple hours to make 400 dollars, like 8.

I stood there for 8 hours and had enough to pay the rent for the month or um… make tragic mistakes, you know dice roll. I decided to play double or nothing with my friend who is my business associate at well, well after this, his girl was my business associate and he was my **** for about 2 months. He wanted the power back from his girl.

I have a very um… aggressive approach to business, so people give me what I want.

Being impervious to death helps too… which is why I am turning my life around because I am realizing how I write this what an *** I was, because I think that something saved me all these times, and I proceeded to give it the finger, so it chopped my fingers off? Or the tips of three of them? I don’t think He or them or it really did that… I think it was MRSA and me being a ****.

Moral of the story, I am an arrogant **** , but I am trying to tone that down so… 5 on confidence..

It’s pouring rain, I have been walking a long time, pacing, in the darkness and lamenting the fact that is raining and I am cold, and wet and tired, in this moment I forget the day’s events. I forget begging the universe for a shower, saying I was thirsty and could use a drink of water, crying for someone to help me.

My head is very loud, racing thoughts that sometimes threaten to drive me mad, screaming at me, and a lot of the time it is hard to hear anything at all. I am trapped in my own head sometimes, a prisoner to my racing thoughts, chained to the walls of my mind like an inmate. My hands are hot, because I have my fists clenched, my palms are bleeding on both hands, and they are burning, the rain feels good on my skin, kissing it with the raindrops, it takes me out of my angry ranting thoughts and reminds me of earlier in the day. I think I am crying, but can’t tell the difference between my tears and the rain, the only indication that I am crying is that I feel like I am gasping for air and have been not able to catch my breath.

This is just a memory I have, I don’t know what it is about. I am not sure.

There is a gate, it is up ahead of me. I open it and I sit down, I am compelled to look around, and start looking through a flower patch, there are bones in it. I start crying again, and remember someone I knew who I was looking for, for some reason I think these might be their bones. Something is telling me this, I do not know why. I feel like I am being watched, but can’t keep myself from falling forward and curling up into a ball, I am crying harder now.

I don’t know who is hunting us, more and more of my friends disappear every day and it is not by any of our hands. I have lost five friends recently, and they have never found the bodies, and I am suspicious because I don’t think they died of overdoses, and I know it was not by my hands or anyone else I knows hands, but it is being made to look like that, it is being made to look like the deranged lunatics are taking each other out, and I am afraid, because I don’t know who or what is behind this, but it terrifies me. I am afraid to sleep so I engage in something I thought I told myself I would stop doing, so I don’t fall asleep. I feel like I am going throw up.

Rushing through everything, to serve you, the way you wanted it.

I devoted my whole life to you, now I am haunted, by the hole, you burned

In my soul, and mind, in bind, with time, maybe I can put you behind, like the piano we pushed down the street, in the middle of the night, and then the fight we had,

Because you know I am bad?

I wanted it to be fair, but you didn’t care, my **** your ****

Your **** Your ****

Too bad, so sad, push your own piano next time, hunny.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/03/18/weekend-writing-prompt-303-enterprise/

en·ter·prise
noun

1.
a project or undertaking, typically one that is difficult or requires effort.
“a joint enterprise between French and Japanese companies”
Similar: undertaking, endeavor, venture, pursuit, exercise, activity, operation, exploit, mission, deed, act, action, move, measure, task, business, affair, proceeding, scheme, plan, plan of action, program, campaign, project, proposal, proposition, suggestion, idea, conception, caper, wheeze
2.
a business or company.
“a state-owned enterprise”

(dictionary.com)

Thus far, I have been a tool of a criminal enterprise: street drug addict supporting through undertaking and engaging in endeavors, ventures, pursuits, activities, operations, exploits, missions, deeds of deceit, acts of impunity, actions of cruelty, moves of strategic acquisition, measures of unkindness, tasks of business with the affairs proceeding to schemes or plans of action, programs of simulated pain, on a campaign or project of life down drain.I am so done now.

What makes you most anxious?

Time makes me scream, it makes me dream of things that don’t make sense or cents, that is not true liar, you have made plenty of money in time.

Yeah, but I spent it all on dimes.. I traded it in for dimes at the cash machine.

I am such a ****.

My life is a long episode of Jerry Springer.

************************************************************************

I heard that one in my head, and it made me….

Throw up?

No, that was because your stomach is ****ed!

Yeah, because VODKA SUCKS!
Good one.

Clearly.

I congratulate me on a day where I was only an ***hole last night, and complimented random individuals in the food store aggressively.

They seemed confused.

In a fog of vapor, an addict puts pen to..

An addict lies about nothing to make things rhyme while wasting time

Spinning rhymes to distract themselves… have you heard there are two of me?

Clearly.

___________________________________________________________________________

I am sitting alone in silence, wondering what it is that makes me have random moments of I am going to fall off a cliff, what shifted, what did I miss?

The shot…

No not that, that is done, and you are

SPUN

You are no fun.

Neither are you not anymore…

Whore.

Ow..

Did I hurt you?

No, you were talking to yourself again.

_____________________________________________

Sometimes, I get sunburn so bad it is on the inside of my soul.

Hole.

Whole.

Consume Hole Whole Soul

Erase Transmission?

End of mission?

Mission to what?

To shut you the **** up.

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?

Explanation: Shocking, I am trusted to not have to leave, if there is no one here to watch me…

Now this…

Pond, not Stream of Chaos

I am a duck, apparently, because unknowingly

I have been teaching myself to be less

BANG EXPLODE

Like that, so now I can be alone, and not have people

Worry about me, which is

EXCELLENT

Because it also makes me trust me

_______________________________________________________________

I used to be constantly floating from place to place,

In a race with the human race to consume my tomb in the form of drugs and doom and alcohol which I would viciously consume, in doomed ferocious style, in front of all I know

sowing shame and guilt while also showing pain and guilt through vicious attack on self but also on others eyes, making people cry without knowing why because I am selfish. I am becoming not

I think… I guess.. don’t know…

_________________________________________________

I am a duck in a pond, that is just okay enough with me for now, to not drown

I am not going down

Because I don’t want to

Un-spun I am no longer undone.

I am glad to be trusted, un-dusted, still rusted, but dusting off.

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.

I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.

I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own

Maker

Breaker

Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.

Facts.

I loved you, any of you who was with me, I thought… but now I don’t know, because it always ends the same

You are insane

THEN GO! I KNOW. I KNOW. I DON’T CARE. I DON’T NEED YOU. NEVER DID NEVER WILL I HAVE MYSELF

All you need is love..

All you need is to shut the **** up.

I need no one, but myself. I need to put the drugs and alcohol on the shelf, that is what I need to do, and I can’t do that with them, I can’t know that I am not going to do this again.

I can’t even be my own friend damn it.

I know, Damien.

I break up with me, every day.

I know, Damien.

I know, Amanda.

I know, me.

I know both of us.

I hate me too.

How the **** am I supposed to like anyone else if I can’t even look in the mirror, I hate everything and everyone because this sucks and it is hard, and you make me nervous because I know everyone is thinking the same damn thing that I think about me

YOU SUCK YOU SUCK YOU SUCK
You suck?

That’s what you think?

That’s what we think. They think. I think.

Do you think this is fun for anyone, who the **** would want to be around this? I don’t even want to and I am this…

Then stop doing it.

Oh.

What makes you most anxious?

I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..

Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant

To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…

I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…

and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..

I just told people the truth so now I am going to die, I just told people the truth so now I have to STAB OUT BOTH MY EYES

I don’t know why I do this…

Because you love death’s kiss… ****

I don’t though really? Do I?

Yes, clearly…

My heart is pounding really fast… and I feel like I am going to crash into everything around me and I am dying but that is not real and I feel like I want.

Jump into a moving car.

SCAR SCAR SCAR SCAR
I am very far away from reality, circling a

DRAIN?

DRAIN

Dying human stain…. remove remove remove

remove remove me… from this..

You think this is going to work don’t you?

Yes.

No.

GO
SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW

In the darkness of night, no one can really see me, because I am not there at all, I am death’s call, I am the act of stall. I am the toll of the bell of the night, I am the activity of a dying fight, I am the passing of anxiety, I am the feeling dying slowly like everyone else, I am cares cast away on a shelf where they can’t touch me, because I am far away, they can’t touch you dumb*** they don’t know where you are… and aren’t interested in you and you are just trying to write to save you from drinking what is wrong with that?

Okay.

His name was Chris which is ironic, because he is a christian, so I think it is a set up somehow, like somehow someone is sending someone to spy on me and naming the characters they send after me in mocking style, because obviously I am that important right? Didn’t realize at the time, how ****ing narcissistic that was, and it is only now, that the paranoia is starting to fade, that there is not some secret plot to take me down specifically, because I am just a lying drug addict alcoholic, and I am not sure why being a serial killer sounded better than that… I have no idea.. it made me feel less powerless… I think.

I am very angry at myself about all this, because looking back at it, I realize how much of *** I was… how even though I thought I was always getting ripped of and deserved so much better, how much better could you expect your life to be when you are con-artist who panhandles for heroin, and basically tries to make people afraid to not give you money. I used to make 200 dollars a day doing this, the key was to look like you are going to rob them for more than they give you freely, and then if you get caught, you are a pretty girl, and you change your voice, and Damien is your ex boyfriend who put you up to it, and he hits you and you just want to get away.

I was such a piece of ****.

Damien

I love ya, hunny, and it shows, or showed, when things were going well, you know? When we were loaded with lots of cash, and didn’t have to worry about you stealing my ****ing stash, but now I am sorry sweetie, gotta go,

Because you know what, sorry, baby, we’re in a rut and as much as I love ya, you ****ing ****! I hate your stupid ugly guts, so take my money sweetie, I don’t need it, hope you like it, hope you keep it for longer than one day, because sorry dear, I am staying away.

I am walking to California, and so my dear, I am going to warn you if you come near me, I can say I will bite your head off, and make you pay, because I have a rare gift don’t you see and sounding like guy I still have these? So now with the power of two in one I am pimp and whore with loaded gun.

I will take out your eye, don’t touch me ****er, and if you say anything I will make sure your luck

Is in the ER ER ER ER

Damien/Amanda

Something set me off, and now I am insane, I am searching for a cause, but there is not one, not that I know of, because it was something small, that should not cause fear at all, but you sick my mind is thick with sickness, un-perceived by me, so I have to do this sometimes, write about

NOTHING, unpacking misery stuffed into a soul filled with everything and

NOTHING
I am you, I hate everything you do, you are stupid too, you do nothing right, you are a sick loser, in perpetually fight, hiding in dark night.

STOP IT **** it.

Please stop it? Please?

If I get on my knees, will you stop it?

I like it when you..

**** you.

**** you. **** you. **** you. I am not listening anymore. I am not listening to you, because you are not real. I am a human being with feelings that are real.

YOU ARE PATHETIC.

YOU are pathetic, you are not me, speak for yourself buddy, not mine.

I am done with you.

Good, I tricked you, it worked.

End. Meditation.

Better?

Kind of.

Meditations death of resentment.

What activities do you lose yourself in?

Re-vision- Soul re-stitching, threads of misery replaced with kindness.

I used to lie, cheat, and steal

In Misery, only would I deal.

Suffering was my main course meal.

I did not eat, I lived on the street, and in pain and suffering I did deal.

I was a cheater, a liar, a thief, if you met me I would make sure you fell beneath…

Me in every endeavor thinking, I was so clever, but really only

HURTING

Me.

Now, I am trying to be different.

ER ER ER
__________________________________________________

Flat line

__________________________________________________

Revive revive revive

_____________________________________________________

I lost my train of thought,

My rhyme scheme is for naught.

_________________________________________

ER ER ER
_________________________________________

I love those around me, it makes me uncomfortable and I use horror to deal with it, because it scares people and makes me feel better because

STAY AWAY I AM SENSITIVE
LIAR LIAR

Who do you think you are?

An addict trying to redeem themselves.

NO ONE CARES.

I do, so I am posting this.

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

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

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

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

“The world’s a hard place, Danny. It don’t care. It don’t hate you and me, but it don’t love us, either. Terrible things happen in the world, and they’re things no one can explain. Good people die in bad, painful ways and leave the folks that love them all alone. Sometimes it seems like it’s only the bad people who stay healthy and prosper. The world don’t love you, but your momma does and so do I.”
― Stephen King, The Shining

The tortured inn keeper, thinks no one who stays at the inn cares about the inn, thinking that the ins and outs of those without the responsibility of caring for the inn indicate a lack of caring,

That is really coming from within, a manifestation coming from the desire to

GET OUT

Of one’s self, pushing those around

GET OUT
NO

I am you

The caretaker is a drinker, they think this is because they take such good care of the inn, that they deserve a reward

AN ETERNAL REWARD

Manifesting in alcohol consumption or consuming

POISON

They consume it on the regular, but it is not important the frequency just that it eats their

SOUL

ER
ER
ER

SAILING

THROUGH TIME

ER
ER
ER

Back now.

