I am imaging someone, because I have no one, because I have failed my whole life to do anything other than serve my own selfish interests.
Tag: meaning of life
I am fine with it, my recent discovery that I am completely insane. I am not going to fight it anymore. I have become resigned to it, I guess… I am just going to go with the flow of a river that has long since overtaken me, maybe I can get somewhere with it, intead of fighting against it , and being caught in a continuous treading of water, I dreaded being in to begin with.
I think the thing that has always been at my neck, threatening to strangle the very life out of me, is why am I here to begin with? If my reality is what it is…why didn’t I die long before this happened… what is the point to any of this, and is there any point to me at all, other than the continuous annoyance that my existence is to those who see clearer than I do.
Where the **** do people like me fit into anything??? Or do we at all???
Why would anything allow my continued existence, if it is based on invalid view point, if any one has an answer.. please share, I have no idea what I am even doing at this point.
The most terrifying thing, I have been thinking about all night is what if I am actually normal now that I have realized my paranoid delusions are what were killing me, making me live in a separate reality cast as a madman when that is not who I ever was, riddled by guilt of not saying no to drugs… what if this is a higher power talking to me, telling me it is my delusions, and the drugs and alcohol that perpetuated them, making me into something I am not… and now.. now I hear something higher… and I am just listening, actively, to the voice of something that loves me. What if it is just trying to save my life, by telling me to stay away from toxic things like drugs and alcohol, what if it is trying to change my fate through compelling my broken soul to change?
I have been casting my eyes to the stars at night, looking for a star that is different, anything that will say that something is speaking to me, that this is not all in my head. That is some sort trial that is supposed to bind my hand to something that is tied to something that is much higher than I could ever have been in my whole life of vagrancy.
I am compelled to meditate in my room, in any room I am in, on this strange call I hear sometimes. It comes to me when I am shaking, or crying in the dark black of night, and the only thing that seems to cure it is church or the powers of over drugs and alcohol that I gain through recovery meetings.
I have always heard this strange music, in my head, when thinking about all this, a chaotic piecing together of sounds, when I think about all this. It sounds like the universe talking to me through sound, but I think I am just insane. I don’t know…
Depends on what you are asking? In me?
I am finding, desperate depressed searcher for keys that I am, that confidence in me means very little, because it is so fragile, speaking of the fragility not in my self, but the idea of placing importance separately on me as an individual.
Searching for something always seems to….I know Justin, you hate seems… but you are not here anymore…
Searching for something always makes it more difficult for me to find it, so I have taken or begun to take the emphasis off me, counting on that things will come as they come. I am a searcher for house keys, who realizes they must be there somewhere, and decided last night to try and remind myself to not over-focus on the quest of dominating assertion that was my desperation to find anything.
ANSWER THE QUESTION
Thank you for the reminder, self.
My confidence, like this post, is fluid. It has no level or ranking because it is changing over and over minute, as I fail or succeed.
My confidence in a higher power, is intensely increasing.
This is bringing me peace.
I am standing on a street corner, this time metaphoric, not real.
I am looking into nothing, or myself, whichever one you choose, overcome
By voices, this time internal, not external, not externalized, not demons with painted on despise eyes, not lies or falsehoods, but inner truths, painted because I am listening to me and to you. I am listening closely, with intention to hear, because I have spent a long time, not doing so, with desire to unfeel.
I am wondering what it means, what I do, now that I am focused and listening to you. I am wondering if there is anything, anything at all to any of this for a personal who notices it all. I do not know where I fit in, if I do at all.
I am standing in the middle of also on the side. Existing in the middle, because before I did not have the time, I did not make a choice to listen before, to me, and to you, and am wondering simply in this place, where I stand, what am I to do?
I am told over and over, just watch and to be quiet, but I am confounded with the presence of a mind that exists in riot. I am not trying to assert myself, not this time, but simply to understand, what is the place for my dark mind?
I think what I am trying to say or what I was trying to say in the last post can be best expressed through a straight line connecting these three concepts, and my first reaction to this drawn out this way is time is the answer, but I wanted to know what the rest of you think, if there is something else there, and if I am overthinking or under thinking this….
