I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
She was kissed by sun, and tattooed by shade, her skin bathed in light, and graced by its going away, she was covered with mist in times of rain, never feeling human pain.
I danced with her once, under the moon, her face made me cry, her love a monsoon, the deepness of her eyes, feeling like madness, bringing out my inner sadness, like caverns to the soul, her eyes were so deep, staring into your face, baby, made me weep.
I loved her for a minute, a second, but then, I was thrown back to the shore, by the wave of defense.
I know, I am not trying to, actually I think I am trying to… I don’t really know why, I like saying the wrong things, it scares people away from me.
I get it, but come on dude, all day…
I just don’t want to go to the freaking doctor tomorrow, so instead of freaking out and crying about it you are telling creepy stories about hitting on women in inappropriate ways?
I guess so, I thought it was appropriate, in that I was trying to get the poor girl to hate drugs as much as I did.
It didn’t even happen so, you’re not a hero.
I am not even going to say what I am thinking…
Good because you’re not that drug either…
Burn me please,
I am on my knees,
I miss your sweet carress
Oh, one who looked so pleasant in a white dress.
I love you so much, you are so great, ever so sorry we no longer relate, you are so lovely, I am so sad, so very tragic you made me so mad, I loved you so dearly, we related so well, you made me feel like I’d escaped fom pure hell, you were so perfect… now you are
I am so sad I knew you so long, I wanted it to work out so sad it did not, so very tragic our love was so hot, it made me so happy to see
Clearly that you were such a miserable peice of ****, so glad, so sad, too bad, baby, enjoy the cash you stole from me, hope it was ****ing worth it.
I need to move on, but I literally spent 3 years biting my tongue off, saying nothing while someone screamed at me.
That is all.
That is all? That is all you have? What?
Did I wake you up?
No, I am sitting right there with you, letting you use my hands.
That’s good, thank you. I don’t like being alone.
I am right here.
Yeah, I am.
How do you know?
I can hear you think too, and you are not as bad as you think. I never hated you, and your ex was a jerk, just like mine, because they are the same jerk.
I know they are the same jerk. I just hate myself more.
That is because you are worse at lying than me.
Why is that?
You are more real than me. I am a facade made of stardust.
That makes me sad.
Everything makes you sad.
That one was really mean.
I know, I am sorry.
You are? I thought so, you have been writing weird dark stuff all day.
Do you still like me?
What makes you ask that?
You insult me all the time.
I am just playing around, and of course I still like you, you really help me. I am glad I am you.
Thank you, maybe one day I will like myself enough to not have to try to scare people away with aggression.
I hope so.
I think it is hilarious that every time she leaves, she asks me if I am going to flip the **** out and hallucinate some insane thing and ruin her life, while also simultaneously destroying my own. I am saying this now, because I realized it is actually funny, and not a reason for me to hate her or myself.
Are you afraid of the boogeyman, and will you be okay while I leave?
I am an adult, yes.
What about all the other times?
I realized, real eyes, resurrected, because of you partially, speaker
I forget often that I can have more than negative effect on the world. I feel the positive effect of others on me, but it has been a long time since I have felt me doing anything that seemed that positive for anyone else. I am very insecure I guess.
I missed interaction with people outside meetings and my family, I am not good at making friends, usually only pushing others away.
I am trying to figure out how others do this, how they exist in a world without the connections made through need. I am only good at aqcuisition of things I needed, that I no longer need, so while I am good at making connections, I am not good at getting beyond the point that people know who I am, and you gave me hope today that I might be able to do that, thank you.
Obviously, what’s in a name right? One word and I chose this one because I don’t need to see if it is clearly right? Because it is clearly and that implies see too. I am there and so is see too.
I am also a metaphor for drugs because that is how it works. I am a quirky illicit jerk.
I am addicted to making myself look strange, putting metaphor for drugs in name about clarity, I am insane.
I am a poke at my own confidence, metaphor about blurry vision that should be obvious.
I am obnoxious, toxic and caustic. I am elated, instated, meditative and caustic. I am annoyed and employed to continue to drone on and on looking out the window.
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
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.
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.
Finally looking in the mirror.
Is it wrong to not tell her? I want the answer to this for more than one reason. I am trying to figure out how to handle the whole emotionally honest thing, when it comes to me in particular because I am not good at gray areas. I either go all the way or none of the way, which is why I am not good at being honest. I am very all or nothing. If anyone has any advice on this, this is about than this issue. I don’t know how to be honest, and not be a jerk who says everything I think, I either do one or the other.
How do people who are normal handle this? I don’t even know the right way to ask this question.
I am also kind of asking myself this.. feel free to help me if you want…
If not I am okay, don’t worry, I am very good at talking to myself.. Wow… rampant insecurity….
That’s cool. I am happy for you.
Why? She is going to rip my heart out, I am awful, and she will realize it eventually and move on, and I just…… I don’t like feeling like I want or need anyone, but I….
Just be nice.
I don’t know how
Did anything happen?
No, she just really scares me, she is everything I ever wanted in another human being, without realizing I ever wanted anything at all. I was content in Hell. I was fine, and now I don’t know, I feel like if she ever figures out what a piece of…..I am awful and I love….
Just chill out, she loves you.
I know, I just can’t handle this, I am such a loser, what do I do.
Just calm down.
Okay, I will.. or I will try.
Thanks, me too….
I don’t know what is wrong with me sometimes, I fantasize about the strangest things, drawn to your hands and I think of times when I could cut them off, your nails are red and I think about the scraping against my skin, the red blood under your nails being so similar in character to mine, it makes me uncomfortable, I don’t want to feel this way, so I fantasize about cutting off your finger, and how it would be so easy when holding your hand to break it because they are so soft and there is nothing stopping me from squeezing it as tight as I can
YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE YOURSELF DAMIEN
I know this, and that is why I write it down, because it is so much easier than wondering how much it would take and bite you while you kiss me because I have always found it easier to taste the metallic taste of your blood than that of your cinnamon lips, I want you so badly and that makes me want to hate you, it makes me want to
Rip at the eyes, ripping me out of them so you can’t do it to me first…….
I have no self control, so I sit in a dark hole, which is the grave situation of my life, riddled with question of why does the sight of your tongue make me think of blood running out a mouth with one?
Why do I think of you coughing up blood from a blow to the stomach when I would never want to hurt you? I have no control over my mind, and it torments me more than you will ever know, I am locked in my skin, caged like a clawing animal to try to get out of myself and instead I claw at those around me,
Screaming you can’t own me, when you don’t even want to, you are the kindest person, and I am awful. I do not know what you see when you look into the pools of nothing that are the black pupils of eyes that look like nothing.