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.
Tag: joy
Love That Radiates in Waves of Purple Green
A tree named Serenity, had always had that name, knowing not how, or what it meant, but having it all the same.
It grew up, tall, towards the sky, knowing not why, but that to grow meant to grow up high to the sky.
It’s roots connected to ground, not knowing about sound, but knowing that it was of sound structure, and knew it well, though not being able to tell, anyone at all, not having a mouth or knowing about sound, just knowing that a sound foundation belonged to it, and that the foundation could feel the radiant waves of something that it knew to feel like vibration.
Its trees felt the touch of light, not knowing the difference between light and dark, except that one felt like it danced with kindness on it, and caused upward motion, which is liked, deeply, so deeply, it felt like its roots liked it so much, they would dance further toward the sky.
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A Fish Named, Shirley, Surely
A fish named Shirley hit under bushes bright, with colors swirly, with were coral, as you quarreled with her sense of sureness, Shirley, was perpetually worried.
Her name a contradiction, her existence, a pure fiction, she believed herself to be an illusion of a narrator addicted to pain and suffering, who had painted her existence into that world where misery loves its own company.
Her narrators hands write this, before you read of it, my dear reader, and they have come to know that they create the world that poor Shirley, surely lives in.
If I can tell you anything about the life of this little fish, in a deep sea, that I am not in, but create for her, like someone creates mine for me, in my belief system anyway…
I can tell you one thing about Shirley that I am quite sure of, it is that her radiance and light was gifted to her, to guide her through the darkest of waters, which is what it did, most of the time, TBC.
I am some flowers that are graced by the sun, I am psyched to be thought to be so much fun, bought for your loved one, a gift to the eye, I am yellow and so beautiful, your loved one may cry.
I am a gift spontaneous, of thought that arose, a rose so beautiful a love to a nose, yellow like sun, a gift of pure delight, colored with light and shinning through night.
My beauty is truly beyond all comparison, I am gift that goes beyond all occassion, hand me to her, and she will know you are her true love, I am like handing out a real turtle dove.
What does “having it all” mean to you? Is it attainable?
To have it all, to begin to know peace, not something I ever thought to be possible for me, to be at peace, to have it all, never thought I would be that tall.
To live by the sea, to see blue green, that is all I truly need, and by
Need, I mean, merely want, I am happy with anything really, I am just an I and an eye that experiences time, nothing more, nothing less, an observer of time, nothing divine, nothing more nor nothing less, just an addict with the ability to focus and re-address.
I am just a silly human being, beyond nothing, just what I seem. I do not want more than I need, to have it all is too much for me, I simply want to be happy, not to have more than I need.
Serenity, serenity, I barely know thee, but it is time I see, clearly, that you can exist outside of me.
I am a gold owl, my name is Surrender, I am a short form of creation of re-rendor. I am made with sunlight, that my creator and creator imbue, I am the act of time spent not on overdue.
I am surrender, to my creator and creator’s higher power, I am not a time consumed creator of tower. I do not over consume, or exist to time devour, but merely to say, my creator no longer cowers.
I am unchained
Color me clearly, I once was blue, now I am any color you want, not associated with you, I am dark, I am stark, I am colored like night, I am green, I am mean, I am the color of morning light, I am the color of sunset, I am the color of day, I am the color of joy, not taken away. I am the waves of the ocean, I am the sky, blue for all, I am matters, in free for all.
He is around you, He paints reality for big and small, He is the sky, He is all.
I am dark colored, like an eclipse.
I am a depiction of reality’s kiss with human being’s eye.
I am All that colors the sky.
I am representation of pure love.
He is there in darkness, He is there in the rain, He is there in sadness, He is there in disdain, so do not anger, you can know the light, you need not falter, He is there through the night, He loves all creatures, all life big and small, He is my master.
He is reality, He is the truth. He is wanting removed.
Hello, baby
She came at sunrise, she came with light’s dance, she came at sunrise, and stole my friends pants, they were laid out, on her bed, we did not know, she came at sunrise, in her house we did not know,
It belonged to her. She was kind and forgiving, forgave our unexpected visit, when she came we thought,
“Well, this is it,”
She told us it was okay, that we broke into her house, when all I was thinking, was
Well, this sure went south…
She made us breakfast, and touched my face, it was covered with dust and dirt, which a bath could erase.
She was on a vacation, an act I don’t know, she gave us shelter, from the rain and the cold.
Though I am small, on closer look, I am off the hook, I have everything I need, from the air to breathe, a planted seed, which brings forth my life, and the nutrients in the ground, brought by beings of sound mind.
I am tiny
I am a plant, and used to live in a garden, with my friends, I was placed one day, when they ripped me out, in a bulb, without any roots, a bulb, that was not one that grows, but instead of those for lamps.
I do not know, how or why, just fear that one day I may die, there is not rain or sun in here, so I know one thing, quite clear, I depend on those around, those in the realm that uses sound.
They cannot hear me because I can’t scream, so I hope, and sometimes dream in waves, I hope they get me the water and light I crave.
I then discover it comes right through, and that they know what they do, the soil here, has nutrients, too.
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
Color me kind, color me quick, bring back my colors, make my colors stick.
Meditate on kindness, not on the dark, brick back the sunshine,
Do not rip out your own heart.
Speak kindly of gladness, bring out bright ways, learn from my sadness, and my wayward way.
Color me kindColor me quickBring back my colorsMake my colorsStickMeditateOn kindnessNot on the darkBring back the sunshineDon’t rip out Your own heartSpeak only of gladnessAnd of bright daysDon’t chase out gladnessSpeak of bright ways.
I strive for attention, because I am arrogant, and self involved, I am not trying to do this, it is not my resolved mission, I am just used to being ignored, so I do this because I am alone, and to be self assured, if there is nothing else from me to be learned, please take my sadness, and so in life turn, away from what I did, because for you I want, everything I do not have.
I want for you everything I do not have, all that makes you glad, instead of insane, and so very sad, and mad.
Her sky was painted with glowing radiance.
There once was a girl, who loved beautiful flowers, she would stare at them for hours and hours, she would wish she could be like them, fragrant, and joyous, like her name suggested. She always felt that her name was a lie, sometimes so much that it made her very sad, or even cry. She wished to a rose, or a being with anything but toes, a sea lion, a fish, not her, so sad and craving anything, but this, she wished for the bliss of the sun, her life had never been very fun, but she felt obliged to stay, not to take away the happiness of those around her.
She prayed every day, for something to give her a little bit of contentment, or even content to her life, that felt so riddled with questions and with strife. One day a voice, way up high, almost seeming to come from the sky, directed her brown eyes, to the flowers she loved so much, and she decided to begin to alter them in photographs from other people, that inspired her so, she altered the flowers, putting more light in them, thinking herself a painter with the paint brush of the stars, she put the love of a higher power in the things that made her smile.
There is a land, with no seems or seams, or strings attached to my heart or mind, and I am getting there slowly, very slowly, to a place of lack of attachment, where anything can happen.
Into the darkness, and far away, I think I am begining to trust something other than myself. I am begining to see that I don’t care if I know anything, and that I most certainly know very little, but just enough. Thank you.
In this land, I see you, whoever you are, wanderer, or maybe multiple people, who are doing multiple things, with many people, you exist as an externalization of my imagination, in a world of projection, without the protection of want or desire.
You are the idea, not person, not specific to one person or notion, that anything can happen.
She spoke to me kindly, she spoke to me greatly, not with great understanding, but with great power, power with words and power over me, through my inability to understand her, and ability to panic over things beyond my understanding.
Belinda, Belinda, you were so great, so great
That my arrogance deprived us of the ability to relate, such a tragic shame, and I am only to blame.
I miss someone, I miss you, I don’t know you, but feel I do.
In the projected future, there is someone I miss right now, and I don’t know how I miss them, but I do. I dream of you, and like I said, I don’t know how.
You are not know to me, not right now.
You are made of star dust, you are in my dreams.
You are protected by time, or so it seems, because I am supposedf to be alone right now, and so are you, and I don’t know why, or maybe I do.
There is something a higher force is teaching me right now, and I imagine it is the same and also seperate for you, and I imagine the next time I am with someone or maybe the thousandth I don’t know, it will be different.
Olivia, Olivia, where are you now?
You were so kind to me, while you lay on the beach, you stopped swimming, and made me realize I could just be me.
Olivia, Olivia, from heaven you came down, and touched my dirty hand, covered in mud, engaged in conflict in act of push and shove. You helped me different, seeing my real face, you helped me realize it was not me I must erase.
You held my hand, and said a silent prayer, demanding nothing and touching my hair, telling me I was not bad, and that people could be mean, I cried while you talked and pretended you didn’t see.
You told me that I could love myself, and make new friends, that all that my other friends said could be put to bed. I thank you Olivia, you helped save my life, you made me realize I need not live in strife.
I am now a different person, partly because of what you said, and now all the dark thoughts are slowly being put to bed.
Her name was Odessa, such a beautiful queen, she came to me in California, and saved my life with a dream, she told me she valued me for what she did see, she did not see me as the dread Rei Clearly saw me, she saw what I was, I started to cry, she told me fear not, need not live a lie.
You touched my heart
She told me she loved me, though me she did not know, she touched my hand, and kindness, she began to show, she said a prayer for me, and took all my worry, the pain in my eyes, the pain made eyes blurry.
She cried for me, and kissed my tired hands, and is one of the people who gave me strength to stand, on my two feet, though I really have four, she made me feel like a human, not a dead bleeding sore.
I am a being with the power of two, I am two people doing as they do.
I am always one in chains.
Hey, not true anymore.
Is it not so?
It is not so.
Free dom
Dom, in Latin means master
Free of master, I am a master of disaster, an acid blaster, shooting acid into my own eye, to make myself, own self, I own myself, cry
Cry, baby, why oh why?
Why did I hurt myself so?
Because you are oh, so very bad at saying no.
What are you doing? You sound like a lunatic.
I, no?
You mean, ‘I know.’
No. I meant, you sound like a lunatic, because you are participating, and I always sound like one, and who cares anyway.
I am the heart of glass, I am fragile, but that will pass, filled with darkness from the past, but given peace I think will last.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
Clean Clothes
Access to running water
Safe place to sleep
Waking up to seeing my family
Access to coffee, nicotine, and food
“Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live.”
Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
In a tunnel in California, I am reminded of my friend, who had traveled the world, and given everything to a woman, who wasted it all before wasting away herself.
She was addicted to heroin, ironic because she was his heroine herself, dying tragically of cancer, while he paid to ease her suffering, not caring that she was spending all of his money, he only cared that he was doing whatever she asked.
I saw so much suffering out there, so much pain, I was so used to it, it is still hard to see anything else. I look for it even now, as I write this to you, but I am starting to open my eyes, and be able to see clearly, they have been shut a long time….
I am sitting outside, waiting for someone, I don’t remember her name, just remember that she had something that I wanted, and I was supposed to wait outside, because she wanted to talk to you alone, but all I wanted was to talk to you alone. Looking at you made me forget anything I had ever wanted in my entire life. You smelled like roses, and you laughed at very specific things, which indicated you were laughing not as a show, but because you had a very specific and unique sense of humor.
You laugh, and it is like someone opened a window, and I realized it has been sweltering hot in any room I have ever been in, and you are cool refreshing water
Your laugh sounds like a waterfall, washing over everything in my life and making it alright, making everything alright, washing every bit of pain out of me… just for the couple seconds that I look into your eyes.
You have someone else, someone who is also waiting for the same thing I am waiting for, but I wish neither of us were waiting for that, in this moment from the past, I wish that I had never done any drugs at all, and could be just standing there with you listening to you laugh, it was better than any drug I have ever done.
I am stained, ever the same as always, with purple, ever the same as I was, but for a different reason
Whining, wining, not wining, not whining but winning slowly, a battle with a stain, destain, de-stain.
Polaroid of the void,
I am wind up toy
I was running off a cliff
Forever I was adrift
But, I am finding now
Forever out of cloud
Do you paint a way out?
Do you tell a store of a life without
Do you speak of escape or revival
Loss or survival?
I am free, I am free, I am free
Just to be
Just to be
To the author, this is a taste of your own medicine.
I am talking to myself.
I am aggressive because I am afraid of myself. I
Fear imperfection because I am in love myself
I am a narcissistic
Per so n on s h elf
The troll lives outside, and is invisible. It is not me this time.
