Tag: liar
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Minty What is your career plan?
I am without a dream, my dream died long ago, I mean. I had a dream or dreams once, I mean. My goal or career plan was to write anything and use money I made to pay for my life… didn’t work out to well, well the economy in America crashed, so I drank and did drugs about it.
You really think anything would have been different had you been born at a different time?
Yes, I would have been able to experience adult life before hitting rock bottom.
Okay, that makes sense, and seems true.
I am trying now to start a re-sale business, and find some way, anyway, many ways to write for petty cash.
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But, backing away, I am caught looking back at you.
I am taken back and drop my things and instantly start to start re-gathering them, while falling apart.
I am fine, I tell you, but you know I am not, you stand looking at me, while my face turns red hot.
What is your problem?
I don’t really know, and if I did, I can’t let it show, that I know the answer because I don’t want to tell you.
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She is not like you, so she is going down, I love you sweetheart and your friend would rather lay down. She stole your money, and I’ll give it back, little do you know, this is all an act. We tricked you, baby, but you don’t know. I wanted your attention and your friend did know. Now you are sitting thinking she left you here, she is buying something of which you won’t here. I covered for her, because without her, I would never have met you, and after today won’t see you again, and this I bet you, so right now, I will tell you anything you want to hear, and yes have anything you want, I have it here.
I don’t know when she will be back, she did not tell me, and yes she will be back of this I assure, I implore you please relax, your insanity and anxiety is such a tax, I love your voice honey, and love your face, I have something that I am sure will make your pain slow pace.
Okay, she is back no go away, and if you are ever in need you know where I stay.
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I love you so much
I painted with dark
I love you so much, you are the color of my heart.
Darkness, darkness, my lovely life, you are so
wonderful, so ascending, never impending, always transcending, always exploding with joy, joyous, joyous, open mouth, screaming with openness, light casting shadow on all the dark
I am darkness. I am shadow.
I am swallowed. I am gone. I am theft of night’s life. I am silent song. I am death of chaos, I am end of night long.
Death of quiet, begins a song.
Color me with madness
Color me dark
Color me with darkness
Color my heart
I am madness screaming please end joy, joy is chains to human who employs, my misery.
I am melting paint by number
I am melting paint by number and I have got yours
I am paint by number recolored because I don’t listen to instructions
She was so beautiful, she was so nice,
Surely, surely,
You must know
That all I ever wanted was to go
I ran cross country
Alone at a last
You will never find me
kiss my ***
she was so pleasant, she was a plot device, she was a tool, she was a wrench, she was wench,
I am awkward pause.
she was a whore, now forever she rests. I put her to bed, now it is said, her name was something else that I have not yet said, and surely I won’t because he reads this now, and I don’t care about him and he needs to figure that out.
Don’t be afraid of me, I don’t give that much of a **** about you, you are spineless woman beater. I am no longer the person you hit, now I am the person who doesn’t give a ****.
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I am the screaming nightcrier, the burner of funeral pyre to desire for
DEATH
MY OWN
MY PRECIOUS
MY DISCARDED
RINGS true doesn’t it?
Answer me Clearly…. clarity, clarity where for art thou clarity?
DOWN THE DRAIN, because over night you went insane,
JUST TEMPORARILY
IS that so?
I ****ing hope so, I am going to go somewhere soon, so if I write this, you will go away maybe, and I will not have to hear you talking to me in front of other people.
DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT??
Enough to do it.
You are disgusting.
GOTCHA, you are talking to yourself.
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I am sitting on a street corner, watching everyone walk by, making eye contact with people with nice clothes on, for just a second and then looking away, this being a better technique than most people’s “Can you spare any change?”……….
YOU SOUND LIKE AN ***HOLE..
Yeah..
They don’t understand we are just addicts who do not want to screw anyone over, we have to because we are slaves to our addictions, most of us feel bad about it. It perpetuates the addictions of most of us… We use and drink to be able to sleep and think because we are addicts and then we end up, or some of us do anyway, out of the street, having to panhandle, steal, lie, and some of us gain some sort of semblance of pride that comes from being good at it. I am good with words, I liked doing what I did not because I liked being a liar but because I like playing with words.
There are hundreds like me, thousands, who failed and get some sort of semblance of control from panhandling vocally, or writing clever signs, or sitting outside with a sign for 12 hours and making 200 dollars a day.
I am, by the way, an ***hole, but I am trying to change now.
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https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/57168971/posts/95094
What did the quick brown fox leap over?
A hole. He did not go in the hole. He did not sit in the hole talking to himself. He simply leaped over the hole, not even realizing it was there.
What were the Window Cleaner’s confessions?
I never clean any of the windows, I just wait for the rain.
What was The Mad Hatter’s true occupation?
My dealer.
Why did Cinderella lose her glass slipper?
I stole it.
Why do people in old TV shows and movies spend so much time sitting on their front porch?
They are waiting for Godo.
What happened to the three little pigs?
They went to the bay.
What is Air Force One?
After Air Force 1/2 and before Air Force 2.
Who brings the Easter Eggs?