The innkeeper talks to me about keeping fires, about the duties of keeping an inn, and about the need to do things to keep the inn, like make it a little easier, by consuming poison.

I am a frequenter of many motels, so I have met many innkeepers, such tortured, kind hearts, that do not know their goodness.

What activities do you lose yourself in?

I am standing on a street corner, this time metaphoric, not real.

I am looking into nothing, or myself, whichever one you choose, overcome

By voices, this time internal, not external, not externalized, not demons with painted on despise eyes, not lies or falsehoods, but inner truths, painted because I am listening to me and to you. I am listening closely, with intention to hear, because I have spent a long time, not doing so, with desire to unfeel.

I am wondering what it means, what I do, now that I am focused and listening to you. I am wondering if there is anything, anything at all to any of this for a personal who notices it all. I do not know where I fit in, if I do at all.

I am standing in the middle of also on the side. Existing in the middle, because before I did not have the time, I did not make a choice to listen before, to me, and to you, and am wondering simply in this place, where I stand, what am I to do?

I am told over and over, just watch and to be quiet, but I am confounded with the presence of a mind that exists in riot. I am not trying to assert myself, not this time, but simply to understand, what is the place for my dark mind?

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

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

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

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

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

Extremely disturbing content: Meditation for myself- do not read if triggered by anything for lovers of abstract dark horror, not intended for those triggered by anything.

Explanation:

Trigger Warning: Mentions drug/alcohol abuse to show mental change in writer who is becoming less arrogant and better informed in recovery

Trigger Warning: I lied, this is a hallucination powered by Misery

Trigger Warning: Untrustworthy narrator.

Trigger Warning: Initiate simulated paranoid schizophrenia.

_______________________________________________________________________

Abstracting Abstract of Soul decay soul facts, revealed in meditating on meditative state of I am not so great but getting better.

and the realization of my word of fixation on fixes and the complications it placed on placement in reality..

Or I am an addict who lied to themselves… or I am an addict and engaged in addict thinking and am trying to live differently, by seeing clearly that I don’t know everything.

____________________________________________________________________________

I am. I was. I am not the same. I do not have the same thoughts. I do not have the same name. I have gone. I have left. I am permanently changed, I have severed all ties, I have cut out my eyes, I am never the same, permanently change, removal of stain. I have changed my stupid name. I am done, un-spun rewind-ed, rebind-ed, reminded, unconfined, un-twined

Mind designed by me, arrogant yes, but not, just addict caught in re-wiring, and desiring new thought, because FIRST THOUGHT WRONG.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tell me please, because I desire to know…. how does the world turn?

I don’t know? I was spun and spinning myself in perpetual orbit in

HELL of self in shell on shelf in HELL

PRISONER REALLY

Do you love me baby?

Tell me please? How do you love being on your

KNEES

BEND OVER AND ROLL OVER LIKE THE DOG THAT YOU ARE

___________________________________________________________________________

I do tricks, look at me.

I am fun.

I am unspun.

I am doggie!

____________________________________________________________________________Go to Hell.

____________________________________________________________________________

In a world of addiction an addict speaks in fiction to

_____________________________________________________________________

I see flat lines, and dead eyes
______________________________

Is she still still there?

SHE has never been ANYWHERE.

https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2023/03/09/oops-thursday-inspiration/

I got

Trigger Warning: About sex workers and drug addiction, and feelings of longing for love, but also needing drugs in active addiction of heroin/speed/alcoholic addict physically dependent on substances to remain not physically ill…About selling love for money, and the effect it has on the soul and damaging effect on ability to find real love.

https://wordpress.com/tag/thursday-inspiration

Item Eyes See Itemization of Love, which is not sent from above

Tick- prick- stick-pin prick- Oh, that felt, like-

I will never be loved until I love myself,

But also like I need no one else other than me, because I can buy love with time and money, minutes spent on standing on a corner holding a sign or getting in cars with strangers, or peddling

POISON

I will never be loved until I love myself

I will never be loved until I love myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

I hate myself

Stop. The clock will not move forward in a state of

Click.

Click.

Look back, it is important to remember and forgive not remember. remember. remember. romance the drug. resent. romance the drug. use.

Need to find a middle ground, recognize what you did, admit it and move on.

Click go.

TRIGGER WARNING: About sex workers or prostitution, and revelation of moments of clarity, mentions drug use and is very graphic do not read if you can’t handle this. I am writing for my own recovery, and to cleanse my own mind and soul.

You were the last man to touch me for free, and now they will never touch me again, because I realize, I charged with the charge of a heart scarred by being untrue to me. I did not want to be with any of you at all. I was not that kind of… person. I charged for the scars to my arms, to my soul, to the eternal burning hole in everything that it is to be me, and give things heroically in falsehood because what I was really doing was buying letters carved in human skin that told stories of heroic-ness, but what I was really doing was sleeping with people for free drugs… nothing more nothing less.

We search your basement hideout for your **** which you already did, I know because we did it together, but you don’t remember this, because we were together for a second, being together in love with each other for the brief second that rocks are thrown on table,

Rock, paper scissor

Scissor, I cut you out of my life, toxic friend, and all men, that make me exchange sex for bitter rocks, cast at my soul.

I like women better anyway.

See Clearly- Trigger warning- mentions drug use

Mentions drug use- for my healing- not trying to trigger anyone- direct mention of drug use for my own healing.

Margin Eyes for Marginalized Margins that stand on the sidelines doing lines so we lalala can’t hear you

I was so high high high above you

oh so lovely to be free from humanity because I couldn’t deal with how much I was afraid of being hurt that I hurt those around me, because I was bullied as a child for having learning disabilities and hydrocephalus and schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, and depression and anxiety and narcissistic personality disorder and PTSD and anxiety and depression and tendencies towards aggression.

I am also an *** who makes excuses for the fact that I am an addict who wanted to get drunk and high and makes excuses for the fact that I am selfish and loved getting drunk and high so much I would make any excuse I could to continue doing shots, lines, smoking, toking, doing hits… than giving a **** about anyone but me.

There is no excuse for me, I am sorry.

Trying to get over it…

Are you superstitious?

Yes, clearly.

I felt better as an internet serial killer, that was my version of The Punisher,

I live in fear of being happy, because I don’t want anything good because having things you want makes it so you can take them away from me. I don’t even want it to begin with damn it. Take it!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ll show you how much I don’t want it. I will make you all get away from me!

That is why I act the way I do. I am literally a child having a hissy fit, and I realized this today.

I never learned how to deal with things like an adult, so I am going through it now.

Sorry for the continuous explanation, I am explaining it to myself, really.

See Clearly,

Finally looking in the mirror.

Damien

https://www.yahoo.com/news/residents-struggle-flooded-california-town-210851497.html

If you have the time, please click the above link, because I feel like it shows the dire situation facing this poor state, that has such a complicated face already. I read this and almost started crying because I used to live there on the streets, because I traveled there to get away from my ex. I saw such a dual face, the human beings that are stuck out there on the streets want help not available to them a lot of the time because of the way drugs are treated in California, and the way handouts are valued over in-treatment programs, rehab and recovery.

There are many like me, who were still using on skid row because it is easier to get a dealer to give credit then it is to get a person to buy a sandwich. Just saying. Some people want to quit and don’t have the strength to figure out how, they are addicts not to blame because they have a disease called addiction which causes a deviant response to alcohol or drugs, deviant in that it makes alcoholics react differently than others to introducing alcohol into the body, making it a stimulant for their sick brains, rather than a depressant. This is a paraphrase of literature on the subject.

We are sick, deranged, strange creatures, not bad people, and I cry for California’s streets and for the lack of another thing that propelled positive forces there, the dying of their farms.

So sad…

I don’t know why I can’t say anything I really mean without being incredibly mean, I mean to say I do not know how to disagree and guess it shows because I either hide or kill and don’t like no’s or yes-es or opinions that differ from mine, and prone to silence or telling lies, and so I have been resigned all my life to sit and stew and not dare ever talk to any of you, because I fear my biting tongue, and ever present lack of resistance, utter insistence on being right and love of the act of fight. I am a jerk, a pain, a whiner a crier, a lover of war, of pain and fire. I am mean and I am ruthless, but my arguments you see are not with you, I do not hate anything you do.

They are with me, and what I lack, and my constant desire for attack and death smack. I do not know what to say, so usually I just go away, sit alone and drink or use, and my soul I sear with cold abuse, I am trying but I suck at this, I do not want to do this, and I miss things I never had because I live in fear and I can’t stop because I can’t drink beer or shoot up drugs, and it is not solved with getting hugs or sitting peacefully on rugs or talking to people you say will help me, they do not know the hell it is to be me

I am just simply without words, and I mean it when I tell you it really hurts living alone because you can’t do life, living in constant strife and being tempted to cut with knife, the very fabrics of your fragile life.

I am trying but I can’t right now seem to see what makes you so happy and so free, I am stuck to sit and to think that maybe if I cannot think of anything else, at least I know, I am trying, hope it shows.

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 have maintained the anonymity of my real identity not just because I am a liar. I am a liar, but I also thoroughly ruined my life to the point where the anonymity is necessary because there are certain people who are very angry with me who I do not want to have contact with while I am trying to recover from addiction and try to make some sort of effort to be a decent human being. I have faced the very real ramifications of a life spent back and forth on the streets and in houses funded by unsavory methods. I desire the anonymity because there are certain friends I have that are very unsavory characters, who want to kick my *** for lack of a better word. I faced all the situations in this story minus actually having to hurt anyone. I wrote about that as a way to get justice in a fictional way, and get out repressed rage when what really happened was I had to turn the other cheek and feel like a coward because I walked away instead of standing up for myself.

Damien

The quiet ramifications of a life of pushing everyone away, or I am surrounded by silence because I pushed everyone away.

I hate it because it reminds me of what a failure I am, I have lived most of my life, lying to myself. I am unhappy because I am alone, and have spent my life drug/alcohol seeking. I do not have any friends, my friends I had are all dead or don’t talk to me anymore, so I sit alone all day and write on here and I hate it and love it at the same time. I love that I am no longer surrounded by the negativity I was surrounding me before, which I don’t want, but it also reminds me what I have missed because of my choices. I chose to dedicate my entire life to drugs and alcohol a magnum opus of failure. I am alone all the time forced to reflect on all the bad choices I have made.

I lived as a homeless person, squatter, bum, panhandler, conartist and petty criminal for the last 17 years. I was on a constant mission to fuel only my addiction while obtaining a master’s degree in public policy which I have used as a way to skirt the law. I have not committed any serious crimes. I have panhandled, lied, cheated, gambled, and conned my way through life. That is the truth, the full truth and no lies.

Damien.

I am finally beginning to like myself for the first time in my entire life. I have never liked myself my entire life, I did not realize this till just recently, I hated me, so I was constantly defending myself to myself, I did not realize these were not always schizophrenia, but personal demons that were very different than the voices, they are easier to deal with and have started to subside now that I have begun to remove the toxicity from myself and my life. I am so happy to be free of all this. I am so happy to be free from everything that was making me so miserable, every day, and it’s so silly because a lot of it was me doing it to my own self. I realize that now, but the thing is the position I was in was partially responsible for everything I felt, not in the taking away accountability from me kind of way.

I am accountable for all the things I have done, but that does not mean I need to destroy myself over it and resent others for the things I am doing to myself, with my own hands. I am sorry to those that are hurt by me, to those who I metaphorically killed, because I am not a real serial killer, just a personification of addiction and manifestation of the guilt of an addict who did not realize how much they did not have to put a mask on the truth that they blame themselves for everything.

I was Amanda, but I am becoming myself, Damien de Soto, take it or leave it. I have never killed anyone, just facilitated the death of addicts through never saying stop using when we were getting high together, my daughter is real to me, in my world of future, but she is not real for Amanda yet, and I hope you understand what I mean by that I was not lying when I said anything I said, but rebuilding a soul for a life that I thought was already over, as Amanda and built for me, her future self, I am very much real because these are her real thoughts and feelings, and my family represents families she just recently new and one specific child who she never stood up for because she was getting drugs from their parent.