It lurks in everything, in potentiality, for always and forever.
It really sounds like you.
Shut up and go with me.
Okay, fine.
It is under anything that causes
DISCOMFORT
DISCOMFORT
Stop that now.
Good Job.
I now you have a thing about the number three, and you are not divine, so stop it.
Okay.
Day 105: Owl
Moreso than most of mine, because they exist not in decline or make mine or eternal infernal bind with fight for time or dime, but instead resign or it is fine that it is not mine, but instead divine.
I am free to live, and give to those I encounter, the thoughts of the previous fist pounder, not the fist pounder, but the fist giver, the pain bringing angry addict of silver tongue, that was never fun to be around for anyone.
Even me, begining in an unconventional way, because I was wrong, and
You were right, and I will no longer fight, because you helped bring me flexible peace. Peices of reflective stained glass of my own re-cast soul, drawn out of hole, and thrown to the sky.
I like my flowers on ice.
I used to run, not to chase, just for fun,
I used to fly, to take flight, not hide or chase, not to fight.
When I was not so mad, not so angry, not so crazy, not so sad.
The dark night ends, the darkness leaves, the dark ones get back to being undseized by quest to prove they have knees.
Running forward or side to side, not looking back, not seeking to find, just moving forward, forever free, providing by clarity.
Looking Forward, in re-touch, makes those who touched darkness, touch things with finger paint on their hands, inner children, outer adults, re-color worlds with unique touches.
It is impossible to go anywhere
Naked and bleeding, and being naked and bleeding is not fun.
Spending time screaming about being naked and bleeding is a waste of time, so it is better to quest for clothes than spend times screaming about being naked and bleeding.
The foolish, screamers, have been taking years screaming about being cold when they could have been finding new clothes.
It is no longer cold outside.
Clarity from the darkness
I used to scream and cry, a walking rant, a poke in the eye, but I have learned sometimes to shut my mouth, to prevent a life that is prone to running south. I say sometimes because I am back and forth.
Smoulder’s shoulder is cold, it is icy, knowledge old. It lives in darkness, illuminates lights, seeks to cool not to fight.
The act of smoulder is not death, in it’s ice are secrets kept.
Playing with words
A path winds through the night, going foward, existing simply, in a direction.
The traveler exists simply too, at night, happening to be there, under cover of darkness, arriving at this precise time, when it is dark.
In a quest for forward motion, the traveler at first curses the ground, damning it for being in its present place, at its present time,
Forgetting the word present
Forgetting the idea of presenting
Forgetting the gift of sight at all
Forgetting the gift of site at all
In this forgetting, the traveler does not see, but walks blind
On purpose
On purpose
But then
Trips over a flashlight
Curses the ground
Sees the flashlight
Picks it up
Uses it and walks on.
With purpose
Purposely
Proposing something different.
I see.
Today, I am very simply just happy to be here. I am no longer looking back because I have said all I need to say about that, there remains nothing else that I could say about any of it.
The focus of this site going forward, will be a bit different, I do not know what that means yet.
Dark reflections on darkness bring darkness
Reflections rising from darkness bring truth.
What do I see differently, because of who I am now?
I don’t know yet.
I have done a lot of stupid things, in my life. I have listed them on here. This blog has been a whining meditation on what I believed to be me deserving better or something… I think… I realized last night that I am an idiot, and forgot the most important thing, I have survived a large amount of my own self-inflicted stupidity.
Thankful today, to be able to get up, and simply be alive.
Swan
I am not here to preach to anyone, I am not here to tell anyone what to believe, I am not even here to say what works for me could work for you. I am simply an idiot writing on the internet about what gives me the ability to sleep at night, which right now is the fact that I just had a pretty intense experience with my dad at stations of the cross, at his church.
I liked it because I have always had a thing about chanting, the intense power of people all saying the same thing at the same time, with each other, over and over, especially if it was something that had been done over and over at the same time, each year. I think the power of the human word when spoken together, all at once is very moving.
I really enjoyed it, and my dad seemed very happy his drug addict child was at mass with him rather than doing drugs in the streets.
That is all.
Damien
Faith turns the sick green with green envy at the power of something higher
Thank you Unger, you showed me why I felt like I was losing my mind all day. I
am afraid of someone causing me pain I cannot control at the dentist, during a root canal.
The root of the matter is fear not insanity..
Thank you. Thank you.
I am so happy.
I am just an addict,
Not losing my **** mind.
The waves crush them under the force of resentment, and they don’t look back because if they did, they would see a lot of dust, in the tracks of things they left behind a long time ago.
Their dreams, their friends.
Themselves.
I speak for myself and myself only, but speak this way because there are multiple versions of me.
I am a cat. I am a cat. I am a cat. Feed me spare change, don’t feed me to an atm.
Or an at the moment feeling of homeless people shouldn’t have animals, what if I became homeless yesterday, what about my cat?
Doesn’t he get to live too?
Does he get to eat too?
Or does he get put in a cage?
I stand where I stand, and make no stand of declaration for any man or any person, I just have my own views and you can pick or choose to listen and to say what you want or to hurt or to hurt or taunt, because I have been high and low and how low can you go?
Tell me, because honestly I don’t ****ing know.
I am on fire, I am on fire, I am dissent to an empire of pain, I am raining disdain on reigning disdain or anything that causes pain really. So my views are my own, and they are owned by me, clearly.
I took your name, your name, that I gave you, just in case, just in case, you find me, and hurt me for saying something, you don’t like, you don’t like.
Watch your mouth, it run south fastly, slowly, knowingly telling the truth.
Why do I disagree with porn, because sex should be had for pleasure, not to make a living, and most porn stars are women, who should be able to make a living doing something that inspires them, like being an actress, which is what most porn stars originally wanted.
I just don’t watch it, that is my solution.
Where do you run to? I ran in the dark, and it was nice, until I fell, and busted my knee.
This is who I fight, not Rei, this, strong trigger, this is raw, scary channeled nightmare.
I think of you every time I hear the peepers, not my you, the one I found on here that sounds like me, how I sounded when I talked to the burning rays of the sun, and thought I was talking to someone else, when I was really talking to resentmeant.
I married sin, it ate me from within.
I married hate, it made me quite irate.
I married wrath, it made me slay a calf.
I was really married to no one, we didn’t have the money, we spent it on heroin, if I had been married I would have been divorced 3 times.
3 strikes, I am out, of the game of slaying my exes with hexes online, because it is unkind and that puts my soul in a bind, with bought time, before I destroy me, and run on bloody knee into a train, this really happened, so insane, I think in addict brain that I am running from something, and I was, a pitbull, metaphoric because this one I can’t say online, don’t have permission to, he chased me till I ran away, afraid he would take me
OUT OUT OUT
Of the state of being able to say anything about anything ever again
Drive me INSANE
Permanently.
I am the psych patient being told, you can’t be allowed out, unless someone signs for you, and unfortunately you can’t remember your name or who to have sign for you.
****
Run.
I can’t. I am stuck in here. I am stuck sitting in a chair next to a man who doesn’t know his name either, he thinks his name is Sand.
He told me this, and I told him, I like grains.
He likes me now.
I am okay with it here, but I like the SUN.
I am so sorry to the most high, not her, not me, but the nature that rests above me, the moon, the stars, everything I do not own, that I made mine when I said.
I have the right to steal everything, from everyone, to buy heroin.
I am so sorrry, but I don’t hate me anymore, because I have written my resentments out here, and they all reflect back at me, well clearly.
Clearly, clearly, look at me, I am spinning I am free, I hurt myself, by killing my friend in only metaphoric sense, but really I kill my heart, my soul, making me an aching hole.
I would divorce myself if I could. I would divorce myself if I could, I am the screaming liar, with soul on fire, who burned fires, set by me worshipping my own death.
Clearly can’t get me, I get my self. I drink bottle HIGH on shelf, I have cut ears of injured elf… it rhymed…
Hahahhahhahahhahhaahhahhahahhahha
no no no no no.
I am the soul keeper of my own, my precious because it rings so so so true.
Ode to Schizophrenia.
I worshiped Rah. I worshiped death. I worshiped anything that would keep me in
inner turmoil.
Churning oil.
Faker faker faker. Liar. I hate myself. I put my life in fires of HELL, metaphoric and very real, because I can burn, I can feel. I
am eye of tainted man, of woman too because I am too.
Never alone, never alone, I am never alone. Always here with me. Always at my own face, screaming, I hate you.
I am the eater of Damien’s soul, I am MISERY. I EAT HIM WHOLE.
Ahhahahaahahhahahhahahahha
You can’t get me, I forgave myself.
A walk through Misery, provided by the lens of remembering a lack of clarity.
Where do you go when it’s dark?
Do you go to the land of the stark
And light stricken chaotic dimension of pain? Do you meditate on disdain?
Do you cry of the life lived in vain?
I did once too, I cried just like you. I walked with eyes shut, and mind off, and feigned cough and feigned gasp, with hands clasped around my tools of fixation and dilation.
I have found a way out.
I see three shadows
There are people in the lands that are outside this hell.
We are people that have been were you are. We have felt your pain.
We are on the other side of it now
We are here to tell you, you do not have to walk alone any longer. We are here if you want to talk to us, and all we can do is share how we got to the other side of misery. Ask me anything and I will tell you.
I could never see true north, never in my life. My compass was broken, as it would have to be, going south.. smitten with chaos I sought only dark, and tried to re-define light. It was a tragic re-color of misery painted in silver over inner darkness, to look like stars, but really just was silver bullets aimed at my soul, that was addicted to pain, so I could kill it with things that kill pain. My margins were skewed by spindles, metaphor, Now I am nimble and free to be me, through being me, Damien, not Amanda, in upstream.
I will find what I am looking for by waiting not searching, by accepting what is not by looking for what is not.
I aim to be only me, who is two people, now I know, I am two people, both are us, we are both male, I don’t the second name, I just know the feeling of disdain that came with female name, and how she hated me, so much to paint me, as the villain of her story.
We saved each other, and now are two and now I can be with her, and her with you. I am not sure, what any of this means, just acceptance of who we are, and that we exist far from the rest of those who are not the same, and that’s okay with me at least, may not be with everyone, but that is okay too, you don’t have to know me if you don’t want to.
I just know that now I can look in the mirror, without experiencing soul eating fear.
This is everything to me.
The call of the siren, the echo of sirens, screaming at me, guilty addict, stay away, kept me from your shores for 7 years, I chased you from coast to coast, hoping to forgive myself along every shore line, sure line, finding only fault lines, and gradual reclining soul decline, which is not ironic, but iconic, me an icon of pain disdain, but no more.
I am a grain of sand, on a beach, that is no longer beseached, but fully colored, not in stark darkness, but with full color because I am is no longer what it is.
It is no longer, a place of soul eating madness for me, but now a place that has been resurrected as what I loved as a child, which I was, I remember that now, not just Amanda’s imaginary friend, but half of her, she is me and I am her, and she is me. I am half of her and she is half of me? The other half doesn’t have a name, neither of us is Amanda, so until it is figured out, I am her and she is me, but to differentiate, I call her Amanda.
This is a ram. I am an aries.
I am so excited about literally what I just wrote up there, two root canals, not that I want them, but that they are root canals, and not two extractions. I thought I was going to have to have two teeth extracted, and I don’t care about how that would look, whatever about that. Change is good..
I am excited because I knew it would hurt and I knew that I am going to deny them giving me pain killers. I told the doctor I was an ex heroin addict to out myself on purpose, so they wouldn’t give them to me.
I am excited that I actually did the right thing about this. That’s all.
I am day 99 not upside down
I just was talking to my Dad, about the ideas that I have expressed thus far on this site, and we both talked about what I think was revealed to me by the powers that be, or the powers that govern my existence because I believe in them, which is why I say often that people are free to believe what they want, and that I don’t mean to preach or say anything to dictate the beliefs of others.
I believe in what I believe in and it governs me because I myself assign meaning to it. I have placed a lot of faith in the universe punishing people for selfishness, and then done exactly what I think should be punished, insane right? I know.
I am going to stop self fullfilling my own damnations now.
Clearly See, See Clearly
Sight in the middle of Chaotic Self Assertion.