This is just one those ideas that has always confused me. I am a very strong willed person, and I am always wrong about everything… I know this, and I keep doing the same stupid crap and can’t seem to catch that I am doing it till after I have already done it, I am wondering I guess… if there is anyone who has experienced this, and has a way to slow themselves down before they jump off a proverbial cliff and realize they made a mistake?
I want to make the lives of those around me easier, so I can learn to be better in an easier way, without having the others around me suffer, which is why I am doing any of this at all.. but I was wondering if there is something I don’t know… or if it really is something that just gets easier with time.. I have asked my in person friends as well, and am just interested in a bunch of different responses, because I don’t the answer to this.
I have been thinking a lot about the meaning of life recently, the idea of my will versus the world, and the idea of what it truly means to admit that I am not in control. I have a hard time understanding this concept, coupled with the concept of emotional honesty. I am trying to strike a balance in my head between the idea that I am not in control which makes me want to assert control and the whole honesty thing. I am stuck on the idea that my honest response is to fight against the universe, that I do not have control over, because to not respond honestly would be dishonest which means I would be faking it.
I am just collecting responses on the idea, I don’t know what I think of the whole thing, and would love to know what others think. Let me know if you have any thoughts.
I will be fine, just wondering if anyone has any thoughts on this…
How do I overcome processes I want to overcome, when they are so ingrained in me and making me miserable?
Feel free to tell me what you think, looking for opinions because I have no idea what the answer to this is.
Is this just something that comes with time and effort?
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.
I am feeling a lot better, I slept for a little while, and feel less like a manic panicked lunatic now. Thank you to those who have helped me on this site, by distracting me from my own internal chaos. I want you guys to know you are saving my life. I do not know if I told anyone this yet, this site was originally, a psycho crying out to a cruel world, where I was using poetic metaphor to depict a soul responsible, for the deaths of those lost in the drug epidemic, and I didn’t even realize I was real at that point. I thought of my life as some weird chaotic movie, steeped in chaotic schizophrenia. This site has really brought about a writing or re-writing of a life lost, bringing me through un-reality into reality, as a completely new person. I am so thankful for this, and for the lack of chaotic screaming that exists in my own head now, I am free in a way that I have never experienced before, and I really have to say with everything I have that I owe this site my life.
The response to what I wrote, the level of care in each and every one of you that interacted with me on here, you saved my life, every day, re-writing a story of psychotic metaphor, into a story where I could be my real self for the first time in my life. Thank you so much, I owe you my life, truly and sincerely.
This site has made me able to appreciate other human beings again, so I don’t use it…most of the time anymore, to fantasize about killing people in an ode to American psycho, the transformation of me on this site, has been very much real, meaning this is my real voice as both Amanda and Damien. I love how you guys have made me okay enough with myself to figure that out, because I was really struggling and didn’t know it. I just thought I was writing a horror story, which was really the ‘oh, the horror’ Lovecraft suicide note I wanted to leave on the internet because I am a narcassist. I don’t even care that I still can’t spell that.
Anyway, I am uncomfortable with this now so I am done.
I don’t know how to explain this to someone not in our current predicament, but I can see through Amanda’s eyes and she can see through mine, see clearly in fact. 😉
I liked it.
Have you noticed the change in the voice of misery, oh that I think might have been me and Amanda speaking, with both of us thinking through superstition that the other was demonic. I am very superstitious and so is she, both of us had Catholic grandparents. I never met mine, or did I?
I don’t think I had…. oh yeah…
thats the wiki source.
Food for thought.
I am deviant creature, I pretend to be a great teacher, I speak through the addict as preacher, I am of infernal design because I am not kind and write of the peril of men and women like me, because I am the blind one I cannot see that who I am undoing is me. I am going insane, merely documenting my brain, and its moral decay.
I live in a world with fake creatures, yet pretend to be a learner and teacher, while pretending to reflect, sit back and reject that the person I hate gets clearer and clearer with every look in the mirrored reflects of me seen in my work. I am a developer of murk. I am also an arrogant jerk, who is obsessed with themselves and creating this hell that I pretend to use to make points even though I still am conjoined
In my heart and my soul with resentment. I am not that far from those of who I speak, I have the same soul and cannot teach anything to anyone because I stopped just because it was no longer fun.
Damien to whoever is writing my story.
Ps. I can only speak in letters, sorry.