When asking what I did about my daughter, I was relieving a past feeling of resentment. Amanda called child protection services on someone who she had dealt with in the past, because she did not like what was going on in that house, and she and I were asking the universe if it was done out of resentment or if that was truly the right way to handle it. I think it was, she secretly does too, we both hope the kid is alright, although we never followed up to see if they responded to our call.

Thank you for your support it means the world.

Damien and Amanda, but mostly Damien.

I just went to a meeting, and had the most intense experience I have had in my entire adult life, better than any high I have ever experienced, better than any good day, any high, any feeling I ever had that was what I thought of as love, I am amazed at the power of just being honest right now, and was just lifted up by an entire room of people who are my friends now, and I didn’t even realize it. They care about me, and actually like me as a person, and I have never had that in my entire life. I have never had friends that weren’t business associates that were tied to a life of well… you know. I am blown away by the power that honesty has. I am so free right now, from everything that was racing through my head yesterday. I think I am beginning to understand what the whole serenity thing means.

I realized that a lot of the time, I get caught and stuck on something,

They tell you not forget the past, so I got over-focused on it. I think I am realizing that there is a middle ground for me, and I see it, and it is great. I feel so much better now. I am finally beginning to feel like there is hope for me after all. I am so happy, but will inevitably be back and forth about this, I am told that is normal.

Thank you for listening to me.

It means the world.

Damien

I have removed all the toxic content from this site, that was making me want to drink or get high. I am done with that life, and the people who made it seem so much better than the very simple life that I have now. I am so happy to be done with all the garbage.

I am sorry for negativity that I put out there during all of this. I will be trying my best to move forward, and make more contributions to society. That being said a lot of horrible things have happened to me during my life, and writing them on here helps me. This is free therapy for me, take it or leave it. I am going to try to be more positive, but that does not mean this site will not remain what it is. It is a horror story. It will remain a horror story with positive undertones.

Damien

The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she’s gone. I’ll never know what she was running from. I’ll cash her check in the morning.

frank miller

You should dye your hair red they say to Amanda, and I am in the back of her mind or screaming audibly in the sky, ask yourself why they are telling you to do this? She thinks I am being paranoid. I think I am being paranoid. I don’t think I am being paranoid. I don’t like this girl, and it looks like her hair is spray painted red for quick removal, like someone would do if they wanted to convince someone who is drunk to copy them as a cruel joke and then reveal they never did the thing at all, and they were never drunk to begin with, which we would have noticed if we weren’t always so drunk, every day.

The girl with the red hair has a name, but I am not saying it to protect the paranoia of my other drafter, she did terrible things to me and Amanda.

A rumor spreads about me having red hair. A rumor spreads about someone jacking cars who has red hair. A rumor spreads that I was seen at the scene. I wasn’t. I was in the hospital being treated for MRSA, from an infection that came from dirty drugs.

It’s funny the things people I have known have done to protect their addictions. Screw that. I like coffee better anyway, at least it doesn’t come with blood in it.

“Wherever they burn books, in the end will also burn human beings.”

– Heinrich Heine

EXPLICIT CONTENT: Post uses poetic analogy for the addict backed into a corner and told to drink, when this happens we sometimes attack like a killer or a vicious dog. This is metaphorical only, I have only ever killed anyone with my silence, not saying anything as my friends died in active addiction. These are allegories in all gory glory.

We are in a basement, a base meant for debasement of everything I have ever come to know to be true about myself. I am looking into the eyes of a woman who I used to know, I still know her, but I am choosing to forget this right now, not now but then.

Rei hands me a bottle, it had booze in it. I think she is handing it to me to drink it, it is everclear, funny name for alcohol that makes you so unclear..

I get pissed, so I put a cloth in it soak it in alcohol, by dipping it in the bottle, the smell of it disgusting, I hate it. I am sickened by the smell and want only to get it off my hands. I light the rag on fire, and she tells me the girl who sits in front of me wants me to drink it. I have been up for five days, and I would have known that what she is saying is not true, had I not been high, and been thinking clearly not thinking under the influence of things that cloud my mind.

I throw the burning bottle at the woman’s feet, Rei thinks I did this to burn the woman alive, and laughs. I was aiming at the book on the floor, the **** had a copy of a book about alcoholism at her feet, hating the irony I want to burn it.

The girl burned alive, because I can’t look in the mirror.

I watched because I couldn’t figure out how to put it out.

Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?
I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.

See clearly

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.

It is so quiet in my head, in this place, in my life right now, and while I feel more alone than I have ever felt in my entire life, I also feel more free than I have ever felt in my life. I am so done with killing myself over my past. I realize now that is what always destroyed any attempt at happiness before for me.

Amanda had a Rei Clearly, he is her ex as well now, and a lot of what you saw me go through was what she went through with him as well, she is afraid of him, so personal details about him are very limited at the moment, and will be divulged as she sees fit through herself or me on this site which now belongs to the two of us, as Rei is no longer going to be around me and has no contact with my child because she is not her biological mother, and I am not going to allow her to do what my child’s real mother did to her. I am not letting anyone mess with my kid anymore.

This includes myself. I am going to try to be a better person now, think less toxic thoughts and help my daughter live a better life than I did, which includes keeping her away from toxic people who talk about my drug use in front of my daughter who just did the same drug, which I blame myself for her even thinking about using.

Damien

I have always been back and forth in my own head with ripping people to shreds and calculating the exact right thing to say and delivering it to the person, and then thinking I am holier than thou for doing it. I am trying to learn to just say what I feel, but it is really hard for me because I know what they want to hear and have gotten so used to manipulating people to get what I want. I don’t want to be like this anymore, but it is hard. I hate receiving anything but accolades, which makes me hate myself, because I hate how I sound. I know I am narcissistic, I get it. I wish my brain would stop beating me over the head with it, and I wish I could stop blaming myself for being honest, because if I do what I always do and go back to saying the right thing all the time, I am going to just reward myself with getting high or drunk and I don’t want to do that either. I wish I could divorce myself. Haha.

Damien

Elliott Smith, Between the Bars

I am having a really tough time, going back and forth in my head, I think is because this is the longest I have ever made it in recovery, I am writing this for me to remembering how much I hated meth at the end.

I need unpleasant reminders sometimes: Trigger warning about coming down from Meth

I am standing outside in the rain, it beats down on me, pounding against my hot sweat drenched skin, it feels good, mixing in with my sweat drenched meth soaked fire skin, that itches so badly I want to rip it off.

My clothes cling to my body reminding me that I am human and a prisoner, in a world with locked doors, I am smoking a cigarette, praying over something that does not deserve a prayer, do not let it go out because I bummed it and bummed the light to light it and don’t have another one and if it goes out, the 10 minutes of peace I have before figuring out which bridge to guard for the night while clenching my teeth and hoping to find a person selling the antidote to my upness… In other words… please don’t take my ten minute delay.

I need this yellow light of slow down of

Traffic beeping so loudly in my brain, I can’t hear anything anymore, the rain mixes in with the screaming of an *** that’s drugs were clearly better than mine, ****.

For a second I envy his madness, and then remember, that I have been up for five days, and they aren’t even working anymore and I need to find a ******* downer…

And some booze, and a lighter, and this isn’t fun anymore, I wish I could lay down without feeling like there were roaches all over me.

I hate my life. My jaw hurts and if that **** doesn’t stop screaming I will stab him… Did I say that out loud or in my head?

Did I say that out loud or in my head?

That too….

Screw you too, I am talking to myself, because I am crazy, and it’s raining and no this is not your bridge!

I will stab you!

Oh, yeah bite me!

I think it is funny how the **** that I used to be married to thinks she is so above everyone else, and she is worshiping idols herself. She thinks herself some great nihilist, running through life capable of doing what she wants, and does just so, but she is worshiping an idol herself.

We believe in nothing, Lebowski. Nothing. And tomorrow we come back and we cut off your chonson

nihilists, the Big Lebowski

The battle raged on and on
Fuelled by the venom of hatred for men
Consistently, without the eyes to see
By those who revel in sewer equally

Dimmu Borgir, Progenies of the Apocalypse

I like looking into the dark and light, sorry. I am not of the opinion that the eyes should be shielded from anything, I like this band, take it or leave it.

They are black metal, so be warned, these guys are insane and worship things you shouldn’t. I write horror, I think of these guys as writing horror as well, they just worship the horror they write, and that is their right to do, I just listen to it as a reflection on what I do not want to do, but it is interesting outwardly, and they are extremely talented musicians, whatever their personal beliefs are, which conflict with mine, I am not going to not listen to music because of differing ideology.

Anyway, point being, my ex is an idiot worshiping erected god Misery or virus of addiction. Moron that she is…

Revealed to me to invalidate below:

I am not the center of the universe, like I thought in below post

I am going to slit this woman’s eye balls out of her head. I have been thinking about it all morning, and I can’t think of another way to handle this, because I am stuck on idea of removing her eyes from her skull. I know this is not healthy, but I would love to poke her in the eye like the cyclops she is, unseeing in all her stupidity.

Wow, cheap shot of the internet, thanks for this one, right in the heart.

“The computer is also not famous for having mercy.”

Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

Maybe that is a sign I should do nothing… I have been remembering quotes from this book all day applied to my life, but I forgot about this one, and it just hit me where it hurts. So I don’t know what I am going to do now.

Damn it. I hate having a conscience, it is very inconvenient.

Damien.

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

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

You killed I will make sure your blood is… oh that’s right you don’t have that because you have no legs to stand on, no place to land on, and need me to hit any vein at all, you can’t even make a call to get sauced or star crossed so get lost! My eyes are mine not thine, and I am no longer resigned to die, because I like life. I am no longer addicted to human strife, no I am addicted of stab pain with KNIFE, but I can’t do that so… because that is not real, and I am no longer a prisoner of feel,

I am now becoming more real, no longer need to steal or lie, I can take out your stupid eye or can’t I because you don’t have one. You see through me, which is sad, because I can’t see clearly, is your vision blurry ****? Her’s a fix, get in ditch.

End transmission.

My mind would not shout danger! danger! I am a perpetual stranger, the friend of a sad deranged girl. I don’t care about danger because I am invisible, my sanity is unreal and my will indivisible, it can’t be overpowered because I am ruled by fire, I am the power of sheer desire. I am an addict done using setting enemies alight with the power of ignite with deathly fright.

I eat my enemies whole because I am gifted being with two souls, I am a liar, a thief, a villain and addicted to blood spillin’. You are mine because I tell you this, I aim to kill and never miss, I wouldn’t waste a good shot on anything, so I stop using to kill you with the same poison I have been using, not heroin no, but resentment you see… I realized recently I was addicted to the idea of killing me. I wanted to cease to be anything at all, I wanted to head death’s call, but now I have realized this, and will not fall, it is my sole mission to unplug the phone, you can’t call anyone you are disease forever alone, you can’t use a phone, without my voice, and see the thing is **** I have a choice. I don’t want to die, I want to live, I want to be, I want to kiss.

I am a being fueled by fire born desire, not yours but the eternal I the desire of pyre. I am the being who will take you down, you are now hearing the sound of resounding pound of the time of night when the lights turn on and the addicts you hunt no longer head death’s gong.

I am playing pong with you **** and you will lose, because I no longer live in a world, with no shoes. I am the desire to chose to say no, I am RESENTMENT’S DEATH NOW **** GO!!!!

I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. 

Orson Scott Card, Ender’s Game

I just got out of the shower, and was thinking the entire time about what I have been talking about incessantly on here, the survivor’s guilt why me not them thing.. I think the thing is there are people who don’t want to change, not all of them, some really do and try, and it is hard as ****, and they make a mistake and die, or some really want it and have barriers that cause them to fail that I don’t, some really want it and aren’t willing to whatever… I really want this, and meant it every time I said it this time, truly, deeply and with conviction to finally make good on my endless foxhole prayers, that is the only thing I could come to that makes anything near sense, and it is not to say that no one else who was like me did this and was just unfortunate, I don’t think it was just fortune though, and maybe that is just will saying this.

I am starting to think the ruthlessness of my spirit helped me save my own life in combination with fate, will to survive, desire to change, and belief in something higher than me. I want to do everything I am supposed to do whatever that is, and I am truly deeply sorry, in a way that is beyond words now. I am going to just leave it at that.

Damien.

When I was a kid, I loved the ocean, so much, it is and was, and will always be my favorite place in the entire world. I am thinking about it now, to stop myself from making myself cry. I am so.. I don’t even know how to put what I feel right now. The bookshelf thing killed me. I can’t get over that I was the one spared and so many other people died while doing the same things I did. I don’t know what makes my life different, and why I get this and they get that, I wish we both got this. I wish I could help them. I wish.. I wish I didn’t feel like crying. I am so sorry. I am so sorry I am here and they aren’t. I am so sorry every time someone asked me if I wanted to get high that I didn’t say no. I feel like I am responsible for anyone I miss right now. I am so sorry. I was so stupid.

