You make me nervous

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.

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You are silent when I listen, you caw when I do not, I am listening to you my friend, outside my window where you are, though I cannot see you.

Talking to you is better than talking to them, them is a word re-arranged. Them is a word re-arranged.

Shut up.

Did you stain the rug?

I did not stain the rug, I did not I swear, I put it down, before the paint was dropped.

I am very careful don’t you see? How could you place the blame on me? I did not stain the rug, and it can be seen in this picture of a rug, that is a different rug, but looks like the rug I did not stain.

Someone with a name I will not mention stained the rug, and it was not me.

Along time ago in a place far away, I cleaned motel rooms and

Let Om.

Om. Sounds like meditation..

I should have cleaned the rooms in a calm manner.

Yeah, maybe then you wouldn’t have lost your job.

I lost my job because I came to work high ever day.

Did that cause you to behave calmly?

Does anyone behave calmly on drugs?

My point exactly.

Do you?

I am you.

I know them is a word re-arranged, and it is word, that made me realize that it is no longer a good idea for stay up for two weeks at time.

What about them?

Who a word re-arranged?

No, them.

The people? Which people? Everyone?

Yes, everyone.

I am sorry to the every ones.

There are not multiple every ones.

I thought it sounded cool.

You sound like a tool.

I am a tool.

Actually, yes.

**** you.

I mean you are being used, like everyone is being used at times, by the hands of the universe to help other people.

Wow, arrogance.

I know, but everyone is used this way.

They are?

Yes.

Tool is loot backwards.

You are such a jerk.

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.

I am a tragic dancer, I am a reality distancer, I am a fictioneer, I am addicted to human fear.

I am drinker of beer, I am commiter of jeer.

I am leary, I am query, I am dark, I am stark, I am hate, I am relate.

How do you dance in the dark night?

Do you delight in the

PAIN

Of the fallen?

Or do you pull them up?

I don’t know I don’t know

Say isn’t so?

Where do you go when it is dark?

To.. the answer is changing **** it.

I know, for me too.

For me too.

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

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

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

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

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

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2023/03/15/three-things-challenge-m268/

My life does not have the luxury of being private, it has been dominated by screaming into dark night, a chaos flight on the wings of a dragon, pivoting around the eye of chaos by a pilot that flies dragons, in a plane of thought not a plane. In other words you are reading the adventure of a person who ventures through worlds of thought not worlds in this reality, although these worlds do combine. They are more combined now then ever. I have ventured through Hell or Misery and back, slaying dragons, or I mean riding or chasing them. I do not chase them anymore, my vain in vein efforts have left me too charred by the embers of injected Misery.

I was the pilot of a dragon, or of a body that was full of the blood of a dragon for most of my life, pivoting around the drain, a tragic dance that I did for 15 years of my life and lived to tell about it, because something saved me, and I owe my life to that something, whatever it is. It allowed me to live, because I think it wants me to tell this story, and share what I learned, being poised to find poison and poison one’s own blood, is something I will no longer do, I have seen too much death, and want only life now. I am done pivoting around the drain. I am now in the process of rebuilding my life so it can be more private, instead of being dominated by the psycho screaming of a chaotic night crier.

I just look. I am constantly watching, and have been granted the ability to continue to be. I talk to the powers that be all the time. They speak back because I talk to them, nothing more nothing less. I am very prone to screaming at the sky, joking with sky and smiling at the sky. I also talk to the air, to the birds, to animals, to the stars, and to every human who talks to me. I fear no one because I feel that my point is to be until I am not. I have always felt this way.

I falter in that I am an addict. I assert my will when trying to acquire things that make me forget that I see things that no one notices, because they aren’t watching. I almost died a lot in my life, I am very prone to foxhole prayers, making deals with the spirit in the sky and then breaking them. I think that has been my problem. I am hoping that through me writing this, people get to see what I saw, see it is real, and understand the screaming night criers out there, our reality is just as real we are just awake at hours people aren’t and we listen to a force no one else bothered to ask what to do, or we are consumed by another one which overpowers you and drives to act in pure will assertion, I have called this Misery thus far. It is the desire to force will to get what you want at all cost, it is pure will assertion that dominates a person and forces everything to bend to it.