The Great Pumpkin
Who was Harvey?
A man who hung out in calm fields while lying about them being dangerous because he wanted to camp alone.
What is quick silver?
Faster than slow silver.
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What makes you most anxious?
I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..
Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant
To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…
I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…
and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..
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Okay, I am going to try to not to do the stupid thing now.
Go.
I wonder if anyone could ever love me sometimes, I hate myself so much, I try not to, but I do. Everyone seems so normal. They have their normal thoughts and say the right things, and I think about ruining my life and jumping into cars. Into and in front of…..
How is that helpful to anyone? How is that okay enough with anyone to accept.
You have to accept you first.
Why? I suck.
I hate myself, I just think of bad things all the time, and have to pretend I don’t.
No you don’t and no you don’t.
You know what. No, I don’t. My mother just said the President is on, and did not go into specifics about her views, which are moderate, she spoke of a human being with respect, I love her. Thank you, mom. I am sorry I pretended you didn’t exist. I love you.
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I have parents, who love me, who I abandoned to go across the country doing drugs with my ex who then tried to do things to me that are unspeakable, and are being told in allegory because, **** he tried to do things that are so **** that I dare not reveal that much about him. I have never hurt anyone just myself and speak of murder and crime as a literally and therapy tool used in allegorical repressed rage, because I hate the situation on the streets of this country and wish I had done something instead of being out there getting high with people who died, or hurt people. I have never killed anyone, hurt anyone, other than myself. I just have repressed rage at me so I made myself out to be a recovering monster, because I am, but not a violent one, not to any one else, just my own soul.
This is the reason for my anonymity.
I do not want to cause danger anymore to my family who are not Damien’s but a very normal one, who did not deserve a drug addict/alcoholic who should just have admitted they were non-binary Damien/Amanda/gender queer/schizophrenic drug addict/alcoholic the whole time, then maybe I could have a last name on this site.
Damien/Amanda.
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I have maintained the anonymity of my real identity not just because I am a liar. I am a liar, but I also thoroughly ruined my life to the point where the anonymity is necessary because there are certain people who are very angry with me who I do not want to have contact with while I am trying to recover from addiction and try to make some sort of effort to be a decent human being. I have faced the very real ramifications of a life spent back and forth on the streets and in houses funded by unsavory methods. I desire the anonymity because there are certain friends I have that are very unsavory characters, who want to kick my *** for lack of a better word. I faced all the situations in this story minus actually having to hurt anyone. I wrote about that as a way to get justice in a fictional way, and get out repressed rage when what really happened was I had to turn the other cheek and feel like a coward because I walked away instead of standing up for myself.
Damien
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The quiet ramifications of a life of pushing everyone away, or I am surrounded by silence because I pushed everyone away.
I hate it because it reminds me of what a failure I am, I have lived most of my life, lying to myself. I am unhappy because I am alone, and have spent my life drug/alcohol seeking. I do not have any friends, my friends I had are all dead or don’t talk to me anymore, so I sit alone all day and write on here and I hate it and love it at the same time. I love that I am no longer surrounded by the negativity I was surrounding me before, which I don’t want, but it also reminds me what I have missed because of my choices. I chose to dedicate my entire life to drugs and alcohol a magnum opus of failure. I am alone all the time forced to reflect on all the bad choices I have made.
I lived as a homeless person, squatter, bum, panhandler, conartist and petty criminal for the last 17 years. I was on a constant mission to fuel only my addiction while obtaining a master’s degree in public policy which I have used as a way to skirt the law. I have not committed any serious crimes. I have panhandled, lied, cheated, gambled, and conned my way through life. That is the truth, the full truth and no lies.
Damien.
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What is the last thing you learned?
I owe you the sun, the moon, and the stars for being someone who attacked you when you were just trying to help me.
Damien de Soto, last night ***What does that even mean? Last before what? Last thing before sleep? The last thing before bed yesterday? Last thing I allowed myself to be taught? The last thing I learned in general?
Is this up to interpretation? Is that why it is phrase this way?
What the heck? I don’t get it.
You really think you are better than everyone else don’t you?
Who said that?
You. Just now.
No, I didn’t. And no I don’t.
Yes, you did, it is up there said, by me. That is how…
That is not how that comes across, I was asking for clarity.
You were pointing out a flaw with the question to avoid answering because you are used to being held somewhere under a light and asked questions about drunk or high behavior by police.
This is not a cop asking me this.
Then what is the last thing you learned?
Before bed? I’ll take it that way, which is the only way I can take it.
Yeah?
I learned I am lucky and grateful that I have been gifted the ability and chance to do anything at all because I have lived a life of selfishness and deserve none of this, only being granted it by the grace of God or my higher power.
Thank you, good answer.
That was easy, and rewarding.
Yeah, I know.
Nice mental pat on the back.
I know that too.
Jerk.
Noted.
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Did you sleep well? I barely slept at all…. I kept waking up as you can see…. because I have to do something today, and **** me. I am not important enough to feel okay anyway, and probably wouldn’t even if I slept… but how would I know because I don’t anyway???