I know this does no one any good, but I just want to document that I feel this way, that I never wanted to hurt anyone with my addiction that was never my intention, I never thought I was while doing it. I know that is stupid, I was stupid, I was selfish, but I will do whatever I can to make it up the rest of my life, and I hope that is enough to make it worth sparing me.

I hope everyone is doing well. I am fine, I am just learning to feel anything for the first time in my adult life.

Love

Damien

I am feeling better, after all the confessing in vomit thrown at the pages of this thing. I am thinking that if nothing else, at least this is helping me attempt something that I never thought I would, the making amends thing always scared me so much, I think it is the reason I just kept drinking or using, but I am realizing that the process I was in was just slow suicide and it was hurting those who happen to grace me with their presence. I am trying to focus on the positive and bring no more negative with my continued presence on this earth, I figure if the universe was kind enough to spare me, I might as well, try as hard as I can to make it worth it for it to have done so.

I am not saying anything about deserving any of this, I don’t deserve anything, but I will take whatever I can get. I am desperate at this point, to do anything I can to not be the same ***. I am so sorry for everything. I wish I could turn back time and undo all the pain that I caused, but I can’t so I am doing the best I can to fix what I can, and not break anything else. I am learning to appreciate what I have and not at all, because I think I deserve it, I don’t deserve any of this, quite the opposite.

Love,

Damien

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Dear Inner Demon,

I hope you have grown up finally, which I would hope would happen after 100 years, but you never know. I am quite the *** now and I can’t imagine changing that much because I am stubborn. I also know myself well enough now that if I did happen to go through some kind of transformation that brought me anything like peace, this would be hilarious to hear, because I love to laugh at me, so no one else can, because I am very insecure and like to beat everyone to it.

I hope you enjoyed many many years with the cat, who sits at my feet, who I just made myself cry a little thinking about growing old. I wish for you peace and kindness and many pleasant years with this kind creature who sits right now beside me, I just made myself cry. Thank you for that. Jerk.

I hope you learned to love yourself, through the process of life, I am trying really hard finally, and I want good things for those around you. I hope I don’t ruin anyone else’s lives. I am sorry if I did, I tried for once, if I failed… at least know I tried, although that is no justification for anything I did. I hope you have found peace and if you haven’t.. I hope this letter helps a little at the very least.

Yourself,

Damien

I would not trade this for anything in the entire world. I am so happy to be able to hear myself think…. I can’t believe the level of peace of knowing that I am not hallucinating, and am lucid, and would never risk losing this. I don’t care about doing drugs ever again. I am normal, well.. as normal as I will ever be, every voice I hear is real. I don’t really even have to talk to my friend anymore because we are merged. Although I still will, love you baby.

I know, but you probably shouldn’t talk to me like you talk to Rei, she doesn’t like it and it is weird anyway.

You think?

Yeah, it sounds… weird… creepy…

Have you always thought that?

Yes, but I liked it. I still kinda do, but not the healthiest thing.

Yeah, true. Talk to you later Amanda, oh wait, now we can talk because we want to, not because we have to.

Really? Like real friends not slaves to each other? That would be great. I always wanted that. I just didn’t know.

Me too. I want you to know, Amanda. I really value this, you are my best friend and…

You are mine too. I don’t need you, but I want you in my life, is that what you are saying?

Yes, thank you. I love you, buddy. Nothing creepy.

Thank you, I love you too Damien. I will talk to you later. Have a good night, and don’t worry we will always be okay. I will always be there too. You are my guardian angel.

Um… is that what this is? What was I before?

Don’t worry about it.

I get it. I am glad I can be the other thing now.

My family finds it funny that I am still insanely jumpy from living outside, so randomly they will scream and I will scream back at them in various explicit ways and then feel like an ***. I am actually grateful they are doing it because it keeps forcing me to apologize after acting out irrationally. I think, even though they don’t admit it, that is why they keep doing it. I used to never apologize for anything, and I think they like hearing me say I am sorry, over and over again, which I guess I owe them.

Oh well…

Damien

I am so happy about being able to look in the mirror for the first time in my entire life, I used to not look in the mirror because it would cause me to hallucinate and literally trap me in the bathroom for hours unaware of time passing tearing holes in my skin so my face would be destroyed, it didn’t work, I have no scars, haha… damn vanity. The one face scar is from when my friend bashed my head repeatedly into a table, I was on meth, heroin and drank a liter of vodka, so needless to say, I felt nothing. It was pretty fun? I don’t think that is the right word, bad***? I was just laughing at him manically, spitting the blood back in his face, telling him I had hep c, which I have no idea if I have or not, still waiting for the results…

It’s funny because he has hep c. He yells back in my face I gave it to you, and I look him in the eye laughing and spit in his eye. I blacked out after that, and the cops came, tried to raid our basement, and I told them I had fallen down the stairs, and they shouldn’t worry because if they remembered correctly I fell down the stairs all the time and they never showed up before, they have a habit of waiting to long to show up and my friends die while waiting, so I am a little bitter…

I don’t know where I was going with that… oh yeah, I have a scar across my head from it.

That same weak my dog bite one of my fingers in half and i duck tapped it back together and then had it removed later because it got infected shooting heroin.

That’s all I can think of right now…

Peace

Damien

I am so happy to not have to pretend to be someone else anymore, I used to even change my voice, so it sounded more pleasing to other people, manipulation at its finest? I have a very aggressive sounding voice, and I always hated it. It is very freeing to be able to not have to do that anymore. I hated doing it without even realizing it. It is extreme enough that I can make myself sound like someone else on the phone, so my voice is not recognizable. I used to use it to get out of trouble. I did not realize how much of a liar I was, and how pervasive it was in every aspect of my life. The truth is really as freeing as they say it is.

I feel like I am a kid on summer vacation, but I am really just an addict in retirement from a life of…being an ***.

Damien

I think I am starting to learn how to feel again, or for the first time. I didn’t remember what this was like, or technically… I don’t know if I have ever felt this at all. The kid died when I was actively using and I never heard about it because I was too busy getting high to even be worth telling, wow, gut punch. If nothing else… this is more reason than ever that I believe there is something behind this. That something wants all living things to live in greater harmony and experience less pain.

I am listening to my family talk about the kid, I knew him personally, just didn’t know he was a drug addict like me. I didn’t bother to ask, because I was always so wrapped up in my own life to have friends, I had dealers and using buddies, and was a friend to no one. I am going to try to change that from now on. I am done being negative, till I forget and start ranting again.

Damien

I have felt lost recently, and I have been romancing my drugs/drinks of choice through whining and making it look like I feel bad, I was just complaining because I wanted to get high or drunk and I can’t because I don’t want to, that is my choice and holding onto the idea that I am being forced by something external is insane. I am being forced by myself, because I am out. I have realized what horror my existence was to the world, to myself, to my friends, my family, and to the streets of this country, however blown out of proportion I made it for you to see what I saw, because I don’t like to tell the whole truth, I am an ***.

I am speaking for myself and Amanda, because now more than ever we are learning to speak with the same voice, instead of the masturbatory narcissism that was seen on this site so far.

If nothing else, I am looking forward to being less of an inconvenience to those that love me.

Damien

“I want to put my hand out and touch you. I want to do for you and care for you. I want to be there when you’re sick and when you’re lonesome.” “They seemed to come suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter woods,””I want to put my hand out and touch you. I want to do for you and care for you. I want to be there when you’re sick and when you’re lonesome.” “They seemed to come suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter woods,”

Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome

My family is helping me with moving it back here, and I am going to use it to organize my life, I read a lot and there are all these books all over the room that make it look cluttered, and are an annoyance to my family. I am trying to be less selfish, and self-centered. I am realizing that while taking accountability for things is good, I have been going about it in a flawed way, which is similar to not doing it at all. I have not been letting myself move past it, and have been dwelling on everything in my traditional woe is me stupid narcissistic way of looking at the world, done. I am sick of myself, and want to move, so I am doing it now.

There are so many cool books in that room that have been left over from our families leaving them after moving. I have plenty do now, so I think it will be easier than ever to stop whining about how crappy I feel and do things to make me feel better.

Later,

Damien.

WARNING: THIS IS FICTION DO NOT INTERPRET LITERALLY

No, because now it is flying around my house in front of my face. I hate myself.

STOP IT!!!!!!!!!

Okay, I am done, I am feeling better now. I am sorry for upsetting you, Amanda.

I don’t hate my name that much when you say it, Damien.

I hate my name, my face… I am sorry…

I just can’t believe I remembered killing my family……..

This one?

No the last one, I burned my house down.

Did you burn my house down?

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I didn’t mean to upset you!!!

You didn’t burn it down either, you just happened to experience something similar and are drawing false comparisons due to paranoid schizophrenia.

I love you Damien.

Please don’t. Hey, Amanda! Please help me, please don’t let us ruin this. I am done with everything please support me in this. Please support me in this, I need you now, more then ever. Please help me, and help yourself. I will support you too.

I will, support you and me I mean… not like that… I am not helping you with money…

I don’t mean… I am so sorry.

I am so sorry, I exist. I am trying to… I admire your brother, Amanda, he is everything I should have been. I am listening to him speak as you write this.

I am too.

I love you, and it will be alright, we will be alright.

I know, you will too.

Thank you, that means the world.

To me too.

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

Macbeth

You realize we just thanked ourselves in the title right?

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

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

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

At first yeah?

You don’t care that it’s female?

It’s not female.

Thank you for saying that, but unfortunately it is.

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

It’s all for you Damien.

SCREW YOU!!!!!!!!

Okay… backing…

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

Wait what?

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

You were.

Please leave me alone.

Can you….

Please leave me alone.

You don’t want to.

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

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

Sounds accurate.

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

Strange *****.

Yeah right?

Remember that weird thing they said?

We are the descendants of the kingdom of Saul.

Eerie right?

No, I knew this.

**** you.

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

So who are you really?

I am you, but more about that later.

Okay. Good night, you deal with this now.

Okay.

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

Damien de soto, In the beginning

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

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

Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”

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

So that is who I became.

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

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

“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.”

Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

I have always wanted the peace of joyous people. I am crazy. I am dominated by fear and have been since eight years old when I experienced early onset of paranoid schizophrenia. I became unable at this time to control my actions easily and began drinking and using to deal with this at 13. I would steal alcohol and drugs or buy drugs anytime I could, because I also have hydrocephalus, a birth injury from a failure of the doctor who delivered me, I am lucky to be alive, so I decided to have a hissy fit about it my whole life and use it as an excuse for my addict/alcoholic life style. I am this way because I am an addict and alcoholic first and foremost.

Since I was a child, I could not figure out what enough even meant. I don’t like being told no even by my own self. I am addicted to pain because seizures have dulled my nerves, which were further dulled by self medicating my neurotic mind with substances, which I worshiped like idols, and built my whole life around the pursuit of.

I have nothing now because I chose this, so please, my desire is not for pity, just for people to understand what drives an insane man.

I love humanity while also hating you, which I separate myself from because I am weak, terrified and selfish. I see this now in lucidity. I am so guilty every second, but trying to make my life now, not about me. I am so sorry. I am doing my best to change, my **** that I post, it helps me, it is exaggerated and mostly allegory, but my feelings are real and they are hard for me to deal with so I process them with lies that have feelings inside them.

“It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.” 

joseph conrad, heart of darkness

They think I get up in the middle of the night to experience the hours of the day before they wake up, this is only half true. I do not do this out of a desire to be alone. I just simply enjoy quiet when I can. I have not had much quiet in my life at all, and the second they wake up, against their and my will… I listen to their existence every second I am present, not in a resenting way, actually quietly I sit and marvel at the people who surround me now, because I appreciate so much hearing voices other than my own incessant talking in my own head, or against my will at loud to myself. I am so happy to be around people who are not me, because as much as I sound like I am in love with myself, this is a defense mechanism. I am deeply insecure. I hate everything about me, because I am a cruel, uncaring person. I want to be better, but I have been like this so long, it takes time for me to learn to not be.

I loved getting away from reality so much I devoted my whole life to the worship of the idol toys of a man insane, substances have been my best friend along with my own self in female form. I have existed for so long talking only to me or the other me, on street corners where I am either shouting, crying or laughing in lunacy with lack of regard for those around me. I did this because I was in pain from pain I was unknowingly causing myself. I was drinking/using to forget drinking using to forget what I had to do to get drugs and alcohol to forget, drinking using to forget. I am a horrible human being, no really I am, but I am in the process of trying to turn that around now.