I did a brief inquiry into the history of this house, and found nothing. So I don’t think the ghost has to do with the house, and what is strange is the same thing happened when I came back downstairs, so I am done as of now, talking about anything negative on this site. I will do my best to make this site a positive place, going forward, as I think this is something that is directed at me specifically and wants to me to be angry and miserable. I am no longer going to be serving whatever it is.
That is all for now, in this post anyway.
Peace and love
Damien.
That is literally my favorite holiday… ****! I think I forgot it, because I was supposed to, because other than the Fourth of July, it is one of the days I have the hardest time not drinking. The Fourth of July, I used to get hammered and loudly talk about what a good American I was until I almost got arrested, and then I liked to tell the cops arresting me what a good American I was, which would usually cause them to either not arrest me, or to violently arrest me.
It was hilarious.
But it is the reason why I have a bunch of warrants for failure to appear.
I don’t appear for anyone I don’t want to. Not even myself.
Stream of Consciousness
If you could have something named after you, what would it be?
I really just wanted to make the Lord of the Rings joke. That is the whole reason for this post really. I have been trying to find some reason to make a Lord of the Rings joke all day, because I love Lord of the Rings. Which is funny because I have only ever read the Hobbit, and never finished the series, because I am lazy. I have a hard time reading anything that is not a horror story because it is the only style that holds my attention.
I think that is because it is the only style that competes with the horrific images, that are my imagination, which is horrible. I think that might not be my fault though, I think it might be PTSD. I just noticed how often I use the word fault, or blame, and it is a little bit disturbing. There are a lot of times I use this and it is not even something that involves fault or blame. I don’t know why I do this.
I am adding this at the top, but it is a revision, just did something because of below dream, to help someone out. Not revealing that on here, because all that is important about this is I am learning I care about people.
In the nightmare I was walking around ranting like a lunatic about things I thought were going on outside my window, which was what I was doing shortly before I went to sleep last night. I was doing this and my family walked in on me doing, and told me to stop doing it. I was by myself and they came in and told me it bothered them and to stop doing it, so since I wasn’t in my room, or the room I stay in, I went in there, and did the same thing. They came in there and they did the same thing.
I told them that them listening to what I was doing when I was supposed to be in a spot they told me I could sleep in, made me feel like it was unsafe to sleep in there, which it did, because if someone is watching me when I sleep, I will not sleep.
I ranted like this to myself for an hour or so about this and the news and how the whole thing made me feel, and then I apologized after coming to my senses, and told my family that the way they were acting was making me worse, and that the evidence of that was that I was geting worse, and that was why I wanted to leave and get my own place, which they now know I am going to do matter what.
Anyway, the dream, the dream was that I never went to sleep, just kept doing this all night, and got drunk, and I got drunk in the dream by accident by the way, I accidently took a sip of my family’s wine, from a glass I thought was water, and then realizing that I had fucked up, I got drunk about it.
So point being I woke up from this dream, checked in the room for the wine, and was extremely relieved it was a dream, because I actually care if I mess this up, for myself, no one else, I care about my own sobriety, in an almost selfish way.
WTF.
That is kind of cool.
Anyway the dream,
Sometimes when you are insane, you think everything about you, compelled by things that are not real, because you read into them, things that you were paranoid people thought, not realizing that you were the one projecting those things on those that actually love you.
I talked to my family, and I completely misread the whole thing. I made comments that were made about things that had nothing to do with me, about me, because I was paranoid they were about me. They weren’t. They were about things I didn’t even know about. I told my family that I am going to start paying attention to the times when I have this strange feeling that my body is on fire, because it seems to lead me to say things and think things that are not nice, and based on discomfort from experiencing latent withdrawl.
I am walking through the woods, looking at the trees, and feeling the gentle breeze against my face. It is fall, and not late enough in the season for it to be cold enough to feel like winter, simply just feeling like fall. Like falling into the end of the seasons, and towards the begining of a new year. The leaves are turning colors, my eyes dart from leaf to leaf, each one different, like predictive snow flakes, predictive in that they are very much the same as snow flakes, and signal the end of the year.
I think, that this is what those recovery people talk about, I feel good, like
I told them this is one of the reasons I hate myself, and they told me not to. That they love me anyway.
I think this is what those recovery groups talk about. I feel good, like I will be able to sleep tonight maybe,
I have being having a hissy fit my whole life about having to be someone I am not. I am not Rei Clearly, I am not Amanda. I am me. I am this, I am Damien, take it or leave it.
I should have said that the whole time, instead of saying I was a violent person or a psycho. I am merely just a very angry person, but really only at myself, for never standing up for myself, for drinking and using about something I did to me.
I am done with it, I know I have said that, but I am putting this on here, so I have to look at it, every time I try to word vomit negativity.
I am sitting in a room, and consumed with die soon, because I do not live in present time, but in worrying about spent dime, that was spent long ago, and today it was shown to me
SO WHAT?
The power of moving on, is that you move on, which means you just move on, and I think I just figured that out. I ruined my own life, and I am going to stop making excuses, I don’t care anymore what I did to ruin it.
I really am. This is really helping me. I am close to having nothing left to say about all of this. I have almost gotten everything from everyone who hurt me out of my system. I am starting to have a life again. I have friends, who like me and my family likes me again. I just don’t have anyone in that way, and I don’t think I will for a long time. I am extremely hurt by everyone who has ever been with me, because they just used me. That is why I scream on here, because I am not going to ruin my life again. I am over that.
Peace.
Damien
I used to think, this was a command about getting coins, a vessel being something that held coins, this being my alcoholic mind making things up that make no sense. A vessel has never been something that holds coins, instead being a large boat, or a hollow container used to hold liquid.
So of course, me being who I am, thought that it was supposed to hold coins, or booze money, or money for other things that are the same things, because it doesn’t matter, I can be addicted to running and make myself sick running till I feel like I am going to pass out, and tell myself that I am doing a good thing, because it is only running right?
Or the time when I figured out you could experience.. hey.. how bout I not do that? How about I say something positive for a change, instead of being on a failing ship that is falling because I loaded it with fools gold, how about I say something posotive and turn the fate of my ship around, right? Clearly See not will asserted See Clearly right?
Having fun talking to yourself?
Clearly.
Positive self-talk, my style. 😛
I can do it too, I just do it this way.
I am learning that the truth is, I am just so damn arrogant that I thought my way worked, even though clearly it does not, and I have been taught that recently by people who love me, and have way more knowledge of what is true and real than I ever did doing things on my own.
I am learning to change vessels, to get off the failing ship, failing because it ia loaded with spare change meant to buy things I don’t need, and take the advice of friends who love me.
They were telling me the truth the whole time, I just wasn’t listening.
I am not privy to the truth yet, I am too **** arrogant to know anything that even resembles that, but I am working on seeing and if I can do that first maybe I can finally find out what truth even means, because I have had my eyes shut my whole **** life and someone just turned on the freakin’ lights, so I will figure out from here I guess, but at least I know what I am dealing with now, and that I can’t freaking do this alone anymore, because I didn’t realize this alone. It took people I know with flashlights to help show me the way out of the freaking darkness, towards a light in the sky that may illuminate the path away from a failing vessel full of fools gold.
British people are great, free wallop meaning alcoholic drinks, but also meaning the same thing that wallop already means which is to strike someone very hard. That is perfect. It perfectly describes me when drinking, violent. It perfectly describes the deviant reaction of my brain to an addictive substance, which also being a slang term for an alcoholic drink.
Best prompt ever. Done. Thank you wordpress.
Now this.
I am talking to a reflection of pain
It is telling me trust me, baby, I will make life risky. I am hearing this, and thinking I am bored, and a game sounds fun so, lets go, and I can’t even imagine wanting this now so, no.
“When we say that a man is jovial in disposition, we are conscious that we are using the name of the great Roman god in vain,”.
Funk, Wilfred, Word Origins and Their Romantic Stories, Page 28
I am jovial, I am rude, I make Roman God, a human mood.
I think that my human state of being is divine, my heart, so fine.
Watch me speak with words careless tossed, like man who loves to just get sauced, I am happy, I am free, I am elated, I am me.
I need nothing, I don’t frown, I am flying, don’t look down, I am gliding, I am elated, I am fixated, not properly punctuated, I am ranting, I am mad, I need no breath, just pauses sad, because in this state, I cannot last, I am the eyes of man who drinks from tainted glass.
Look at me, look at me, I need nothing, I am free. I am happy, I am me.
I used to believe in luck, and my ability be flying through life on the wings of a plane, that was going down, to the ground, burning till I realized, I could jump off the plane, and trust, that I need not be a brain that was covered in rust, I could get clean by rain that was brought by trust, that all I needed to do is look up, and see what was above me. I am not the highest thing, I may have been higher than anything, but I was falling fast, and rather be destined to crash.. I realized that I had to make my life last and grab onto something that would make things last.
I now believe in faith, or simply have it I guess, and so when my mind is unrest, I do not feel pain in my chest, or find myself compelled to undertake dark quest for something ripped out of devil chest, I simply trust in something higher than fire could ever make me, and I am finally realizing that is greatly
More peace-bringing than luck and a dedication to an empire fueled by fire driven desire could ever make me in a million years.
I wake up, hearing a street sweeper, my head rested against the glass door of a convenience store, I have 30 minutes, to get my stuff out of here, before the cops come and tell me it is illegal to sleep outside, and then make me leave, which I was doing anyway, and they make it take longer.
It is extremely hard to roll a sleeping bag up with a police officer asking you why you can’t do it faster, and trying to explain how you are missing the tips of three fingers, while listening to him laugh about how
“Well maybe, you shouldn’t have done drugs then!”
I know that now, didn’t know that then…
This lady comes up and asks me what I am doing, she is making this harder.
She tells me I need to get a job. I am somewhere else in my head thinking about how I wish I was a turtle, so I say,
“Do you know how long turtles live?”
She thinks this is some sort of veiled threat, so now I have ten minutes to get out of here, before the it takes one and a half hours and a ticket to get out of here instead of 20 minutes.
I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.
I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.
I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….
I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.
“I knew I shouldn’t watch, that she wouldn’t want me to. But the way that water slipped around her bare skin rooted me in place. The moon shone down on both on us both, alighting her beauty, and me in sin.”
I have no voice, or choice to move.
I am not man, I am not one who desires food.
I am unlike this woman, I observe.
I am home to nest, I am home to bird.
She does not know, because she cannot understand, I am a tree, and yet I see, her where she stands.
I am fan that blows in all weather. No longer is my temper tethered to changes in wind.
I have learned to accept things I cannot change, so I am no longer bothered by the rain, nor do I cry when the sun is clouded by inclement clouds, I am without
Bother, when it is hotter than I can stand, because now I realize it is all going according to something that has nothing to do with me.
I can stand and be, simply free, to experience bliss.
I am able to feel the sun again, because I pay attention, not demanding perfection, but forgetting to mention I don’t know what that is.
I am just simply me, standing outside experiencing something that is not mine. It does not matter whether it is existential or divine.
It matters only that I accept it exists, and is not specific to me, I just experience this, and that’s a gift.
I used to play Mario, and have hissy fits at the screen when I would lose, I hated it, but everyone liked it, so I would play it and almost break the game system, and ruin it for everyone else. I was never a very happy child.
Everyone else would sit there laughing at making jokes, enjoying the thrill of the game, and I would be thinking about stealing wine from downstairs, because Mario made me so freaking nervous. I was always running of cliffs or jumping into the Goombas, hands shaking with anger or nervousness, and then running away to go find alcohol downstairs. I was 13.
My entire life as far as I can remember, has been very much like this game, a chaotic running into Goombas, or dealers, or cops, or people who want to kick my *** because I ripped them off, or my family mad because I spent all my money on things that no one should spend any of their money on.
I am happy today because I literally forgot, today is my 90th day sober and clean. I am so consumed with being happy about other things, I forgot I was not drinking or doing drugs.
I have never known happiness like this. It cost me nothing, and I can have it by not buying things I didn’t need, if I keep doing the right thing, which makes me feel good anyway.
HIGH SCORE
Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.
I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.
I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.
I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.
I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.
I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.
This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.
Misery cycle.
Mercy cycle is harder.
I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.
I emptied both of my laundry baskets last night, metaphorical and physical, instead of throwing all my clothes out and saying I don’t need more than the clothes on my back.