Reason meant for reason a ment or Amanda’s meant resentment of self. Bam. Throughout punch of throat of myself, just pissed I am always tired, so I am word boxing myself, so I wake up, which is why I am always tired, and insane….
Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton I like that movie…
I have seen it 302808 times.
It is one of the reasons I am tired right now.
Not true…. I am insane…. because.. I am insane… and I will never be not insane… because my broken brain doesn’t ****ing work write right write……..
Okay, done.
Damian
Damien
Damn ie
Dama ie
this is just stupid now.
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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
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She told her mom, and told her I told her to keep it a secret, so now I am sleeping on the couch, which is where I fall asleep anyway by accident, but now I have to which makes me want to not sleep on the stupid couch….
Well it’s really a recycled dog bed not even a couch, its better than the floor okay.
I like the dog metaphor enough to not care.
She says she didn’t appreciate my lack of honesty and that I should have told her, which is true but sometimes I want to do things the way I want to and not have to explain myself.
That sounded like I am a complete jerk, she’s right, I suck… oh well… too late… she’ll forget eventually.
Damien
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I want to take a prescription for hypocondria, meaning a cure for it so I looked it up thinking foolishly that there might be a prescription drug for it because I am a drug addict who is lazy and wants easy solutions. Instead of coming across a drug for it I came across the definition which was a kick in the face.
def.-abnormal anxiety about one’s health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease, (dictionary.com).
How can there be a prescription for something if not even a disease?
There can’t be unless you count, go to a meeting at 12.
Addiction is a series disease. The definition makes no sense then.
You think your leg is going to fall off because you used drugs and got staff. That is what you wanted the prescription for. If you think your leg is going to really fall off go to the hospital.
My insurance is not in effect yet.
So you want a sedative to make it so you don’t have to worry until someone can tell you your leg is fine? Our leg is fine.
It’s my leg right now.
Control freak.
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She is an extremely strange human being. I am beginning to wonder what is the truth about her child. I have not met the girl, and probably never will, I hope. I do not personally care to meet her. I am writing this to you, because something about the whole thing is bothering me. I do not know what.
There is a darkness to Diane that is disconcerting. I do not what it is, but it keeps me up at night and I am thinking it has something to do with this child of hers. The girl is 21 now, I think…. from what I can remember, which is convenient.
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You must remember this, Damien.
I didn’t write that, but I am leaving it there for you, so you can read it, and I sound less like the weak raving lunatic that I have come to know myself to have become. I was not always like this, or this bad. I think. I don’t really remember. I do not think I am a dead man. I think I am a dying man, but I have nothing wrong with me. I am not dying in the way every human being is dying. Like I said, there is nothing wrong with me, medically. The hospitals I have frequented for their free food know about the mental illnesses they tell me I have.. I don’t believe they are illnesses. I know that is cliche, but I don’t believe it, in that I won’t take medication for something that is who I am, not an illness.
This is me, and there is at least one person who likes me, the only person who likes me, but I don’t think that is fair because she is also the only person who knows me. I didn’t let anyone else do that.
I am a dead man, remember?
It says it is even in her name. Rei. I am not sure what that means. I think it thinks Ms. Rei spells misery, without the y because why? Because I am an asshole, and I don’t get to ask an illness questions. Okay, I feel better now, so see ya.
Damien
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I was killed where I stand. I stand still. I took the wrong pill. I made the wrong deal, should have instead bought a meal. I dealt with a steal-er. He made me a meal here. I stood on the ground, hearing not a sound, but a pound, that came in my ear, shattering conscience, conciousness…spelled it wrong… bitch…
Foolish hands that write of man, who stands as me, I am herder of swine don’t you see. I am a liar and host of deception-ist sort. I am a maker of words, singer of cries…. I am the dying of dies.
I lost my train of thought, who was I before. I was someone. I was someone.
My name is Miranda. I was a writer and then Ms. Rei.
Misery, don’t you see….
Cut off my hands.
You were using them wrong, you were writing death’s song.
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I am the ever-presenting questioning mind of God. I am the one who makes rod. I am sod. I am a liar, I am none of these things, I am one of the fallen, and have no wings. I am a bringer of pain and death. I am riddle, I am your quest. I am request for lack of pain stolen with lies. I am despise. I am darkness. I am pain. I am disdain.
In a world so sore, with remorse, I am the source. I am the darkness, I am your kin. I am sin. I bring you in. I am your maker, I am liar, I am fire. I am deception, I am deceit. I am replete. I am judgement. I am hate. I can relate with no man, because I steal from plates. I aim to please, I cut at knees. I am disease.
I aim to chop off all that you love, I fly on wings stolen from doves. I act like I come from above, but I come from Hell, I aim to tell you that you are weak, but it is me of whom I speak. I am fear. I am loss. I am to be shunned at all cost.
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Sometimes,
I miss a man
Sometimes,
He missed me,
Dollar and cents
Shot in vain
In vein
With lack of sense.
Sometimes, I miss a man,
But now he can’t miss on me.
Misery Loves Their Own Company 