Peace

Damien

Where would you go on a shopping spree?

I am a lunatic, with no fear of consequences, it is called run through the store with cart, grab everything and then make them chase you out. It is also a good way to get banned from a lot of establishments. Kidding.

I am a lunatic, with no fear of consequences, it is called run through the store with card, grab everything and then make them chase you out. It is also a good way to get banned from a lot of establishments.

Heh. I make myself laugh. I just woke up to the universe playing a prank on me, there was an episode of one of those SVU kind of shows on about a guy who’s house burns down and there is 10 grand worth of fireworks in it. It was a hilarious way to wake up. Thank you universe. I love this prompt too.

I would go to a Walmart, Target, BJ’s or mall sort of establishment, that way I could grab a bunch of everything, and I would grab a bunch of everything. Expensive food, cheap junk food, random old toys for five year old kids like Gak, notebooks, candy, clothing, camping gear, microwave pizza, Christmas decoration, basically anything I can find that is cool because I have had literally nothing but the clothes on my back for the past 7 years of my low bottom addict life and I appreciate every item I find.

I am amused by everything as well, not just items. I am very grateful to have survived the hell that has been my self chosen allegory of what not do life.

I go on shopping sprees now anytime I have spare cash, and spend my money in local establishments to pay back those in society I wrong, by the way.

Damien

Okay, I am done feeling like ****. I am done ******* and moaning. I feel like a jerk. I get that I am supposed to, so I am going to start doing things so I am not just hanging out in this room whining on the internet anymore.

I am still going to do that too though. I don’t care, it helps me.

I didn’t kill anyone today. I just slept most of the time since I was last on here.

I think that’s good.

I don’t know how long I was sleeping. I don’t look at the time stamp on this thing.

I think tomorrow will be better.

Later

Damien

Hey, that is mean..

I know, but I thought it would get you to talk to me.

Jerk. Fine, here.

I am fine.. I am fine. I am fine. Everything is just ******* peachy. I can’t even feel things anymore lest I resurrect demon. Everything is my ******* fault. I can’t have a genuine response. I am not allowed to.

Geez. You can, just think of the effect on the other people.

I am. That is all I am thinking about right now, I am just going to not do anything, anymore. I am the… I sound like such..

Yeah, I know.

Thanks, I need that.

I know.

Now, you know a little more about what I hear in my head on repeat when I am talking to myself, you know what keeps me up at night. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I was just not able to stop doing what I was doing easily… I was weak and stupid, and even though I knew what I was doing to others, to myself, and to who and what I was serving, I still refused to surrender. I do not regret doing what I did when I did not know what I was doing. I regret doing it after, due to my own weakness, and lack of resolve to walk away.

I do too, Damien.

I know. I am you.

I think we can fix it by doing the right thing now.

You do?

Yes, you have to move on, beating yourself up is what it wants.

Okay, I will try.

Me too.

Explicit Content

(Explicit Content) Do not read me if you are sensitive to metaphors which cast addicts in killing roll of friends through not stopping active addiction.

Anticipating when to run, because I know this won’t be very fun. He told me to wait there, I was to be a watcher for a man of raw deadly force, this was a payment owed for seeds already consumed. I am addicted to pumpkins, I eat them in rapid fashion, sometimes I put candles to them, a light them with fire, and hellish desire. Their eyes cut through me like sowing needles in skin. I am hell’s kin.

I am the pumpkin eater, eyes cut out my soul of deceive her, the world does not need her, no one will notice if she is gone, bring her to me, baby, you know I am crazy and I will chew on you if you don’t bring me new souls, I have things they want and if you don’t it is you I taunt. I want to consume, I want to lay tombs, so tell them to see me. I know they need me.

I am speaking in metaphor, of men before, who killed the whores and the damned with act of cure in hand, take me please, get off bent knees, you can stand if you come back to Misery land, misers of the damned man, who farms human souls and potential, with deathly intention and unrelenting dilation of human sensation bent over worshiping death or life leaving crying eyes through theft.

I stick stones in lollipops made of glass, that look like men made of glass, standing up right with open mouth screaming white smoke, toke and choke on time lost, my cost is the tossed life of the sauced who living in strife consume life in toke of fire smoke. I am the act of spending time collecting dimes to spend on dimes that waste time by turning it on it’s head till you are dead form drifting through land of screaming men.

I am the eyes of friend, so frayed and decayed, he forgets his own name. I am slain by the hand of item time, or meth mind spelling words wrong, I am song rearranged by chopping into pieces, like rocks burned in glass isn’t life a gas? It is for the dead walking, forever talking of nothing, singing songs and saying words that have no meaning, just screaming, because we forget what it means to talk when we stalk death with lack of sleep, we are afraid to die so we lie down never and lie always and forever.

I am sad but glad to get out of myself, I see my generation on a shelf of caskets, and I am screaming your are dying not climbing. High yes, but high enough to die. Please get down, your mind is fizzing because it is breaking, there is no lifting in your shifting to zombie.

Come back down. Please, before you hit the ceiling and break into a thousand peices.

What happens those who trade time for items?

What happens to those who don’t remember might is might and mite is bug?

What happens to those who are them they speak of fearing with them being a method of OD?
Why can’t my generation see clearly that clear is blurry vision?

Because when you don’t sleep you have no dreams anymore.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/11/rdp-saturday-dreams/

I spent my time on rearranging words, I am human surge of pain in vain in vein. I am a heroine addicted to heroin bought from them or meth rearranged, I am brain drain from rearranging words- them sells meth, them is meth. How do you know they are out to get me? They sold it to me don’t you see? I buy time and sell mine back. I buy nothing but life spent in lack of time consuming dimes of nothing but pain stuffing into skin of ripping out with sensation of go without.

I am the act of breathing poison air, while staring into nothing, because I am not there, I consume joy in chemical form,

Ode to serotonin spent on the forlorn scorn of human addict to tragedy porn. I am buying dying while lying to self that this feels good, I am purchasing the act of attacking soul while doing what no one should. I am them whose method is to be, afraid and running and OD. I am the ER in screaming we are! I am the act of forming heroin scares. I am the dropped eternity from heroic female, I am the street that beats with feat in fete of defeat.

I am a bad dream no one has because we don’t sleep. I am the act of dying when you forget to eat. I am forgetting that dreams are wonder, I am hours spent on corner instead sleeping or in act of wonder, I am thunder that clashes in nightmare land that makes it hard to sleep or hard to stand. I am the death of an entire generation of dreamers or so it seems. I am Gen Y’s never ending nightmare fueled dream.

I am missing the tips of three fingers, my thumb, index, and middle.

Heroic I thought I was consuming heroines and heroin, fire desire met with firing fire, quested after with birds of fire, in lands of firestorm and hell on earth. We burn brightly from inside out, forgetting that we are made of skin, we inject into our veins reigns of raining fire. The poison poised in my veins is a silent passenger for years, burning me with searing numbness that quiets everything, paints my world with lack of noise, taste, smell, fear and love, I run through life thinking myself free, chained on a dog leash by dissing ease of must have more, misery bound to my shackles.

I never venture too far from my captors, fearing the loss of more. I am Oliver Twist in a twisted tail of orphan as adult man, but I am an orphan of the human race, whom I abandon recklessly, chasing beasts instead of those of skinned kind. I become consumed by consuming engulfed in the flames that now are my innards, I am like a tragic dinosaur, dead already, bone formed, walking fossil through land with falling off pieces. I lost three before I could hear them falling. I have no index to guide me, lack the courage to give a thumbs up and am too prideful to admit anything touches me enough to anger me.

Telling, too bad it is too late. Heroic fool.

Heroin tool.

I am the conquering masquerade-r, I am a parade of afraid ER. I am a defender of lying, or have been, but I am trying not to be, but the mask sticks to my skin, it has worn my confidence from within to without, I am terrified and have eyes that shout get out, because I feel nothing on my face. I am the act of man misplaced, identity erased.

The conquering man, forever roaming unknown land, does not stand but flees, does not desire to be free, simply desires to flee, because it is easier than being on bent knee.

I have realized recently how much time I spent on mine, doing favors in the darkness paid in darkness, with darkness, for darkness.

I am a stereotype in so many ways, in my desire to self assert difference, I paid homage to a culture that is dying, the crusading conquering man is doomed to forever stand away, and stay nowhere. I conquered nothing, but ability to be at peace, I chained myself thinking I was stronger than those who were so much freer than me.

I have noticed a change in my daughter, not just today, but ongoing. I am starting to realize that she is not just drawn to her mother, but looks to me too when I do not know she is watching me, I think a lot of it is she reads this thing when I am not on here, all 6 hours of it.

I am trying to keep it positive sometimes too, but I think the emotional honesty thing is good too. She seems to accept both of us for the flawed creatures we are, which is great because I can’t even fully accept myself yet. I am learning to, actually through her love, she is teaching me that hating myself does not but turn me inward and outward in cyclical resentment fighting them then me and then drinking or using alone.

I am trying to be honest for that very reason, but it is hard. I love lying. I don’t know why, power assertion is a big problem for me, I am such a fearful person, I thought I was the opposite, isolating myself felt like an act of dominance, like I was keeping others from hurting me, because I needed no one. I realize now that is not true, and was the opposite, the act of assertion being a raw fear based act.

I am sorry for this, and sorry that I will likely still do it, it is a hard habit to break.

Damien

That like a just dessert you can eat sinfully, it is gooey, and sticky candy, it taste of marshmallow and is so handy, it is wonderful sticky candy, my dad would make when I was young and my mom had gone for a run to the school, he would do it on Back to School Night, so me and my brother and sister would not fight, we would instead delight in divinity, and he would talk to us about the man in the sky and that when we were lucky enough to go up high we would not have to worry or to cry but delight in the power of pure light.

My mom was an atheist growing up, her trust was rusted, pain dusted, broken, sad, that is why she came to love my dad, but today, I am glad to say she is beginning to know peace, and I hope that some of this is from me, telling her I am sorry, that I meant none of the bad things I said, and that she can rest her head that gave birth to me, instead of soul staining blame disdain, I am trying to remember the pain I caused, so I don’t get lost in ideas of me, and remember she gave me this, the life, the love, desire for bliss.

I thank her everyday now, so she can lay her head down in peace every night, knowing I love her.

I am doing good today, I am having fun releasing rage through positive messages, I think it is better for me to do it this way. I have learned to laugh for the first time in my life, I am able to look in the mirror for the first time in my life. I can finally eat without wanting to throw up. I am doing so much better, but also prone to doing so much worse. I am learning to love myself for the first time, not in the way I was obsessed with myself before, but just an acceptance, and I think the best part of it is, I am getting farther and farther from the place I was that drove me to use. I don’t miss it at all.

I have even tried to romance my drug and drinks of choice, which sad to say were any of them, and it makes me sad and sick. I am so thankful most of the time, at the very least for the clarity of mind to be emotionally honest, and work everyday to be better, even if I fail at least I am trying, honestly for the first time in my whole life.

Thank you everybody, my higher power included, as always I am reminded of how much I owe this to everyone who helped me, especially those on this blog community. I love you and do not even know you, if you ever need me, I am always here.

Love,

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.

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?
De- it means of.

I will not give out my real name, because as I have said many a time I am insane, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I am changing it so I can stay me, and not DIE because I should have been born a guy, and instead of trying to take out another eye, I have two don’t worry, I am not good at surgery in a hurry, I fail at everything I do, and am a chicken a coup, look at me I made you soup.

Question, answer me,

No, oh baby I love you so, who do you speak to lunatic?

Fire of hearts desire to live, I am my own heart’s kid

Kidding me, that is the epitome of narcissism?

I know, baby you know this, just gotta love myself to avoid

Kiss of death, death

Dragon breath, my name is a riddle and a lie, a puzzle piece in the heat of July, a piece of past that makes me

Die, die, die

Roll me please? I am in dungeon and would like to spend these?

They are spare change, they buy me soul, they buy me parts that rebuild hole sole? They make me learn how to spell it too, so I can learn to say to

My name is Damien de Soto. Today, forever, my other names are broken, and irrelevant.

I played this in real life, with no wagon, sometimes no clothes- don’t ask it rains there a lot. I dried them while naked and unafraid, because all the people on that show are ****** and I would totally win, but probably go to prison afterwards, so obviously they are not going to let me on that show. I think they probably have to do a psych eval before the thing and schizophrenic addict, alcoholic, PTSD narcissists with anger issues and histories of violent arrests don’t pass psych evals.