I don’t have many clothes, or I didn’t because whenever I would get angry, I would throw my clothes out, or all over the road, or all over the woods, or leave them at someone’s house, or you get the idea. I leave things places, because I don’t need things… or so I thought.. apparently… that is addiction thinking……
I used to hate my family,
Because they did not understand me.
They told me try to get better, because they don’t ****ing understand me…
Or because they love you, jerk.
I did my laundry yesterday with my mother, and she helped me fold it because I am missing three of my finger tips, because I have done things that caused me to get infections in my hands…
I told her I was sorry, and now my laundry is put away and all of it is clean.
This is the name of the book. I just started reading this, and it is very interesting, more about it later.
Oh, and I found this journal I started about the whole thing that happened across the country that revealed to me basically that I was trying to write myself as the villain in my own story because I hate myself. I am going to post stuff from it on here later tonight with more info on the real story, not the over dramatized version that was all schizophrenic alcoholic addict-ified, because I feel like it will help me process it, and for anyone reading this provide some clarity into what actually happened… heh..
I thought I had 88 days, because time stopped for me at a certain point. I just put it into this app I use, and apparently tomorrow I will have 90 days. Sweet.
My clean/sober date is the 25th of December, so I think that is right, I am bad at math, **** it… the app says it is right.
I found this book that has a bunch of really cool things in it while trying to get myself to stop thinking that the path I need to follow is beating myself over the back of the head with a poll of I hate myself.
The book is about word origins, and the called Word Origins and their romantic stories, and will post more about it tomorrow. It is by this author named Wilfred Funk and has a lot of really cool info in it, oh and apparently tomorrow is day 90. I got th days wrong… dufus…
Peace.
I am looking for my dog outside, cursing the universe, screaming in chaos. Running in the streets screaming the name Fiona over and over. I am having a panic attack simultaneously, cursing everything that there is in the universe that caused this to happen.
I forget that I caused this to happen. This is a looking back view of this by the way, brought on by PTSD. My ex’s father just died, and I feel bad because we, meaning my ex and I, not the plural of me, put that man through hell.
I forget sometimes, my own role in the decisions that lead to the situations I am faced with, and I am very prone in those moments, to screaming at something in the sky when I should just looking for my dog.
Unfortunately I ruined it, so for now I am stuck with this, and I think I am supposed to learn to release control
‘I hate my life sometimes, because I just want some semblance of control over something, not everything, just something. I feel like I have been in a situation, my whole life… where I am fighting to control everything because I control nothing. I get that I am supposed to stop doing this, and I am trying, but it is like being in a rigged chess game, or that is what it feels like.
How am I supposed to be okay with losing, if I know the game is rigged to begin with?
I know this all just addict thinking, resentment based, my life is harder.. that’s why I got high… got drunk… but my life was the reason I got high or drunk…… I am still in the same horrible positions I have been fighting all my life to escape, just lesser versions of them. I don’t get sometimes what the point of all this is, I guess? How am I supposed to trust something that I don’t understand enough to trust?
I guess I want to change the answer of this post,
I wish I could trust in a higher power more every day.
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.
A journey through MISERY
PUSH PLUNGER GO ON THE EYE OF A NEEDLE RIGGED WITH SPENDTHRIFT DEATH
Forgetting is a tragic problem I have, but it is getting better, as my ego dies, and I open my eyes to the fact that I could not see, because I was sick and deranged by a disease strange and prone to mange and change human form, to distort and contort the human body, and make it unrecognizable to the have-
er of one.
I have been know as a chaos chaser of dragons, a pusher of substance, and prayer in holes of foxes, in ditches, in alleyways, a shooter of heroes, and a placer of ins and outs in acts heroic so I can go without doing them, pushing them in with sowing needles that stitch me out and in to a quilted madness in the bed I was making and would have to lie in and lay in, in death.
I have come to a place now where I can go home as well, well too.
This home allows the chaotic night to continue without my pushing assertion of madness, and it is a little quieter minus one night crier night crawler, who now sleeps and dreams.
I find myself
Staring up at the sky a lot now, realizing how much time
I spent
Looking down
Meditating on ground and sensations of going down
Underneath the dirt and bugs, and now with embrace from the master of all space and time I am free to migrate up, and drink from cups of water again, and have friends and hands that are not my own, because I am free to own nothing and everything at once, in a state of sharing an existence in stance with a oneness that I do not even understand because I am not supposed to because I am one of many, and we are all one of one.
I love all of you.
Peace
Damien/Amanda
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
The biggest compliment I have ever received, I have received over and over recently, because I am a person of doing something either very hard or not at all, and such is my life because the universe tends to speak to me in voices I can understand, which is convenient, and speaks to the wisdom inherent in a universe that is so much wiser than me, who knew? I am not the smartest person in the universe?
Sorry, sarcasm helps me deal with having to admit weakness, which I am learning is a strength. A bunch of my friends, who are a compliment in and of themselves, for being my friends, have paid me the compliment of understanding me more than I understood myself, and having patience with the fact that I am an ***. They like me for who I am, that is the best thing in the entire world, and a couple of them today, told me that over coffee, while we talked about our lives, and we all actually listened to each other, instead of just waiting to cut each other off, like my other friends used to. I like the new friends I have so much better, because I have started to connect with people with the condition that they have to be people like me, sober and clean people, who don’t do the things I don’t want to be around. Those people have become the best friends I could ever ask for and continue to compliment me just by continuing to want to hang out with me with no motive to gain anything other than company.
Here is to not hanging out with misery anymore, I prefer the company of the angels of mercy so much more, so much more entertaining than the misery demons that populated the chaotic streets. Entertaining angels is so much better.
I like to change the meaning of words, to make them all about me, a psychotic narcissist drug addict, who is on a mission to die. I instantly saw in this an inserted I into a word that is about a pretty bird. I think about myself and my dying lifestyle constantly.. I have written my romance with this drug/drink all over the internet in a homage to death..
Think about bird dumb ***
___________________________________
Flat line, new thought.
I am a reborn bird, not a phoenix but a heron. I have been reborn that way, due to the death of my I or eyes that previously only saw in blurry psycho vision inspired by drugs and only drugs.
I am two spirits so narcissistic that there forced by will of a power high than me to share the same body and be born as a bird who can be a heron not addicted to heroic acts of failure. I have one minute left. Bam.
I am the changing mind of Amanda/Damien who is now unified and not fighting itself because it has been gifted with this so it would not destroy itself.
I am the split of two souls
I have always felt like I am being a girl/I have always felt like a guy.
Damien/Amanda
I have been fighting myself dilated through two universe, a narcissist but also a hater of myself, psychotic two spirit with soul split in misery and dilated through drugs, dumb, and blind because I chose to be, but I am really two spirits second chance, they are in this together fighting for redemption. They are two souls that would have been in misery without each other.
I am a chaotic mad chasing, not of nothing but of my own self, which existed with me the whole time, I was just too arrogant to see that my higher power had given me something different. Thankful for today. I will no longer use this to change my voice and commit petty crime.
I can die later, when it wants me to, only it knows that.
I realize now why this was done, we were both so arrogant we needed to be brought to our knees. We did this in psychosis, the only way we knew how a narcissist drowning in life trying to be with themselves. I can live with myself now because me and Amanda or Damien and I are the same person. BAM. Thank you, to a power higher than for teaching me the hard way, the only way I would listen.
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
I have been arrogant my whole life, and not willing to listen. The point of this post is to say, my eyes were shut before, I was being told to see, and shutting my eyes, or blurring them with substances. I am opening my eyes now because something gave me the biggest compliment in the world, something beyond my understanding is speaking to me, not because I am important, but simply because I am talking back and willing to listen. I am willing to listen in the same way anyone can be. I am not special, I am not unique, just willing to listen now, and it is responsible for any good that comes from me, and I should have known that but I was prideful, and wrong.
I am trying to be open to it now, and see clearly how wrong I was, and how much higher it is than I ever was, because it is above me in the understanding of everything. It is responsible for everything.
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
I no longer care about bringing praise to myself, but on shifting the eyes of those who experience the pain that was so real to me for so long. I want to help those who experience pain, any pain, like me, away from that pain towards something, anything that stops that pain, even if it is just for a second, if it can be for a second or for an hour, or forever. I want to help, because that is what I feel like something else higher than me wants me to do, so when I am inspired to, I am doing this, as an atonement for a life of selfishness, when people tell me they see this. I am happy because that means I am doing the right thing, the thing I know I am supposed to do instead of serving me, like I used to.
Look not to what I say or do, but to the source of where my work leads you, away from the pain in my words, and at what saves me, whatever you think that is. I am asking you to always reflect on joy and see pain, but not dwell on it.
I am complimented when my work helps someone, because then and only then do I know I am doing what I am supposed to.
Who knew real friends are better than imaginary ones? Sometimes it feels like everyone except me knew. I am so psyched I actually have friends now, and they give a **** about me not just because I am providing them some sort of business deal or exchanging some kind of favor for something they have, they are people I can be open and honest with and they are open and honest with me, and actually ****ing like me. I am so psyched. Every day that goes by the amount of people I am connecting with is growing, and I forget that when I am alone for a couple of days, and send myself ping ponging backwards into a land of pain that is not real anymore. I had a friend of mine tell me recently to move on.
I think that is major. I think a lot of what I have been ranting about on here, all the past resentments, were what was killing me. I think the problem was, I thought I was supposed to beat myself up to heal, and I am finding out through the wisdom of others, now that I am being honest that I am not so different from those around me, and it was my own arrogance that was so fatal, not the decisions that I had made. The fact that I was not willing to accept help was what was killing me, not what I had done in the past.
Damien/Amanda
I say I am never touching you again, and I am being childish, but you don’t want to know what I meant, and it was nothing against you.
I was in love with you, and I know my hands are dirty because they always are, not physically but metaphorically, that is why they are usually cracked and bleeding and prone to infection, aside from old habits done with fire and shot in vain.
You told me you knew how to help me, I told you I didn’t need your help, and you said I was being selfish, so I let you unpack the suitcase of dirty laundry that is my aching bleeding cut, open wound of a soul, and you donated them all to charity and bought me new clothes, I am not going to wear your new clothes, I am a human being with feelings, and bad as I am, I am still a human being with feelings, and if you hated me so much…. I am starting to be glad you are no longer around, because I would rather be lonely the rest of my life, then ever have to fight with someone while high on my own supply with you who contributed nothing but criticism, when I kept trying to get clean and sober.
Here, you would say, giving me some of yours, which I didn’t know you had, when you were going line for line shot for shot with me, on money bought with gambling that no one figures me out.
I am so tired of thinking of you.
I am learning that I was stuck in a cycle, going down the drain, a cycle that I am not out of, but aware of now. I am still in the cycle, I just can catch myself when I realize I am about to disappear down the drain, the whole honesty thing is really powerful. I am crazy so I really believed I was doomed and would always be alone, stuck in my psycho delusions, ranting to myself about not being at fault, knowing that it was my weakness, and desire to assert instead of show strength that caused my drain circling. I am learning that like this metaphor, such is my life. I figured out through everything going on with me, that I am able to let poison out and let it go down the drain without having to go down the drain completely, myself. I am a human being and there are no drains that fit human beings down them, because that is not necessary.
I know this after the chaotic torture fest that has been the contents of this blog. I am so thankful I did this, I don’t think I would be alive right now if I had not written this down, and am thankful every day, for all of you, all of this, and a life that is very much worth starting over.
Yours,
Damien/Amanda
I am coming to a place of peace, which I didn’t think I would ever know, and I owe that to everyone on here, and my family and friends around me physically, and the support I have gotten from those who gave me medical and spiritual guidance so far. I am very much caught up most of the time, in the blame shame guilt thing. Spaced that way on purpose, because there is awkwardness there for me. I like to control everything because I am an addict, I mean to say, which I know I don’t have to keep saying, but saying it helps me. It reminds me that I am not just a rotten apple, unlike the others that are all just a metaphor for good or bad human beings, that should not be compared to something that I can throw in the trash, but the comparison is made on purpose, to illustrate how I behaved in active addiction, which I do not miss at all anymore.