I would totally win that show though because seriously, I lived in the Oregon dunes during the rainy season for the whole thing, 8 months in total, with nothing during the **** pandemic.

Okay, done with this now. Moving on.

Oh, and all my materials were scavenged and I walked from western to Southern Oregon, and have done the same thing walking from Oregon to Cali. Bam.

Done ego stroking. I am a **** sorry.

Damien and Amanda Fact not fiction.

Start following around members of my town with a boom box that plays classical music and see how long it takes for them to punch me.

I wonder how long it would take, I would try not to make it obvious at first and then… actually I would use a phone instead.. a boombox is too heavy and outdated, and I don’t have either thing because I sold all my possessions to buy drugs anyway.

I would follow them and change the music to be the opposite of what they were doing or play thematic Jaws or Jurassic Park music while they were trying to read. I have tried all this kind of stuff before, it is how you get a really quick trip to jail and very nifty if you need a way out of the rain and free meal. They know I do that now, so they just take me to the psych ward and threaten me with thorzine.

Meh. Oh well.

Damien

There is a line

He’s losing his mind, and I’m reaping all the benefits.

The wedding singer

That makes me laugh, for a horrible reason, I love to watch people become like me, and any time someone loses their mind in the movies I hear Nelson from The Simpsons and think welcome to Misery, ****, we love your company, we being me, myself and I… or the royal we, according to Walter on The Big Lebowski, who is basically me at any diner in the area I live in, and the reason why I can’t go to a lot of them now, **** it. It kind of *****, but is hilarious at the same time. One of the times they threw my drunk *** out I took my friends full plate of fries outside and threw it at the glass door which cracked, and then ran into the bushes and stood their talking myself down for thirty minutes while drinking fire ball to calm down.

Insanity and why I needed to get sober, because I no longer have friends due to all this. They grew tired of the **** as funny as it may have been, it is not safe for those who want to have a life, I guess.

I think I am funny, although I am continuing to try to be less of an ***.

I wasn’t going to do it, but I have just spent the last however long, rocking back and forth about to freaking vomit. This sucks. I am so glad it will be over soon, if anyone is wondering this is happening because I compromised my kidneys, liver, bladder and had to get my gall bladder removed because of drugs and alcohol.

I can’t feel my hands that well because of lack of circulation due to drug use, and I am missing three finger tips. I feel like trash.

I get the infections from chronic MRSA which I have because of being an IV drug user for 8 years or so.

I have stomach damage from bad vodka, and whiskey, so I have acid reflux a lot, and I have a tooth that is killing me because I ripped someone off and they punched me in the face and split an already split in half tooth all the way to the root, which I left like that for 6 months.

Sorry

Damien.

I am also reminded to freakin’ eat, I just felt sick and realized that was the stupid problem.

I mentioned before something about red lights that I would see on occasion somewhere else, that I don’t like to speak of here in Misery. It is a location, which does not need to be discussed in specificity to its exact locality.

The strangest thing about this place is that it seems forever set in motion on a trajectory of the damned. There is some sinister purpose that pollutes everything in the area, from the needle filled streets, to the garbage lined sidewalks, to the very eyes that look at you with silent disdain. The land is full of angry souls, reeking of resentment and writhing in such visible agony that is only not visible to them, what is truly terrifying behind all of this, is most of these people speak with the same voice, as if possessed by something, or thinking all the same thoughts, I am not sure what it is, and do not mean to suggest only demonic possession. I relay only what I have seen.

I am going to leave it at that for now because my cat is losing it, and it is very distracting, and as always my stomach hurts.

Later

Damien

I am standing outside, having run to the point of exhaustion. I am not frustrated, not angry but experience a pure elation beyond any drug derived fixation with human contrived elation from moral degradation.

It was at this time, my mind began to become entwined with the idea that maybe something divine would not be something I would mind but instead would bring great peace of mind and body, sure it would mean following rules, but that would be better than buying tools from fools meant to loose because they choose to deal in ruse and pain and act of soul staining disdain for the having of human brain attached to dying body, that dies continuously because it is not mine, it is a gift of the universe and a soul vessel for the soul I have that was given to me as well, so I say damn that business of Hell. I reap what I aim to tell, and I aim to tell good now, so I can hear thou, and do not die like slaughtered mare, or dying hare. I am content to live and bear whatever burden bestowed, and be able to look down and still have toes, I reap what I sow now, and do not steal anymore or kill or lie or make ill.

I was running for so long, when I would run I would hear this song, it was a collection of noises not really song, just noises piecing together by meth’s ding dong of my brain which had gone insane, and though that way I do remain, it is not for lack of trying to, in every single thing I do just seek to be true and improve with love of me and of Rei, I seek truth in everything I say. I no longer wish to go away, but here in Misery do I stay, until my soul I do redeem… which from everything my mind can glean now seems possible, as well. One day I may no longer live in Hell.

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

As you can tell, this is no longer co-authored. I took it over, because I am a jerk. Rei has told me she doesn’t need it anymore, because I am no longer being a jerk because I am using it now. So the site has come full circle.. as for my other side, she is becoming me. I am becoming one with her, we have stopped talking to each other as much because we are becoming each other and it feels wonderful. My wife loves me, my family in our little future world is doing good and the hands that write this have hope through her imaginary friend and current self that is me, that she will be better and is getting better every day.

As much as I complain, I remain so very thankful for everything that has happened recently.

I love my freakin’ life and so does Amanda.

Thank you guys on this site for your part in this.

The author.

Am I to be sick my whole life? I know this sounds like me complaining but, I physically feel awful, like usual. I am also speaking for my co-author who is riddled with the same malady as me. I know we deserve this, and I have been told it takes six months for someone with my history to heal in body and mind. I am okay with that, I guess. It is just tough to know this, but then again sick is not the word for what I feel, not well is I guess more like it. I am told it takes six months to not be discouraged by lack of normal in how I feel.

I don’t even remember what I used to feel like when I was normal. I was sick and so was my co-author long before we started using at 13. I have hydrocephalus and a litany of mental illnesses. I think if nothing else I am excited that there is a chance to ever feel normal at all, because I have never had that, and I would love that. It sounds so insanely sanely peaceful.

I am fighting to make that a reality, every second of my life, it is worth all of this, despite my stupid whining. To anyone else doing the same thing, please stay strong you got this.

The mist rises over the water, the wetness dancing in teardrops on my arms, painting over them scarred and pulsing with poison, kissing my skin with the soul quenching waters of the tears of an unknown higher being, higher than I could ever be right now, because of the highness being a station of above-ness not destined to the tragic fixated state of an elated man.

I stare out into nothing, looking at my reflection in the dead bodies in the water, drifting into the distance, I find them because I know where they dump them, because I am polluted. I am the pollution of a river that runs with the waters of man, uniting with tears of an all-knowing that is nothing and everything at the same time, or everything I try so desperately to inject into my eyes with a spoon that is not sharp enough to cut through my skin, I draw power into the caging madness of the eye of a storm dilated into liquid chaos propelled through the tiny head of a sowing needle the dots the I’s of my eyes of despise.

I stand there crying and laughing, for a moment it is almost like it alright because I feel nothing and everything, but I am just high, and it will pass, and I will be again thrown to my knees remembering the crying of those around me as they watch me and mourn for me, and responding out of fear, I pull them under,

Please don’t leave me alone.

They drown.

I tell myself I don’t need them anyway, but it is a lie

I am dying inside every second I do this, which is why this only a reflection on the madness I saw, while staring into nothing.

I am so amazed by the tragic beauty in the next room, who can look in my eyes, and run away when I can’t even look in the **** mirror for 10 seconds without crying.

Later

Damien

I feel like the decision to seek professional help is going to help me going forward. I am learning through getting to know her better that my daughter is a lot like me and I can’t bring myself to keep doing this to her, because whether or not I like it she is watching me do this to myself. I know I have a right to feel anything I want about this, but sitting on the floor wallowing in self-pity propelled by self-loathing is not the answer either. I am thinking this might actually make it possible for me to maintain some kind of progress and move on with my life.

I might be able to finally do something that way that is not so entirely self focused. I am going to make an effort to try to be less selfish in any way I can, which means I am going to have to give up on the excuse of it being just the way my brain works, because if that is true I would have to say I don’t want it to be this way and I would try to fix it anyway. I don’t want to be a source of worry for my family anymore. I want to try to be someone they can turn to, as well as someone who turns to them. I owe them that if anything.

I am so sorry for my outbursts and for making anyone watch this, if you were watching it. I forget I am not alone on here sometimes.

With love,

Damien

So now you know a little more about our parallel universe, Misery, a Hell for those damned to be here, to account for their sins, while in the purging process of their souls. I am being held here for the time being, torturing myself because I did not have my memory entirely before. I was a man possessed by the demonic force of resentment. I am not in any way saying this releases me from responsibility. I am accountable for everything I did. It was me acting under the possession of an inner demon. I think that is why my name is what it is.

I am supposed to learn to get out of my Cain kingdom of Misery and walk back to the Garden of Eden, with Rei, my ray of light, the mercy of my soul from a higher power of forgiveness and mercy. I get it now, that I was buying and selling hellish fire and being a grim reaper for the forces of Hell, that live within the souls of addicts or those damned to a life of addiction to their own pain.

I am speaking out this way, because in the throws of the driving force of desire, I was a passenger in my own body, very much similar to demonic possession.

I hope you understand,

With sincere apologies,

Forever guilty

Damien

(THIS POST IS INTENSELY GRAPHIC AND MEANT TO ILLUSTRATE DRUG ADDICT MENTALITY AND DESPERATE DESIRE TO GET A FIX) IT IS INTENSE AND GRAPHIC DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SERIAL KILLER, AMERICAN PSYCHO HORROR DAMIEN REPRESENT RESENTMENT AND THE SERIAL KILLER LIKE STYLE, THIS IS AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE HELL LIKE SITUATION ADDICTS FACE WHEN FACING DEMONS INNER AND OUTER LIKE DAMIEN

I am personifying addiction, but also making an illusion to Christian demonic possession with Damien as the possessed like the character in The Omen, except he is possessed by addiction and heroines are his victims.

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE.

ENTER ADDICT HELL

SIMULATED MISERY

WE LOVE YOUR COMPANY

This is done this way because words speak louder than pictures.

Listen, sweetie don’t make a sound, wait stop screaming baby, it’s okay, I will make it go away.

Prick, I like to play with sowing tools. They seem to make this so much easier you

FOOLS

It’s funny, now that I have your money, I wonder if your day should be more sunny, but I like color of your skin so much, I think I want to

BEEP BEEP
OH… that’s right we are near that bridge, I wonder if you would wake up if I do this,

You are dangling over the edge of a bridge, your body loosely flapping like a chicken over the side, heroin addicts are so light when they get this deep in, too bad you wanted better shit baby, or maybe you would have

Smack.

****

Didn’t mean to drop the ****.

****
This is not going to be easy.

Your leg looks broken, and you seem like you might still be breathing, wonder what would happen if I did this,

I stab you in the throat, and you start choking, as if your overdosing but you are not, you slowly release this and panic, and I think it would be funny and worth the waste of drugs if this looked like panicked SUICIDE.

I stab you in the stomach, in a way that it looks like you did it yourself, which I don’t remember because I black out shortly after doing some of you in the form of injecting

HEROIN
I like my girls dead and in black and white.

I throw your used up body over the guard rail, this is that area that everyone dumps the bodies of the damned anyway, and I figure by the time they find you they will not be able to tell you from any of the other street junkies no one cares about.

Click, oh your dealer called baby, too bad your dead, went to the wrong guy.

Now, I have 40 bucks and you’re dead, too bad so sad, maybe if you had 100 you would have been worth my time.

What is the last thing you learned?

It makes me extremely uncomfortable sometimes to reveal what I have revealed thus far on my site. I write in stream of consciousness to process my own issues, and it is really helping me deal with my own self-loathing and remembering to love others through channeling rage onto the screen, but it also teaching me how despicable my thoughts are, by having to see them on screen. I like this about it though, I like revealing to myself how wrong it is to think the things I think, because they help no one.

This is helping as part of a larger process of learning to deal with rage, which I in former years, days, moments, months, seconds, etc. have not dealt with at all. I am kind of like a baby learning it can cry, because prior to this, I cried by consuming drugs and alcohol to forget I was a human being.

I hated the process, but being an addict who saw no hope in recovery because I never tried it, I didn’t think it would work for me.