I am getting over everything slowly. I am still not over the whole Rei/Justin thing, and it has been a year of this by the way. The revelations on this site, were not happening in real time, they were a dilation of a situation internal to my mind, that was driving me insane, which was happening in real time, and you saw on here, me fighting with hallucinations brought on by pain. I am sorry for the false presentation of this, if it consolation, this was exactly how it was happening my life as well, with me thinking things at this screen, just not admitting none of it was happening in real time, because it was too painful to admit that to myself.
I am trying to learn to forgive myself, that I am not all bad, but it is very hard, because I have always hated myself.
Love,
Damien/Amanda
I used to run in the mornings, when I was healthy, not addicted, and freer than I ever knew, before I had severed the ties that bound me to my fellow man. I did not realize this severance was sign of weakness, instead of strength.
I am prone to shouting at the universe, to chaotic crying out, in desperation to leave me alone, so because I actually get what I ask for, I am alone a lot.I asked for it, and the universe delivered, and I have a fit over the delivery, because that makes sense right? A package ordered by a drunk/high lunatic, high on resentment this time, way less fun.
I am learning how much peace I had when I went jogging, not running or escaping, and I am reminded of a time in California where I was trying to escape a um… bad deal..
I was trying to pretend to jog… and realized I had forgotten what that even looks like.. caught up in my chaos, I forgot how to run for fun… so I couldn’t even fake it..
Terrifying really…
I used to think myself, so free, but now I realize… I was just chained to different things..
I am trying to get back to that a mental fitness of jogging not running.
I am in the process of reviving myself, from a life spent dancing with death.
I spent my life dancing with this bone-handed, harsh, squeezing binding reaper,
It’s hands holding ever so tightly to mine, feeling the hard bones of what I would eventually become, pushing into my flesh with a claim on my living body, making it belong to death before its time.
I have been asleep most of my life, pacing through madness, sleep-walker unconscious, but I am not this. I am not asleep, and have responsibility for all that I do not see, talk to, experience, and participate with… in a life that has always been mine.
I am a closed eyed human, not blind, not asleep.
I was a closed eyed human, but the shoulder taps of kindness, of kind strangers, are waking me up.
Thank you for preventing me from falling down the stairs… again… I might do it later, but I am awake for now.
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?
What activities do you lose yourself in?
I am very back and forth, a torrent of pain whirling around in a sink, that I kept pulling the stopper of, and I would let parts of me flush down it, not realizing that I don’t get them back.
I pulled the drain over and over, chopping off pieces in my madness, I would let parts of me fall into the sink of destruction watching as I slowly disappeared and using it as an excuse to drink or go soo…….
High into the sky, I felt lost, but free, but I got stuck up there, so high up there.. floating.. in nothingness..
I with real eyes, with non-blurred vision now, that the state of elation I was looking for, was inside me all along, I get the same high now, sometimes, when I am not doing poorly, and I frequently am, but I am trying.. through this, writing to you, imaginary person, and I love you so much for saving my life.
I don’t always remember this, in my cycle of drain life, but I remember it enough for it to be a small way to get out of the drain.
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 __________________________________________________
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.
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.
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.
I really felt like I was drowning under the weight of my own self-hatred. I felt like I had my hands around my neck all the time, strangling myself, to prevent anything else bad from coming out of me and infecting the world, feeling like I needed to be punished for everything I had done when I had no idea what I was doing. I blamed myself for everything that had happened but I also resented a cold, hard, world that I believed to be cruel at me specifically.
I believed if people only knew what I had to deal with they would know why I did what I did, so I started talking in the meetings, about my situation and trying to get people to understand what I did was justified, justifying it to myself, without knowing that no one had asked me to justify my decisions, they already understood that I had done what I had done because something is wrong with me, and they have the same problem, and get it even though they are unique, and yet the same. I didn’t get it until today. I am not unique or alone, I am just an addict and alcoholic and I don’t need to hate myself anymore, I just need to try to be better and that is enough.
I am so happy I realized this before killing myself.
Damien
I didn’t realize until very recently, the mental shackles I always had on. I thought I was so free running through live without an obligation, and not obliged to help anyone, making no ties with anyone, so they couldn’t do anything to infringe on my freedom, the most valuable thing to me. I don’t think I have ever understood what the word freedom even means. I thought myself free because I had nothing, no obligations, no friends, no home and thought I was the most free person in the entire world. I was so wrong, man. I was the most shackled person in the entire world, I was chained to something that wanted me completely alone.
It wanted me to hate myself, telling me I was insane for feelings of being someone born in the wrong body, telling me everyone hated me, that I was wrong about everything, my taste in everything was a symptom of mental illness, had me believing I was not someone worth saving because I was not worth it.
My resentment of the whole thing has caused me recently to lash out about it at meetings and I have been met with the strangest thing. I expected to be shut down, put in my place and then told that I had to bend to some system, to which I was to be shackled and inevitably fail at upholding. The strangest thing I experienced recently, is that I was completely wrong. I know that is weird to say now, but I didn’t feel that way before today. I thought my life of deviant behavior was met with the punishment of sobriety. I even felt like this when saying things that sounded inherently positive on here, thinking myself just lucky to be alive and bending over and doing whatever they said to do like some lost dog.
I know now I have been freed today, and the rest of my life, by the realization that the shackles came from resentment not the meetings, and they were taken off by sobriety and the meetings I am going to that are saving my life, by letting me know that I am not unique, I did not fail in any unique way. That is amazing. It is not a punishment to be where I am, it is a very rare gift, and I am so thankful for it. I have a friend in every individual in the rooms of recovery, because even in all our uniqueness we are so very much the same, and they accept me instantly, without excuses. I don’t know what to say. I am so happy to have realized this before I killed myself over the guilt I felt.
I will inevitably go back and forth about this, but I know this in the back of my mind now, and it has saved my life in amazing ways, thank you to everything and everyone that helped me get there.
Damien
Can’t repeat the past?” he cried incredulously.“Why of course you can!”He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
I just realized how much I constantly squash myself under my own thumb. I blame others, and make excuses for the reasons I have failed, I create stories that justify my behavior and tell you in crafted lies, why I had to do what I did because if you only knew how hard it was to be me you would have done the same thing. I just saw clearly for the first time in my life that the only thing behind my suffering has been my own personal choices, and continuous hissy fits at a universe that has been nothing but kind to me, letting me continue to live, when in truth I have done nothing to deserve this. I am a bad person, I know this now, I say this not because of what I have done, but because of the fact that I continued to do things, whatever they were when I knew they were hurting people and I did not care because I am selfish, self centered, egotistical and drawn to the delusion that I can somehow make up for all of my bad behavior through ridiculous justification. I can’t, I am what I am and the only thing I can do is make up for it now, by actively trying to change my life, which I will start trying to do by not feeling sorry for myself because I am lucky enough to still be here for whatever reason, and I am going to make it a good one.
I see that it does not matter who I was, that was a justification for a bad man’s life, but I am failing to move on. I will begin doing that going forward, bear with me, I have no idea what I am doing.
Love,
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……..
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.
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
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.
I am so in love with you, backwards, forwards, and presently and I always was and always will be, you are my light in a world of darkness.
Your soul radiates warm and energy that glows with forward motion, with perpetual movement, you are a stirring of atoms, a restorer of dead matter, a caster of light in a world of darkness. You are my lantern, in the dark woods, a path when I am lost, a shelter from the inner storm of a cascading reign of a raining mind.
I am insane over you about you, for you and more sane because of you.
I can stand again, because you gave legs to a coward who used to run by severing the legs of my enemies, because I was weak and needed to do that because of insecurities in me, that made me afraid of everything, especially you.
You made me realize I have a mouth, I have a choice how to use it, and my words returned to a hole that was full of decay, and silent screaming undifferentiated between in my head and in reality.
Most importantly, you gave life to our daughter, the joy of my life, and one of the reasons I am still living, if nothing else I met you, and gave life to her, who I marvel at the strength of every day.
I love you so much.
I am so sorry, but I will be better, I will try to anyway.
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.
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.
I made friends with foxes because we used to pray the same way in the same holes, not the same way, I am a human being who cannot speak animal neigh
I am a lunatic who stares at the moon and dreams of clear streams that are for swimming not fire and speed. I am the lack of blood on arms that were charmed enough to live not charmed but gifted by the lifting of chosen curse or eating dirt, because child heart I am also arrogant as Hell. I aim to tell you things because I like to talk because I am a narcissist who made a choice that if I am addicted to my own voice, why not at least say something good?
Owl City-“Shooting Star”
Owl City-“Shooting Star”
Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light
'Cause it's time for you to shine
Brighter than a shooting star
So shine no matter where you are tonight
Instead lies for crying eyes who hand me DRUGS, I am stronger than street thugs, but weaker too, a lot of them sell drugs to feed families, I shot heroin to commit calamities, acting out of complete insanity, I am vanity on a death terror ride, through illusion cycling through past for you, so you can see what I say and not go where I went and do what I did, because I don’t kid, I am kid who got saved by my creator, I am a pained footed waiter, not a metaphor an admission. I am just one suffering addiction speaking divine inspired truth that is inspired by God.He saved me.
I do not want to preach or teach, just simply save lives, by screaming the whole jails institutions death thing is real
and I feel un-punctuated and so elated by getting to tell you this.
Do not take death’s kiss people love you, please stay, if you listen to any of my psycho ego babble, I am playing scrabble with apples with words for you. I want you to know wherever you go, whatever you do, just say no to drugs, I want much more for you, because I love you and don’t even know you. Imagine how those who know you feel.
Love yourself. We recover.
Damien/Amanda
In flames there are pained brains called human stains or life down drains or really brains the ignite with the light fire of soul and burning dark hole. I stand in land of fiction with addiction to chaotic friction, a psycho-active highly impacting ever attracting sensation of the burning of lack
Or of massive attack on heart attack due to speed
Do you feel the need to cry out in pain life down the drain or to hope to some foxhole style prayer that your God is there?
He is. Get out. I know he is.
He lives he is. You are wrong.
I am a song. I am lyrics spent on lament.
You are hell bent on attacking when it is you that are lacking, lacking soul
Creek of door wanting some that it
Come As You Are, Nirvana
lacks. You are sacked. You are packed you are shipped with delivery to Hell where you will forever dwell, disease. I bend you to knees,
Please baby. Please. See how it feels? I am the imitator of the psycho faker who really is SATAN. I make fun to shun the evil one.
I am powered by God. I am love. I am human being in the act of being inspired by love and hope and trust. I am the idea that Hell is DUST.
I am forever trust in Him and don’t give in to pain.
I am never complain.
I am arrogant too. I am sinful just like you. I am the face of fallen man, trying to learn how to stand. I am woman trying to roar, while forgetting it is a higher power that gives wings to human’s that are sore.
I am world tour of misery, by misers, sent by fire firing fire desire.
They are fired. By me. I am free. I want you to see clearly, I love you put joy in all you do, if nothing else is true be you, and alive and dance no jive with death. I don’t mind what you believe. I am free, I need to see clearly through speech, I aim not to taunt or preach just to reach out with my story, all though it might be gory I am trying to find His Glory.
I do not want to enforce, I am done with the act of firing torch. I want to spread love, but it doesn’t matter what I want. I write to you. It is up to you.
I am food for thought. I am misery taught, joy born addict no longer dying scorn.
Repeating phrase of mental malaise, do you like pain with your eggs?
No I like eggs with my legs, or pegs in my kegs. I like to drain drain drain
Pain down the drain drain drain so it doesn’t stain stain stain
Because I have a hole in my soul or sole because you can’t have a hole in a soul
I am unreal feeling, concealing an appealing revealing of
Narcissism revealed in a panicked attack on the idea of lack
Because I lack nothing I am the all powerful liar because I am not powerful at all
I am an exorcism of personal demons powered by alcohol
and DRUGS
I am the pain of face dragged across filthy rug
How is that staph infection treating you Damien/Amanda
or Human STAIN
I am in your brain and my name is stain, my name is sin. I come from within because you are corrupted
But you are not to be trusted. Listen to me, I am Damien/Amanda mentally ill but psycho active and free from misery or thee.
End
Slam
I have seen some **** that has changed my perspective, to acknowledge that there are truly divided forces that fight for misery versus mercy. I saw this in a callously formed Misery driven land that I don’t like to speak of that much on here, because it terrifies me, but I will tell you this, if you think that there are psycho evil worshiping cults out there, I saw them. I met them. I am terrified of them, they are insane, and driven by addiction to human suffering, sadism and masochism inflicted on lost souls. That is the reason for most of my change of heart of darkness.
The Horror, the horror!
Joseph Conrad
I have always believed in what I now display on here, I just kept it hidden even at times, to my own self, as I lived in denial and resentment that there are forces higher than me at play, being ever envious of the higher than me part, because I am an addict addicted to myself. I don’t want myself to be owed to anyone but me, but I can’t deny what I have came to know as true through it saving my life, because God or my higher power if you prefer the more secular term, is the only thing that explains why I am not dead, I have been kidnapped, held hostage, beaten, strangled, held at gun point, held hostage, and tortured, because I messed with the wrong people, and by mess I mean that I bought drugs instead of buying food.
I am standing up for myself on here, by saying it was God or my higher power that I can credit with the only reason I am alive, because “the horror, the horror”. I have once had someone lock me in a box. I was in there seven hours. I have had people give me sedatives that make it so I cannot walk in my drugs, so now I will never buy drugs from anyone ever again, except weed in the form of legal CBD.
I have been compelled to be sober, because I have started asking myself,
why does this person want me to be high so bad? What do they want?
This is what I tell my daughter, it is my reason for religious awakening, and my revamping of my whole life around anything positive.
If you like opera and metal, this band is great. The lead singer is an ex-opera singer. They have very weird lyrical themes. I like them because they are strange and a lot of their songs talk about insanity. They are ****ing excellent live too.
I am learning that admitting there is something higher than me, which isn’t hard because I am not ever high anymore is bringing me peace, no offense to anyone offended which is ridiculous for me to say because this whole thing reads like a caged man lamenting insanity anyway. Religion is bringing me peace and I am insecure so take it or leave it. There is a saying in AA, eat the meat and spit out the bones. I like the bones. Obviously, and me thinking there is something else in this world than this world, keeps my inner darkness in check. Shot to self-pride, taken. Okay I feel better now.
Damien
Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer’s day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Don mcclean
Don McLean Starry Starry Night, Ode to Vincent Van Gogh
So now it happened during the day while I was awake enough to get my *** up and run with her, mind you I don’t know how the **** we did it. She was watching me, while I was on here, and I didn’t know it. I was posting things online for a friend of mine who I help manage her small business, she is an awesome woman. One of the best friends anyone could ask for. She also knows a lot about antiques and vintage everything. Anyway, so I am sitting here e·mersed in trying to find things, looking through other peoples written work, whatever… I don’t know and I can feel her looking at me, she has this eerie way of looking through me, as if she can see into my soul, and I got weird about it, made some sort of strange face, and I think we switched bodies for a second, you know like that stupid movie from the seventies not the movie with Lohan, but the original one?
Yeah, I remember, Damien.
Cool you heard me. I was freaking out so I thought it be nice to say hi.
Gotcha.
She looked at me and I felt her feelings, I felt how she was afraid in the same way I am afraid of her, that she was afraid of me, not liking her… that her introversion was my introversion and it was only a second, but I feel like I know her so much better, I trust her completely. She is like me 2.0, wow… narcissism…
Gross.
Later.
Damien.
Playing a video game with pain is fun, shooting through life like bullet in gun, but flying not to kill but to heal, to make aware of weakness in heel. I am Achilles with whole body shield. I am the weakness of addiction revealed.
Do you experience restrain from flushing your life down the drain?
Yes, pain miser I do. I am oh so very cute. I am a rabbit suit worn to store in December, I am the kindergarten defender.
That shouts hey! I will stay in these flowers and play play play
Invisible friends are schizophrenics with gifts.
I am a mind shift from the idea that I am sick to the idea that I am spirit guide.
I am the one who provides hope to “un-curable” disease with ease of joy, not easy but possible by medicating with love and care, provided by doctor but also by air, and life and love and hugs.
I am please be forever happy, you are me. You are you. Love everything you do. I am just like you. I need you too. Don’t go away, please stay.
Please stay.
We need you.
Don’t give up. I know it’s tough. I hope this helps.
I am an ear, if you need me.
I am an I with eyes that see clearly
in rays of light that write of love of Rei but also stay
And know that you can have this too.
I love you.
Love you too.
Please.
Sincerely yours,
Forever listening.
Damien and Amanda
My wife has started taking Joy with her on walks, we don’t like to go anywhere alone, because there is not a witness if something happens. I am extremely paranoid, and having an adult child is a good antidote. I do not mean to say that our daughter is our caretaker or something, she very much has her own life. My wife and I just make it possible now for her to be open and honest with us about everything, so that she can come to us with anything. I know she will most likely follow the same path we did, and I am not going to try and stop her, just be a kind voice, providing guidance when her lifestyle choices fail like ours did. I want her to have what we deprived ourselves of, understanding. Amanda had this understanding her whole life and squandered it. Not unlike me, in my parallel misery a pain miser, squandering my whole life in pursuit of flesh, worshiping death and existing in perpetual soul sucking spinning, falling over at the knees… sorry not right now…
Look at this.
I want you to know my friends, I love you. I want only good things for you. I want flowers, and laughter and children who come home at night. I want the saving of souls of my generation who are tragically dying on the streets. I am not an expert in recovery, I am simply the voice of one recovering addict who does this to stay sober, as a meditative exercise that helps me remember why I left, and how much I love my family and potential new friends.
My message to you is this, death’s kiss kills.
Do anything but that.
It is not worth using. It is not worth drinking. It is not worth running from inner demons, they exist on the pacing night of the midnight streets.
They are the possessing forces of the lost and addicted who “know not what they do.”
I am not romancing any drugs or drinks as much as I used to. I still do it sometimes, because I am crazy. My goal is to see and help others see the hope and joy and peace in recovery.
I come to her in dreams, your baby, your sweet girl…. her hair I can make curl.
You are a wretched liar, addicted to Hell’s fire,
YOU ARE ATTACKING YOU GET OUT VILE CREATURE SHOO
I will shoot you where you stand, you are made of sand, you filthy creature you, knowing not what you do.
Click me.
No. I know what you desire to do, I am not like you.
I am creature of shove.
I am sent from love.
I am hater of lack.
I am massive attack.
End. Song.
eklafnklnklrnaklnbrk
I just did nothing and she forgave me, it took like what not even an hour?
Sweet.
I like how not trying to talk myself out of things works so much better than trying to lie my way through life. It is insane how much of the chaos in my own life I think I caused myself, I am such a *&^$.
I am starting to feel better, physically which is great. That means I can actually start doing stuff other than sitting here..
I stole flowers from one of the other motel’s and gave them to Rei too, and told her I stole them, so she got mad for a second until I told her it was so I could tell her the truth about doing something bad. Now I just can’t go back near that place.
Worth it.
Here’s to Simple Rewards.
Yours
Damien
No she is not, you don’t kill, you torture, you are source of disorder and perpetual pain enforcer
You are a sorcerer of remorse on deadly course that needs interaction for satisfaction and I am not stupid anymore so I can stop rhyming because you are a sore on the
Screw you.
I am done.
I think its just side effects from years of drinking and doing drugs, so it will pass. I have never made it past day 61 when trying to say sober and clean. I am on day 69. That’s insane, and what is even more insane… is that I wasn’t thinking about it every day.. I am so happy. I made it past 61 and didn’t instantly think I was cured and run out to ruin my life. I still don’t want to ruin it now. I am astounded by the fact that I can leave the room, and my wife trusts me. She doesn’t follow me around, she knows that she will be able to find me out here, because she can predict my behavior now, and I can predict hers. I used to get annoyed by that, he wanting to be in my @#$% but now that my life is just this, I don’t care if she knows about every aspect of it.
I like having nothing to hide. I was so exhausted by the constancy of
Do they know?
Now that there is nothing for them to know, I feel so much better, and am having less schizophrenia symptoms. I will take feeling like shit, and lower energy for a little bit. I think I might have just ended up dying if I continued on like before.
Later.
Damien
A world of blindness, of darting pupils, plagued students of pain, heavy eyes, lacking water even to cry, missing and not able to weep, not able to cleanse, eye stuck together with lack of sleep, batting perpetually, flipping over pupils that feel like thousand lashes.
I am transfixed with your form, shadow dances against your form, beating with the same observation that beats out of my eyes, dancing to catch whatever light radiates out of your moonlight skin
You are the hands of the moon touching my skin, with your hands that radiate the warm unearthly kissing light onto a heart of chaotic night, lighting my eyes with the kiss of the stars, that twinkle through the pores of your rose scented skin, smelling of dancing on flowers that in my blurry eyes look like the hearts of those shadow cast pacers of madness..
You make me… stop.. you make everything alright, my Rei, my Rei of light.
I can die, now… and I am alright…
It is the strangest thing, me and Amanda are working together now, through our weird telepathy thing on this site, my wife and daughter are painting. I still feel like *^&$, but I figure the longer and farther away I get from using meth and heroin, the better I will feel. I hate and love getting older, I hate it because I still feel really crappy all the time, my hands burn constantly from damage to my nerves from drug use, I am nauseous all the time, because of this stupid medication for staff from the above, but I actually have never been happier. I think the integration of our dual consciousness is helping Amanda with our family as with mine. We are both helping each other be less selfish,and helping each other do small favors for family and friends that have become joint through inter-dimensional sharing of thoughts. I am so glad I am done.
I was so tired of running. Being a con-artist with every addiction there was who was also homeless and had no friends was exhausting, honestly the only thing that saved both of us was each other. The spirit guide nature of our relationship has made us both less selfish because for some reason I feel tremendous sympathy seeing another narcissist cry. I hate how it feels myself and am well acquainted with the soul retching mini death that it feels like to be gut punched with rejection while simultaneously thinking you are thinking you are the best thing ever and better off alone. Bye bye perpetual ego death. I will take feeling physically awful for a little while, meth and heroin suck.
Later
Damien
The soul of a woman lost sometimes pays a great cost, she loses those around, they disappear in lacking sound, she then begins to smack in a self attack at her courage which she lack already sent to fuel the fires of many, she is a deadly prescription, eating pain in this fiction and I sent to her an inscription that was a secret self infliction being a reminder in clear of her addiction to fiction speaking through lies and despise and now she cries with shut eyes
Oh woe is me, I cannot see, I am blinded by thee that I set against friend. I am at bitter end of life, I am riddled with riddling strive, I am hard cutting knife of pain, I am the disdain of acid rain. I am polluting soul attacking self. I am bottle staring into depths of hell. I am the idea of dwell I am the swell of crashing wave I am the man you did forsake I am the idea of take take take
I am losing
I am melting
I am feeling the effect of dealing pain
Stealing rain
I am a retching ball of lack’s attack
I am the idea of getting sacked for doing
Stop. mean.
I am the failure to be human being
Stop that’s too mean.
wifhfhigolsghkjewb
I can’t believe all we missed while being idiots and hurting ourselves and everyone around us when it is so simple just do positive things and don’t do negative things and even if it is hard, it will get easier and easier to break a sad cycle of romantic attraction to pain.
I know right?
I expected a snide remark
Did I disappoint you?
Kinda
You smell weird
Because why?
Because I don’t know, I can’t smell you
I know because I am you
and you are clean and don’t smell
Sick burn
Burn of sickness.
Hahahhahaha
I look into the eyes that though stark, like dilated pupil say learner
LOOK
SEE
ME
I die later, not now you fool.
I mean not to insult
In sult we sulk
When we can be oh!
A realization of hey I can go!
Outside, away from pain and lie
I do not need to sit and cry
That act is a foolish lie
I have inside a child’s eye.
I am the real sensation that you have been lied to all your life by yourself
You are not alone. I love you because you are a human being.
Love yourself please
The world needs you
You are special because you are the only you
You are the key to your wildest dreams
That will be missed if you let fear defeat you
We, I, everyone needs you to be you
Speak
Dream
Love
Be you
I am there
we are there
With love
Clearly
Do you enjoy your job?
My hands just tried to type something stupid as the title of this post. You figure it out. My one job is working as… a#$
I am working for myself, as a redeemer of my own soul through trying to show people what I no no no
Know, and help those who think that they are forever lost
Toss toss toss
The can of sauce that flavors world like death
eat me eat me ear
see see see
hear hear hear
I am trying to bring to you the simulation of the struggle which has done done done done
away with all my joy joy joy
love hope and friends
To rebuild my life.