I am learning I want to be more positive and better, and learn to love myself and forgive myself and then do the same with others, thank you for the continued opportunity to process my dark metaphorical thoughts, it is saving my life. Blowing things out of proportion helps me realize how ridiculous I sound and dial back resentment.

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

Isn’t that neat?

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

BECAUSE MINE IS NOT.

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

I am not your girl friend honey.

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

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

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

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

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

I loved you.

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

You only wanted me for derived sensation.

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

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

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

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

DEATH
RESENTING EVER LAST BREATH

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

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

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

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

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

You want her dead give me a gun.

I think I am in the process of finally clearing a long term MRSA infection from my body that cost me three finger tips. Most notably half of my thumb on my right hand, which was a ***** because that one was my fault entirely. I refused to go to the hospital because I was enjoying getting high.. I have been an idiot most of my life. I thought I could clear it on my own by using bleach and peroxide, which I used to literally seer a hole into my scalp through which you could see my skull, no lie. I am insane, in my defense… I was very high for all of this, and had no idea that I was literally digging a hole in my head with a pair of pliers.

I am just happy I am not insane today, the further I get away from meth and heroin/crack/acid/booze/painkillers/cocaine the better. I am tired of spending hours trying to kill myself slowly.

You can’t tell I did that, looking at me, because obviously, that matters narcissistic ***.

I don’t know why I felt I needed to share this.

Later Damien

Don’t mess with me buddy, I am crazy, I curse and I bite, like a rabid cat in the night, I also come with scabbies and rabies. I am an infectious disease, I am the Bubonic Plague of the displeased, I am raw, I am vile, I spit acid bile, and only snakes do I attract.

I will make sure weak at knees you, because your not a hero but heroin scar, shot in vein red with color, pain to father and mother, you are a vile sinning creature.

You are the one who speak of, I speak to you disease who reeks of disgusting resentment, so filthy and hell bent, carrying the souls of the lost. I will teach you the meaning of toss.

In the trash you will go, like those carelessly thrown, by the eye of a needle and spoon. For things like you I no longer make room, not addicted

To act of consume. I have found peace and serenity and will no longer be taunted by the sight of the moon.

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/147335988/posts/14253

I speak with timorous voice, I am sorry I am a coward I don’t have a choice, so lacking any courage I speak of being discouraged and propelled by the resentment of self. I am a very selfish creature, destruction of myself has been main feature, of life fated to die, trying to stab out my eyes because bravery is something I am lacking. I am prone to vicious attacking, if you know me, you see that’s armor I am stacking in loads piled high stacked up to the sky, I build fortress around my dark eyes.

I do not sleep because I am scared, I used things to keep my lids bare, not a lid on them would be, because sleep I didn’t need, I was addicted to running in fear.

Now I am different today, in a place with a door do I stay, I don’t have to run, I have learned to have fun, and banished the pain in my sore legs.

No matter what I did she would not go away,

I would taunt and have fits, and run and I’d cry and by my side she always would stay.

This used to really annoy me.

I would think to myself that she would surely,

Leave eventually so I gave up on the idea of woman go

And now I don’t like life without her.

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

Yes, see my point? Cool name.

Psychotic name choosing strategy.

Yeah, says the guy named Damien, omen.

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

I know I named you ****.

****

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

Peace in peices,

Love you

Damien

I have the most bad *** cat in the entire world, he makes weird noises, gets angry really easy and swats you if you don’t do exactly what he wants he doesn’t have a name, we all call him The Guy. He is the best guy in the entire world. He was angry at me last night, so he slept out here in the living room, so I just sang him a song, and pet him and now we are cool again, he made a weird sound and looked at me like he loved me, so I think we have made amends, heh.

I am looking at the painting of a boat right now, it is a rowboat which terrified me as a child, I was always afraid of getting in those, because I don’t know how to do anything, I can swim though, I am just afraid of deep stagnant water, which is why it is the best place to drop dead thoughts or you know things I don’t want to think about like bodies.. or my metaphor for people I should have cared more about and stopped from doing heroin before they ended up dying in their dying parent’s basement. I miss you Sue, you didn’t deserve to die alone and afraid, and that shit was good, but not good enough to be worth never seeing your smiling face again, I loved you so much you fragile creature. You made me feel like a human being for the first time in my whole life……. I hate myself.

Wash. rinse. repeat. I am such a basket case.

I like Cadbury eggs, they are really good.

Peace and love.

Damien

The late hours of the night are so much more peaceful now, thank you God.

I am so grateful to be sitting here, able to get up without people thinking I am going into the bathroom to fire heroin into my arm, I am thankful they are seeing a change in me, because I want so bad for my existence to cause no more pain on this planet, than it already has, thank you God and to anyone who has helped me in any of this.

I am elated to be in the quiet of my house with my family sleeping soundly instead of killing themselves of me killing me, and me being pissed because I think they are being selfish for not wanting my arms to stop being covered with sleeves in the summer when I hate long sleeves but I am cold all the time, no longer.

I am so grateful for this. I am able to type right now instead of having a bed time like a child because I am no longer in a shelter.

I am so happy.

Thank you.

Damien

Can it!

Okay.

I am spinning back and forth space, thinking man isn’t this great, I am no longer doing anything to cause harm, missing hands no longer missing arm

Cheap shot

No, it wasn’t it cost 20$

Every time I fired up desire to live. I am disgusting.

I am glib I am mean I am ad lib?

Add liberation, an activity devised to be liberating, even though I am pretty sure that is not how you spell that, but to lazy to check that, so don’t judge me, I know everything, even though I don’t.

I am learning okay.

Yes, I see that.

You are me, of course you see that.

Lunatic.

You are talking to yourself again.

I know, I am.

At least it is on a screen not a street corner scaring people and at least now I am just insane not high and insane threatening people with posed presence into giving up cash to a man holding a sign at 3 am.

Yeah that too.

I gross my own self out.

Me too.

Thanks jerk.

You’re welcome self.

Right back at you.

I like double shots too.

Heh.

Below the belt.

Yeah.

I am able to bring myself to eat without having to go through the chaos spiral of self-loathing that has powered my relationship with food. I have always, up until now I mean preferred the taste of bitter or flavorless mind-numbing soul staining poison. I think this is because of how much I used to hate myself. I am so glad, to realize how much of cycle of horror this whole thing. I really had no idea that I was drinking/using to forget what I did to drink and use to forget.

I don’t think my wife feels the same about herself, because she was just a silent passenger, and doing what she had to in order to stay well. I was the one behind all the ****. I know this now. I didn’t know it before, I remember telling her I would stop if she did, thinking she wouldn’t notice my absence or my perpetual love of long sleeves.

It sort of feels like this is the first time I have ever been a human being in my entire chaotic life, and I know I have said it before, but a lot of that comes from the interaction on here. I have never been treated so kindly in my entire life by strangers. I hate to say that my family had always been there, but they had, me and Amanda are the same person, just in two separate universes for the moment, getting closer to being the same one though, every day.

With love,

Damien

It is the best thing in the world sometimes, and one of the reasons I do not miss sweat drenched sticky frog skin meth covered itchy scratch me writhing in dirt filth.

I am so happy to be clean and sober and away from that insanity. I am almost done with dressing the decaying wounds of the rotting infection that is going away finally. Stupid MRSA. I hate you.

That will teach me to never poke my heroes with pins again.

Heh. That was a horrible joke, and very reflective actually, I just said my heroes were my veins, nice metaphor for vanity and insanity. I like that one, this is why I have this thing. I like myself a little more now.

I am enjoying watching the cat that walked in here and decided it was his new house, he lives in both universes and is my and Amanda’s cat because our universes are merging slowly. I like it, it’s kind of like melting, except it feels like a massage for your brain?

I am done, I no longer have anything to say.

Peace.

Damien

The best day I have had in my life so far, I feel so much better, which will most likely last about 21 minutes or something till something changes, and I go through some other psycho breakdown.

There we go. 21 seconds of peace, before I snap at myself, on the internet, and now I am remembering how shitty I feel. **** it.

But, still best day ever, which shows me how bad my days have been before, I love everyone on this website. It is really saving my pathetic life.

It is so quiet here right now, my wife is in the next room, watching some show with my daughter, we had dinner together, which was weird. I think they are strange.

I love them though, just don’t understand why they like me.

Later

Damien

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
Turn the pages
What can I help you with?
Nothing I am fine, why do I look like I need help?!
Sorry, sir, didn’t mean to…
Well ya did, get the **** away.
Sorry just trying to…
Oh, sorry I am a jerk.

Damien, alcoholic addict in stages and phases reflecting forever in Narcissistic ever quest for self reflection

I mean that wholeheartedly, talking to myself helps me, and I am hoping maybe it will help someone else to see my displayed vanity insanity typed over and over, and it is better to talk to myself on here then cry myself to sleep, or get drunk or high because I am scared. Okay, not going to erase that, it felt very good to write that.

I have a very hard time admitting weakness,

Can I help you with something?

This says to my brain

1. You are paying attention to me
   • Stop looking at me **** it.
   • I am doing fine, if you only knew what my life was like you would look this ****** too, so stop reminding me of how pathetic I am by implying I need anything from you.
2. You have noticed something I am doing that illustrates that there would be any reason I need help.
   • I do everything to the best of my ability at the time, which is very poorly because I am a drug addict and an alcoholic who sucks at everything except engaging in fits of rage or joy on the internet, and I say that lightly because displays of affection towards myself are disgusting. 😉
   • You are telling me something I am doing is inadequate which makes me mad immediately because why are you looking for inadequacy in someone you don’t know
3. You think I need anyone other than myself.
   • This makes me feel uncomfortable because I don’t want to want or need people, because then they can hurt me.
   • I am terrified of wanting or needing anyone.
   • I would rather be rejected immediately
   • Kindness of strangers annoys me, because I am just going to say the wrong thing and cause discomfort for everyone.

Peace.

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

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

Shutting up.

The idiot

Damien

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
I will try

I am not a nice guy, there is nothing redeemable about me, really that I can think of other than pen and sword, I am a really horrible, despicable creature. I feel that way anyway. I always hated being asked anything because as much as I hate to lie, because I don’t want to, I am so good at it, and I am so used to.. I just know how to do that, and only that, and I just can’t do it anymore, I want more than anything else to be better, and make up for every spoon that came with poison when I should have never been encouraging my friends to kill themselves, I have lost so many people and felt nothing, and now I feel it all at the same time, and I am so overcome with the whole thing, and I don’t know what to do because I am not depressed, I am happy, just terrified that I will ruin everything.

So, I will just move forward, but it is so hard, because I hate myself for every life I cost in active addiction every person I have enabled instead of stopping, they were my friends, how can I do this if I couldn’t stop thinking of me for one second and say stop doing what is killing you.

BECAUSE YOU WERE MAKING MONEY OFF THEM. ADDICT LIAR

I know, I just. I…. am a piece of trash, and I don’t… I want to..

I am.. nothing. I have nothing. I am so sorry, I am so sorry.

I love everyone now. I am so sorry.

Damien

That’s cool. I am happy for you.

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

Just be nice.

I don’t know how

Did anything happen?

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

Just chill out, she loves you.

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

Just calm down.

Okay, I will.. or I will try.

Thanks, me too….

De-fence less, I am to you, you walked by me, and touched my spine, and instead of the normal desire to rip yours out, I am overcome with electricity, I love you intensely, and I am not scared anymore about it, I feel overcome by quiet for the time being.

Being is wonderful for this moment, for this second, I am entranced with the dance that goes on with the corner of your eyes, fixating for once, on meditation to not look to closely, because I am so afraid of myself, I am so pliable, I am putty you or gum on your shoe, and you leave me there,

liking the sticky feeling as you walk and I wonder why, you beautiful creature, want this, tragic display of projected insanity anywhere near you, I deserve nothing and you give me everything, and I love you with every fiber of my being for that, you are changing me Rei, making me realize it is not weak for me to love you.

You give me legs to stand again, and I don’t think I will forget that ever again.

Please bare with me, I love you so much, I will change, I promise. I am working on it. I will do whatever I can to make everything better, I am so sorry for everything I put you through, I was selfish and cruel and I love you so much, please stay with me.

Damien

PS. Even if I lose my mind temporarily, I mean this with my whole heart that is just starting to realize how much I love you. You are a beautiful human being and you have made me believe in something higher than I could ever be, and for that I am eternally grateful.

I am on fire

I am an empire of clearly d

Fueled insanity in humanity

That stands to be over taken, I am not mistaken that I have decided to resurrect the erect shun

of my fellow man, with the act give me hand.