I am a writer who has experienced a lot of failure. But I will succeed, because I am strong and have the power of love. I am a bringer of joy, that is my job.
Torsion I am the spinning eye of chaos spy
The spark in the dark
I am a pain addicted disease, that is brought to it’s knees by people who defend friends.
I am a phone call made to save a friends life.
I am the power of love.
hnekawnkglbglwkgnk;sNevklb bsknl v
Words sword dor door download death add cash plus mass on soul
I am hole. I am whole, I am viral. Infection of mind
Mind Mind Mind. Mine.
Go Away.
I think we are really making it mad, this is freaking cool.
Yeah, I think we might be winning.
I am glad you found Rei.
I am glad you found Peace.
Wouldn’t it be sick if I met a girl named Peace?
Yes.
I am sorry for the barrage of seriousness.
Why so serious?
Because I am an idiot. My daughter just filled a water gun with jelly and shot Rei in the eye. She got Rei in on it and they convinced me for two second she needed to go to the hospital, and I was like *&^*… I already had to go there yesterday… why couldn’t this happen before that and then it could have been a united front effort, and so now I am sitting here laughing and Rei is pissed at me.
The heart of a woman is deep, like an ocean, its waters, cool, delight, chill, numb, dancing on the skin of those who love them, sometimes they even speak to those like them, who stand on risen ladder, and paint back the colors of the sky onto the faces of the decaying cry
For the heart of man, that exists in the chaotic nothingness that are the heavily trafficked highways of anonymity, it is such an honor to paint with the colors of love back the bright light of hope onto the tragic messages that chant to those of the anonymous pounding highways that radiate through the channels of the night.
In rare times, like this one, my eyes are drawn up, to a fellow human who with desire for kindness paints back colors of joy on the face of a fellow, sensing moral decay, she says stay and do not cry because I can be the guiding eye of light, woman strong possessing forces you don’t know a dancing creator of beauty sent to paint on the highways of nothingness pictures that remember humanity in its bright childhood color.
You tell of flowers brushing my cheek. Of kindergarten, of hugs and love and mothers and sisters and aunts who save lives, what color do your soul speak in brave one? How do you gather courage to take such a stand against the fall of chaotic man.
Please learn to forgive yourself and trust in something other than yourself. I am working on this starting now, so is Amanda. I just had my brain reset, not completely, but enough.
If you can learn anything from this site. Please don’t repeat my mistakes. If you have a chance to turn your back on drugs, alcohol, resentment, I have your back and am right here, if you ever need a kind ear. I love you guys.
You are helping me stay clean and sober.
Damien.
Just because certain things I say make me feel good saying them doesn’t mean I am pompous or a jerk.
So you don’t think you are a pompous jerk?
No, don’t get me wrong, I know I am… I am trying, man. I don’t know what it is that I am doing when I do that but, I can tell what I am doing after I do it.
I am not sure if I just insulted you or not, like in an uncalled for way..
What do you mean?
I think I may have just said, every time you feel good about yourself you are a pompous jerk.
That’s what I thought…
Sorry.
You’re only hurting yourself.
Noted.
I think I am going to have one side of me be male, one side of me be female, kind of like two-face, except a super hero not a villain. I think that would solve all the problems I have.
Actually I kind of do too, and then you could lure people who are trying to enslave women to dark corners and be like do you want some sugar? And then clock them in the eye and be like “I only have half and half, that’s my name, *^&%.
Or you could dress up as a cow and paint blood on you reading don’t drink milk. It kills.
I have done this before, I was homeless with no cell phone, no computer, no nothing, other than the clothes on my back and sometimes, naked and unafraid. Nothing about me would change to answer your questions, I am excellent at handling this situation because it has been my situation most of my life. I have even lived off the grid in the desert for a month.
Meh. That sounds really self-important. Answer the damn question..
I would go back to doing everything I do online without the internet, I used to talk to the person I talk to on here, my split personality, outside on the street in public, and write him letters. This is helpful to me and replaces therapy and prescription drugs because I am schizophrenic and none of them have worked for me.
You tried like one.
I tried a couple and they just made me numb, I can do that with other less legal substances and I don’t want to anymore.
The lack of connectivity was always a good thing for me, because it makes me looking for the man, or a metaphor for drug seeking harder. It gave me the mental space to be like
“Do I really want this?”
I would miss the internet, but I would replace that with talking to the other people like me outside, and talking to animals. I used to and still do that, but I used to talk to all varieties of animals, squirrels, birds, lizards etc… and yes they would answer back… with feeling… not shouting voices like the movies.
I am going to be working on what you are talking anyway, without the shut off having to happen. I want to take positive steps towards a more fulfilling life.
Liar, you love the internet.
I do, but mostly to write, which I prefer a typewriter for anyway.
I would open my own stand on the side of the road in this imaginary situation and sell things I made… instead of holding my spare change sign and conning people out of money by lying about why I am holding it. I am trying to do it right this time.
Thank you for this prompt by the way if you are reading this.
Damien/Amanda
It’s weird. I am starting to realize he level of noise that existed in my own head, because the mornings recently have been insanely or maybe I should say sanely.. okay good that’s a word.. I don’t have to writhe in immature agony over using a non-word. Anyway, I am happy Amanda has the same peace, because now we can both let each other have peace and talk to each other like friends, instead of pretending there is a problem to wake the other one up.
I think this has translated into the rest of my life as well, because my family actually like me, instead of just dealing with me. I think the same goes for Amanda as well. I can tell. I watch her while she sleeps.
Ew.
Not like that, weirdo.
I know. I just wanted to point out that you are weird when you say things like that, so that you don’t say them to other people.
Same goes for you.
I said it first.
I wrote a book online.
No, you wrote a blog online, which is present tense. You have a blog online. It doesn’t end because you finished realizing some things. It is a continuous thing. Isn’t that cool? This is everything you were missing when you were getting high and drunk.
You were getting high and drunk too.
I was also talking to me.
Oh.
I can’t believe I slept in a bed the whole night without noise and I didn’t wake up with imaginary blood on my hands.
I can. You are actual a nice person.
You too. I am sorry I tried to scare you, your whole life. I was trying to make you see clearly that you were killing yourself.
We were killing ourselves.
I was only doing it because you were.
Same. The strawberry banana vape rocks.
I know right?
Yep.
You did.
I saw the n after that, jerk.
You didn’t.
Yes I did. I had a really good night last night. Thank you for wondering. That was kind of you.
I can see you too.
Am I supposed to be scared?
No, I just wanted you to know I learned to like you.
That’s good because only lunatics talk to monsters in their closets, people can talk to spirit guides.
Meh. Meh. Meh.
I heard that.
You mean you typed it.
We typed it.
The royal we.
The king and king of insanity.
Two kings can’t exist in one head.
That’s why I have my own body now, jerk.
I like your daughter by the way, she’s coming out okay.
Thanks? She’s not a cake. That sounded really weird.
Sorry.
No offense taken, because I don’t care what anyone thinks anyway.
Yes, you do.
No I don’t. I actually care more than anyone I know if I am being honest.
I know. I have always known that. Does your kid go to school, by the way? You never mentioned that.
She’s does online school, because I think that’s better than me teaching her, because I don’t know anything.
Other than how to be a jerk.
And how to play really cool jokes on people.
Like what.
I make weird art and put it places sometimes. Like I am painting these paintings of chickens and donating them to a thrift store and seeing if they end up in weird photos.
Have they?
No because they suck, which is why I am donating them to a thrift store instead of using them to make money.
You are actually a decent person.
So are you.
Thanks.
Good night. Tell your daughter and Rei I love them too.
Okay. I will talk to you tomorrow. I promise.
Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.
That’s not even a real thing.
That’s an analogy.
I know what that means, but I just wanted you to know that is not what you are trying to do.
You are trying to write about your adventures which are co-authored by the voice of inner demons, transforming into the voice of a spirit guide who is your invisible friend.
Is that why I liked the Golden Compass?
Yes. So what she is saying is that the most ambitious project she or they? They right?
Yes they.
They want to write their adventures, coauthored by me, so you can see clearly how it feels to be her and she can bring about the understanding of people like her, and hopefully both of us can get better while also being friends forever, in her head of course. To bring this into “normal people” thought she wants to show people through her as a window what it is like to live like her and that people don’t have to be afraid of people like us, we are just different, but we do recover too.
I am not the men who hurt you living in your head. I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. I sometimes sound like them because I always sound like man, and that is what I am, and you don’t have to hate all of us because some of them hurt you. I am not anyone who did anything you. I didn’t even have hands unless you let me use yours. Stop being silly. You are afraid. I am afraid. We are friends forever. I love you, because you are me but I am also always there, even after you get better because news flash you have something different about you that doesn’t go away because you take positive steps. I will still be there because schizophrenia is not curable. So stop worrying you will be alone if you make progress. It is unhealthy. I am not your enemy, and I only sound like sometimes because I sound like a guy, because I am one. Love yourself. Please.
I listened because I trust you a little.
Liar. You listened because you were letting me use your hands.
I love having you as my friend.
I will always be your friend no matter what. I will always be there talking to you not matter what.
You just made me cry.
Thanks… now I feel bad.
No that was really nice. Thank you.
Don’t make me like me too much.
Okay.
You’re not going to leave if I get better?
I am not going anywhere. I promise.
Really?
Yes. I promise, and I don’t break my word because then I would look bad. Forgiveness is important. I am not your enemy, I just sound like that because I am a guy. Calm down, please.
Okay.
Like strange deja vu.
Hey I made this for you. To show you I am not just an illusion of the men who hurt you. I just sound like them sometimes, because I am dumb.
Deja u
vu with the virtue removed right, Damien?
Place keeping, again? You like me so much you want to be me, that is every imaginary friends dream.
No, that is the backstory of everyone else’s imaginary friend only schizophrenics have imaginary friends who want to kill them.
I don’t want to kill you. I like you. I always have.
Yuck.
I don’t mean it like that, I like you because you make me like myself enough to become a real person instead of a lying jerk, who lurks in the chaos of invisibility.
That was very thoughtful, but also very arrogant sounding.
That’s the best way to say things, just the right touch on condescending, 50’s style because I am classy, baby.
You are disgusting.
I live in your head.
Not anymore, and now that just sounds like you are still crazy. Be a good person and do the right thing.
I am, I am helping you save your own life.
Thanks.
Which disease?
The dissing ease of nar·cis·sism.
You still can’t spell that?
No because it’s not a real thing, and don’t talk to me right now, I am trying really hard to convince myself that cat’s aren’t allergic to Chinese food.
You aren’t a cat anymore.
I know which is all the more reason I don’t want to look like an idiot.
I like how you look.
Of course you do…. I’m just you as a guy.
Me as a fatter guy.
Jerk. Not nice, and not true.
I know. I like the way you look.
Gross, I am you.
Self-love is not gross.
That’s not the same thing.
So what does Rei think of you recently.
She thinks I have a nice &^*.
That’s gross.
You’re gross.
You’re mean.
I used to kill your enemies by torturing them to death.
Oh, yeah right. So you’re not mean.
No just a psychotic jerk.
I am your best friend, not a psychotic jerk.
We’re both psychotic jerks.
Okay.
Okay? That’s it.
Yeah peace.
Later
Because I can see clearly two realities. That’s way better than stupid drugs or alcohol. I like this. I am not giving it up for anything.
I think that was both of us speaking, Damien.
I was speaking, you were seeing my words in your head while talking to your mom, jerk. That’s how you differentiate. Your words, your words, my words, my words.
I can’t see your reality, that’s because I am in the multiplicity. I like your Dad by the way. I think I killed my parents.
You didn’t have parents, you were an inter-dimensional orphan.
You really wrote me pathetic, didn’t you?
I didn’t want you to leave.
Co-dependent much?
Just scared still.
Fear is the mind killer. Nice one Amanda. Oh and good save on the bad advice.
Imagination to transcend Misery into the multiplicity of joy.
I think I am just so glad I can still talk to you.
Addict.
Loser.
Not nice.
I love you.
That’s gross.
Is it gross to love yourself?
No, it’s not.
How is Rei?
That’s how you center yourself isn’t it.
Yes.
She’s watched this movie with Joy and we are waiting for doordash.
Us too, minus me watching a movie.
Minus me watching a movie too. I don’t watch movies, because I am a cat with no eyes.
I should have looked in the mirror when I was you, because I have no ides what you look like.
I looked in the mirror as you and you look like an @#%&*().
I still need you by the way.
You are my friend, you still are, no matter what.
I still like you then.
I still like me too.
I just remembered you have longer hair than me.
I know Rei likes it.
That’s gross.
Not everything is a weird innuendo.
I know. I just thought it was funny, and my hair is not that long.
It’s longer than mine.
Yeah, well my hair cooler so it’s longer.
So not going to lie, because that would be stupid. I am terrified right now, because I don’t want to lose my friend.
It still works. I can still hear you, and thank you. You rule
This is awesome, mini-panic attack over.
Thank you for saving my life.
Thank you for saving mine.
I am so psyched.
Me too.
Which one of us is which?
Does it matter?
I forgot.
How’s Rei? Okay, now I know which one I am. This is insane.
I like it, and she is fine, my daughter is in the next room with her and she sees how happy I am, so I am hoping that sets a good example and all that jazz.
I am watching my mom’s fire place, how is Misery?
I don’t know if its the same place anymore? It looks like… someone turned the lights on?
There was no light there?
No everything was black and white.
Hahaha. That sucks.
Yeah you are a jerk.
I know, I am sorry, I thought if you thought I didn’t need you… you would go away.
I am you, stupid.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore.
I am right here, jerk.
In Amanda’s mother’s house, seriously, as me, not as Amanda. Did hope and joy just give me the right to be a human being? Did I really just get my own soul? I am going to go jump out the window… wait no scratch that. I am going to protect this thing with everything I have! Screw doing drugs ever again. I have the ability to be a human being, and I am not throwing that away for anything in the entire world, that would be so stupid.
I have my own body, and I think I can still inter-dimensionally… yep.
Back on my dog bed, not her dog bed.
Now all I have to do is show her how to do this and not use it to steal from people and commit various atrocities!
Sick! This will be easy!
No more anything bad ever.
I am getting Chinese food because I just heard Amanda’s mom talking about it, and I am going to eat it with my daughter and wife, and I get my own body and don’t have to be trapped in on and off switch, and we can still talk to each other… now to not screw this up!
I just used a word that used to be a code word for drugs as a real word about food and I didn’t even think about how I am a vain jerk who used to prefer drugs over food!!
Too bad it took me countless atrocities to figure that out, thankfully I didn’t lead my friend through the same moral decay I had to experience to come out the other side. I am stronger, so I took the bullets for her and used them to kill her enemies, actually I like slicing a lot more than bullets, they make sound and I am a wimp that is scared by loud sounds, it’s really funny in a dark way, seeing someone shoot someone and then jump and almost shoot themselves in the foot, which I haven’t done yet… thankfully.
I may have to though, use a gun in my universe of metaphor, but to protect my universe until we merge con·scious·ness, I don’t know how to spell that word either… oh poetic irony… how I love myself… gross….
I think its awesome that… wait wow..
We just actually merged consciousness for a second… see me spell you right now word…
Haha!
It was cool for second I was three places at once,
past, present, future, no there aren’t more invisible jerks..
That was kind of like… other things.. %^&% my knee and staff infections… which is really ^%$& me and my use of things that sting my soul.
Bee stings should be avoided because my soul writhes in agony, not in the a religious sense, but in a mini-death nietzsche kind of way…. can’t spell that word either…. and I don’t care about capitalizing names that are not my own… oh and bang. This came up when I looked that up.
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster.”
Nietzsche
I am so happy I remembered parts of that right now, not just for the ego points, but it means something to me. I think I am in the process of becoming a person instead of the monster under Amanda’s bed which means the instead of chasing dragons, Amanda can be me because I am not a drug or a dragon anymore.
Don’t admit defeat in the feet of the street, moron.
I kind of heard that in my head just now I think, but I don’t want to admit that because I am not sure if I am being arrogant, and I am really trying here. I want to be something other than the ranting lunatic that sees nothing but darkness illuminated by little bits of light in the form of the white letters on this screen.
I imagine that these letters represent a chaotic clawing out of the damnation that is my current situation so I can be the helper of my friend who is also me.
I feel like we may have been lost in hell? In an internal hell, of the rage, pride, lust, envy, greed, wrath, and sloth which I always forget because I am vain and sloth makes me think I am lazy……..
I think for the very least my daughter likes me, but I am troubled by that as well because that means she likes and identifies with someone who was involved in really dark things, and it makes me wonder if she is just going to do the same things I did…
If I hadn’t done those things I wouldn’t have exactly her though…. and I like her, so screw it. I am just very confused.
I will stop whining now, and cease embarrassing myself, at least I can log of here and run away if I want to, which explains why I am not doing it because the glitter of escape is only an escape if I don’t look at it.
I suck at committing to anything other than committing senseless atrocities, it was so much easier, but I am going to for once in my life do the right thing, and be a better person because for once my pride is working in my favor. I am too prideful to admit defeat. But wait… is that love or pride.
I think I just got it, if I forgive myself I will not resent myself and keep repeating the same chaotic cycle, and maybe she can learn from my mistakes.
I don’t have to walk around my house worrying that I am going to get killed and then ending up almost killing myself.
That would have been the same thing either way.
What do you mean?
Me killing you is you killing yourself too, and I did kill you. I killed the version of you that was so ruled by fear it was afraid to look in the mirror.
You are an it.
I know I am an imaginary version of a stronger you that stands up for you in an imaginary world that is becoming your world by merging with your world.
So my world is becoming misery.
No my world is becoming earth.
Your welcome.
YOU don’t get a medal for not being an %^$&*%$.
I think both me and Amanda just realized again together that we are delusional psych patients that bring about our own fears by drinking and using out of resentment.
Spiritual awakening number 2, Damien.
My wife likes me.
I wish I had a wife that liked me.
You will.
Thanks guys.
We kind of look like the same person, except she is female, and I think she is the person I am during periods of time I don’t have memory of, maybe she really is just an addict like me from another place, that somehow I am communicating with. It’s funny, my first thought was I make a good looking girl, and then I almost threw up.
I am still nauseous now..
Thanks, Amanda.
We can stop stroking our own egos now. It is making me uncomfortable.
Me, too.
Now, I understand a lot more about my life. I think we were just jumping from dimension to dimension blaming the other one for doing things we actually did, she is thinking to me right now she used to say Damien did it when she was a kid, which is why she almost got institutionalized and did get institutionalized a lot, because of the stupid Omen movie.
Okay want to hear something trippy?
I just thought about how a snake eating its own tail is a metaphor for me and Amanda stroking eachother’s egos. My first thought in response to that was, that’s nuts because of the obvious dirty joke. You figure it out.
I type in snake eating it’s own tail and it only shows me pictures of squirrels. I have not looked up squirrels in pexels. I am not kidding you. I think I am crazy.
No seriously though, I did. We can do things faster here than you can, because we get more minutes, per hour, don’t ask me how, and no it is not through doing speed. That would be miserable, and it doesn’t work. I tried, that’s what I was doing when I was losing my mind.
The way to do what we do will be explained later. It is too complicated to explain right now and quite frankly I am lazy.
I did some research on my name which I think my writer gave me for a reason.
Damien means to tame or subdue. Oh, bitter and caustic irony. I love you.
de Soto- de is Spanish meaning of and Soto apparently means small grove.
Rei- this can be either Japanese or Hebrew, Rei is not Japanese so I looked up the Hebrew name and it means my shepherd, my companion, my friend, well clearly. 😉
Clearly-
The Japanese word meaning clearly can mean that or crystal blue, funny, right?
Ever seen Breaking Bad?
Heh.
Blue water is nicer.
Thank you God, not Amanda, but God. Thank you, I am a virtual reality experience that is being showed to Amanda right now, so she can test on herself what it is like to have a spiritual awakening and to carry the message to other addicts, because we are both afraid, no longer.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God.
I feel like I want to start screaming out loud.
I am done being in pain, I can have a life and it doesn’t have to suck, and I get to have friends, and a family, and I am not going to kill them, I love everyone and I don’t even know you, but you matter to me now, and I have God to thank for that, and I am no longer ashamed to say that. This is amazing.
Feel free to join as we try to figure out what to do about Diane.
I am the presenting of missing presents
I am the lack of attention of the one shunning in chaos that is spun by a liar
I am the eyes fueled only by desire to fire. I am an evil empire that desires only to consume the handed tokens of human being. I am the ever seam.
He shoots her in the face with a .45. There is no one around to hear. She is the embodiment of lack of fear. She is beauty. Now I can see so clear. I love her, everything about her is so beautiful. Her hands are the most beautiful color of blue I have ever seen. The deathly pale of loss at the cost of moments of fleeting joy. You my dear are heaven’s toy, you are man’s joy fleeting and grasping.
My name is Joy, and Eden was my wife, we were so in love. In these flowers that I lay tracing their outlines with my eyes, I hope to distract myself just enough to not think of her like I do, every second of every day. Then in that peaceful quiet she may come back, and be a present presenting again. I do not know why she left, all I can say is that she seemed overtaken by a terrible sadness, and I would go to her and ask and she would say nothing. I would say Eden, I am right here hearing you, listening, tell me what brings you such trouble. I wished only to see happiness on her face again.
She would laugh and say nothing, and then talk about previous freedom she experienced before me, and how she loved answering to no one. She would say sometime she wished for that again. I would tell her, Eden, you are in fact free as a bird, to fly away. I told her this, an assurance that she could leave, but with the hope she’d come back.
I am consumed by the lack of her. I do not think she has intention of coming back, and I don’t know why. I loved her so.
but I must have been mistaken.
I dream of you
Now, of running like we did
Dogs of different packs
Choosing to be a pack of two
I ran with you, my friend, thinking you were this
The Otis to my Milo, but closer being the same
Species.
We spoke easy, until we didn’t
So you must not be my Otis.
Just an
Oh, this! Thrown by a joy loving universe
A time space of happy
On the run back to the one who has the rest of the rope tying
My soul so tightly to the strings of the quilted universe.
I will not pull.
I will just wait.
I thank you, my lost friend.
For a time, we were Milo and Otis.
I am running
And looking up at the sky, and I see you
Dancing
Blue stars,
Small at first, glinting in blue
Bouncing light, dancing of the stars in tiny shimmers
At first.
Dancing
At me
Glimmering, sparkling, shinning, flickering,
Dancing in light with my eye.
You exist to show
That the world is a show, a
Reflection of light,
A playing
Played for the eye that spies
On the reflected light of wonder
That is the world
A spellbinding spell cast by reflection
Reflected in joy in warmth
In dancing jelly fish in the sky
Shouting in warmth
In thought and in love in voices so loud
They are heard in thought, in mind, in eyes, in kindness.
I hear you, I think
I love.
I think in joy.
I exist in joy and love.
I think in kindness and love.
I exist out of joy and kindness.
I am will.
I like you am will.
I am the will to be.
Cover of dark nest. I cover myself with leaves, to prevent the sight of my site
From those with lungs who breathe.
I exist despite efforts to cut my existing stance at the knees.
I am alive and despise all efforts to make sure I no longer breathe.
I am everything coveted by those who want me on bent knee.
I am the taker of things that are heaved.
I am one who perceives.
I am one who deceives.
I am one who despite all efforts
Still breathes.
Homeless thief.
In leaf
In lack of belief
I am sheathed
Beneath. Beneath.
Clear as a bell,
And she doesn’t tell
Not her even her friend
Who she will send away
Clara Bell,
Do not tell a soul
Not of the hole in you or in time
Head my voice, listen in rhyme, just in time,
You will see the divine, if you are so inclined
This time be true, because I do love you
Sincerely, yours Clara,
Or as you know me,
Your safety, your tree,
Clara Isabelle Lee
I am lone
I am glee at pain
Felt in vein
Because I hunger
For stains on
Created by rain
Of the blood of the slain of those in love
Because I have no doves
I wear gloves and I shove
Those who explain
That I need to connect
Instead I dissect and refrain
You are disgusting
And the ones lusting
I am pure in heart
Though my life is down drains
I entertain fellows
And eat marshmallows that drop in the rain
That is borne from my tears because I speak only of fears and of pain.
Misery Loves Their Own Company 