I need flesh please touch me I exist in lust please just

TOUCH TOUCH ME
I AM SO TRUSTING DON’T You

see I am so in love with me because I am really in love with you because I am really in love with

NOTHING
I NEED YOU
I CAN

NOT
I am the knotted soul of the web of the chaotic society, who gives shoes to man who cannot stand because we

CUT OF HIS LEGS
CHOP CHOP

This cleaving deceiver wishes to open kegs with a sword

UNTOWARD FOREWARNING I AM FOREBODING I AM LOATHING
But I am also love, don’t you see the wings of dove

Haahhaaasewlkgo;nwqojgjow;

That feels good. I only spell because it gives me should, I live or

should I…

I am done with this one too. Bored now.

In state of

REVIVE
SORRY BABY STILL ALIVE
HOPE THAT JIVES WITH YOUR PLANS

Vile creature I will kill you where you stand.

You can’t anymore because I am man

Resurrected as woman too, I am two people don’t you know, kill me twice and I won’t go

I am not very slow, I am running fast as SPELL

Ing…. no casters here, I am bad at that you see the only spell I cast is that on me, done with eating souls and digging holes, that are really exchanged cash

Exchanging laughs with dealers of night and day and clarity that is a lie because it comes with skin decay.

If I dig a hole in my head will it purge poison out,

Look in the mirror fool, you only have two eyes don’t rip them out, you are on a chaos fueled hell fire ride and when you get off your eyes and fingers don’t grow back

I can still smack.

Smack. Smack. Heroine

I am

Heroin I am.

No your not, your skin is hot with the blood of life you fool

Don’t be fueled there is no permanence in a death ride vacation to a state of fixation on sensation, the ride blows up a metaphor for live spent on

DIE DIE DIE GET ME HIGH HIGH HIGH I CRY
You cry because you can’t tell

Yes, I can this is reflection on the detection of my erect

Shunning of the act of fixation with JUMP OFF RIDE
I AM A BIRD WITH WINGS TO FLY
YOU ARE A HUMAN
So am I.

I AM YOU
I am confused.

Me too, baby. Me too.

As much it pains me to do it I have to say, that writing out my personal demons helps me preform a sort of soul cleansing. I feel awful about all the things I have allowed happen in front of me, and I hope that my method is not too terrifying for at least certain people. I am just writing what works for me to stay sober every day. I am still the same selfish addict and a lot of this is

FLASH NEGATIVE
FLASH POSITIVE

Meditate

Talk. I am sorry to anyone who is disturbed by it.

I am in the process of working towards being a better person, and I am still an abrasive ****.

Damien

TRIGGER WARNING- EXPLICIT CONTENT

( Explanation- Method)

Abstract Art with a purpose and strange method, to wake up the sick and suffering who haven’t changed their mind by reflections on joy and pain.

Read me first, please.

Explanation:
This piece uses the analogy of a serial killer torturing captive victim to personify addiction because addicts in active addiction are captive and captivated by the captor in much the same way that a person experiences Stockholm Syndrome, the addict experiences desire to use or drink even though the drug and it’s torturous dispenser torment the victim.

Methodology: Meditative piece to do two things

• provide clear thought through meditation on pain experienced during active addiction through over amplification of how bad it was done through personification in this case, personified addiction/serial killer tormenting captive victim. ‘
• This approach also illustrates to judging eyes the demons, in the rawest form that taunt the addict doing this
  • Creating empathy for those who were faced with lack of understanding
  • showing society the clear picture of what exists on the street in effort to aide full transformation of dual diagnosis and PTSD individuals
    • We are dealing with human beings here they have mental scars-PTSD and damaged thought processes.
    • They need understanding, and very specific care specialized to them
      • some people need extra help not as simple as you think, they are not selfish they are struggling.. be understanding.

I am the ex·or·cism of person demons, that are

ME IN AGONY EXPERIENCED IN screaming in words on scream, I am mean I am green, I do not speak what I mean I speak the exorcism

Got it that time, whore.

Of personalized demons.

Isn’t it precocious that those prone to overdoses are also those prone to an inner bind of

I WILL NOT RESIGN TO MY FATE, BECAUSE YOU ARE UNKIND
I AM entwined in a constant human bind of a deranged mind because I hate

Change, and I love it

GIVE ME MONEY

Isn’t it funny? Sweetie…… how I can choose to speak to you so sweetly, because I love you so, oh baby please don’t go, I love you so…..

GET OUT
I will rip your eyes OUT
with my hands, I will claw at your bare legs with finger nails dug into skin with present

INFECTION
Beyond detection because I hid it from you

I am an addict sorry, I know not what I do,

Oh baby I love you so please do not go.

RUN

I am no fun

I am the roller coaster dice ride of ice slide, of moments before you die, a fixation with falling and screaming

KILL ME PLEASE I AM ON MY KNEES BABY PLEASE

No. I love you so, I want to stay with you forever and ever honey,

Because isn’t funny, my reality is runny, so I like it when you are too.

DRIP DRIP DRIP
Oh did I hurt you.

Smack, I loved heroin with my heroines, I love to add it to your blood

FOOL DON’T WASTE IT ON HER
MURDERER

Damn it. I told you I don’t care how white you are, you answer back,

ANSWER ME

Smack.

Do you hear the birds singing, I am bored with this, I will dispose of you later, I am going outside.

PSYCHO PATH

The path is fine liar…. there is NOTHING WRONG WITH ME.

I AM FINE DON’T YOU SEE! LEAVE ME ALONE. I CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING BECAUSE I DON’T CARE.

You can’t hurt me, you are not even there,

STOP SCREAMING YOU ARE DEAD
I DON’T hear anything you said, because baby I am sorry to tell your aching head, you got into the wrong spot on the wrong day, with the wrong guy so you had to die.

CRASH

Oh, I am sorry I don’t know what I was doing, you are free to go. Have a nice day.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/50680500/posts/4593906113

I have been granted time through this challenge, which is the best thing you can ever give another human being, I don’t care what else anyone gives me. Time is the most valuable gift of all. I am talking with the potential, reality doesn’t matter for second, I have the potential to be heard, through white colored words that are carved into the dark chaos of a black screen.

I this psycho etching, I see progress in what I choose to write about, because I am not attacking my viewer this time, simply realizing how much it always mattered to me to be heard, in my chaos screaming world. I think this is why I scream so much on here. I am a human being used to being silent, and speaking only with eyes that say so much, but also say nothing at all because they do not have mouths, obviously.

I want to thank you for providing this, buddy.

That sounds gross, when I right it out, sarcasm is annoying.

I am trying here, at least this one is about something slightly, more positive than the last chaotic hell fire post of insanity. I feel slightly better now, thank you. You have provided the gift of peace.

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
None, I love talking about myself, I am a narcissist.

Amanda

Yes, I just simply don’t care.

Do you know how that sounds?

Yes, I just simply don’t care.

Why?

I don’t know. I just don’t.

Can you try?

No? It doesn’t work. Don’t you think I would have tried by now, I am doing the best I can here.

I think of insane **** and writing it down into a story helps me, because I am a fictionalized character of a girl with a mental illness who rights of an invisible man who does the horrible fly by the seat of your pants **** of nightmares so she can, sorry they? They right, baby?

Yes.

He rights this down so I don’t have nightmares and hate myself. I have no control over my thoughts sometimes. I can control behavior, but racing thoughts…. haven’t figured out that one yet, and that is what this is. I don’t focus on editing when I type this so I can document to myself and my viewer mental change through recovery.

Which is strange, given all I have revealed to you about what I think about. It is strange to me too as well. I think I may be getting better? I don’t know really, at least I starting to make a step in the right direction. I think it is good I taught my daughter something in all this, I am not sure exactly what. Maybe, it was my way of showing her I have some level of psychotic self-control. Honestly, a lot of it was that I for the first time wanted her to not be afraid of me. I don’t know if this is the first time I thought that actually.

I think it might be the first time I thought of anyone, but myself at all, but who knows…. I have no idea what I say on this thing.

I am just documenting feeling really. There is nothing behind it other than a desire to be less ******* psychotic so my family is not afraid of me?

I think I am making steps in the right direction at least, they are no longer afraid of me going places by myself, which is amazing because I like walking in early morning alone, and have always had a “”silent passenger” with me watching me, until recently.

I like being able to watch people, who don’t know me, because normal human behavior is rather mysterious to me, and I am trying to learn about us as a species from the outside of viewing of my fellow, I don’t know fellows?

Later,

Damien

So I officially didn’t kill the **** after being given permission to. I thought about it. I really did, actually, not that I need to tell you that.. I wrote about it on here, so obviously I thought about it. I didn’t kill him for a strange reason. I like the way he avoids eye contact with me now. It is fun. I think I might be able to make the little **** walk into a car just by looking at him. Then I didn’t officially kill the poor *******. Or, I get to torment a **** the rest of my life, in the name of defending my daughter, I am hoping for the latter, because it sounds fun.

I am just going to act like I don’t know the guy now and stand behind him awkwardly sometimes to make him look like the writhing worm he is, so no more women will be messed with the way he messed with my daughter.

I figure if he doesn’t kill himself, I have fun bored game to play the rest of my life.

This is psychotic I know, but progress… maybe.

At least I don’t have to clean blood out from under my finger nails for hours. I can smell that right now. That is the only time it grosses me out.

With love,

Damien

I am going to bed, I think it was much more effective overall to talk to that **** than it would have been to do anything awful too him.

I like being a little bit kinder, I can sleep easier.

With love,

See Clearly.

I think that was the most fun, I have ever had in my life.

I don’t think that guy will be bothering her or any other girl again.

I simply talked to the **** the same way I talk on here and he ran screaming.

Much more satisfying, and now I don’t have to wash my hands over and over for days.

I like dealing with rage. It is fun.

They are sleeping now, and I didn’t have to wake them up, it is nice, I think in a strange way I may have done the right wrong thing?

Damien/Amanda

I am the defense of every man who dies where he stands, which is right next to this garbage can, but his name was Dave, and he had a family once, and he was loved and has a mom and dad who tried hard to save him but he is sick with addiction.

I am fiction on a mission to create empathy for all the lost, a woman who identifies as man, screaming where I stand, for all those I saw back then who didn’t have mom or best friend to save them like I did, so they are lying, crying, dying by garbage can, and no one cares? Really, is that all you have to say?

You did drugs now go away?

Is that what we have come to? Is that what my generation gets as a happy ending.

You are selfish. We are diseased by the dissing ease of addiction.

We are screaming in fiction diction.

I am a writer on a mission to show you clearly what I saw, when I saw people walk away from me when I just wanted someone to give me a glass of water?

Is that how you would treat your daughter or your friend, your brother or sister? Is it?

Then why treat anyone like that?

Every life matters.

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

My name is See Clearly

How do you create sympathy for the unloved man.

You say you are a lunatic with weapon who will KILL THEM WHERE THEY STAND.

And then sympathetic society in its cage so please wait no, don’t touch them no. I see so clearly now, it was me that was the enemy.

I am a horror writer that uses method acting in blog style format to simulate sympathy

Because I am a narcissist that sees clearly how to create empathy.

My name is Rei, well clearly, my name is Amanda, my name is IRRELEVANT.

I am an act put on to show reader what is dealt to the men of the street, hands flung in the air saying don’t worry eat potted meat. I am the bringer of sensation of fixation with death in a society bent to sell theft of the lives of the cost, this is what it costs. It costs the screaming of sad souls on words on page. I am a simulation on the internet of human rage.

I am the forever caged man of society’s garbage can.

None of this is real baby, it is an act of the sensation of

FEEL FEEL

You feel me honey?

Isn’t their reality

Oh, so sunny.

Nobody cares, baby.

I am every man in tent hiding on the street with bent posture and dirty feet. My name is lurker on street eating potted meat. I am the eyes of the despised lurking high in the skies but sinking low, I am the act of sleep in snow. I am please baby, nooooooooooooooooooo!

Did you think it was pretty when you hurt in the city, honey?

WAS IT FUNNY????

ALL OVER MONEY????
ALL THIS OVER THAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have no name, I am the human stain. YOU ARE NOTHING. I AM DISTRUSTING YOUR SOUL BECAUSE I WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.

In the crying skies lies lying despise of men dead, with severed head they can’t see.

THEY SEE NOTHING

So distrusting. I have no idea what I am even saying????????????????????

Well, that was interesting. I am bored with it now.

End simulation

sorry kisses, honey

just a narcissist transfixed by the kiss of human sensation.

(TRIGGER WARNING: POETIC ANALOGY MURDER TO FACILITATING CONTINUED DRUG USE)