Misery is derived from the word miser. That is what I have been, that is what I fight to change.

When thinking about this the word avarice is pounding in my mind, don’t know why but, I looked it up on this etymology site and this is what came up.

Miser

“from Latin avaritia “greed, inordinate desire,” (https://www.etymonline.com/word/avarice#:~:text=1300%2C%20%22inordinate%20desire%20of%20gaining,%2D%20%22to%20be%20eager%2C%22)

Which makes me wonder.

Desire

“to wish or long for, express a wish to obtain”

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=desire

Yearning

“to strive, be eager, desire, seek for, beg, demand,”

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=yearning

This all seems to suggest to me that will assertion is what is to be avoided and that if we flow with ebb and pull of the universe it will be revealed what we should do.

You, ripped my heart out, all the details of who you were, and my lies about who I was, are irrelevant to the fact that you destroyed me, very much on purpose, pretending to be something that you were not. I believed you, and let you try and change me. I was foolish, I know, but you were cruel, and that is worse than anything. You had me, telling me you would help me, that talking to you and learning from you would make me better, that all your criticism was going somewhere, so gradually… I took it… allowed you to beat me down.. believing that you weren’t going to just beat me down…

You told me I needed you, that I was lacking ways that demanded your presence in my life, that you were a tool of the universe..

And you were, a knife.

I don’t know why you did it, because what it looks like is probably what it is…

I was your source of drugs.

That kills me.

That was all I was.

I never wanted that.

I never wanted the drugs more than you.

I would have given them up for you.

I was only a dealer, only a tool of manipulation, only a criminal, facilitating your downfall, and then you told me that, after making me that… I wanted to be so much more to you, but okay, if it helps you. I am the bad person.

I can just walk away, so please stop calling me, please stop asking about me. I was just your dealer, and I don’t do drugs or drink anymore, please lose my number, Justin/Rei.

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.

How would you rate your confidence level?

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.

What activities do you lose yourself in?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am not sure sometimes, if I am being guided by the hands of the universe not individually as some lunatic with some mission of importance, but simply some wind-watcher, air listener, tragic tour guide of no one, standing outside in the middle of the night debating shadows that cast on the walls of the houses of the towns I walk through, or right now live in.

I am awoken, by the fighting of very literal cats outside my window, and my mother’s dog is yelled for by my stepfather, he can’t find her, she woke up and he took her to the bathroom and she took off and I can hear outside my window, so I wake up, even though he is focused on something else, I tell him, what is happening and it helped him understand her, and helped him find her.

I wonder how many times before, was I too high or drunk to even hear the cats fighting, and what this all means.

Is there some value to my lunacy, that helps the universe in any way?

I hear things, I hear phrases, they come to me, constantly. I get stuck on them, a decoder of messages coming into my mind, that could mean something or nothing, who knows, but I decode them on here because it helps me personally deal with them, and not shout them on street corners, or talk to myself while pacing around in decaying madness. I noticed with this one, that I put in the title, reckless abandon, that if it spelled like the above, wreck less abandon, that it means something different.

Wreck

 the broken remains of something wrecked or otherwise ruined. (dictionary.com)

Reck

pay heed to something.

Less

a smaller amount or quantity of something.

before subtracting (something); minus.

(Archaic) of lower rank or importance.

to a smaller extent; not so much.

To me this means

The broken remains of something of lower rank or importance

a·ban·don

cease to support or look after (someone); desert.

give up completely (a course of action, a practice, or a way of thinking).

complete lack of inhibition or restraint.

This to me speaks on two levels which makes me employ both

cease to support or look after (someone); desert.

The broken remains of something of lower rank or importance

Wreck less Abandon

Read this way

Someone of perceived lesser importance, removes prior restraints causing lesser importance, and turns to mission of more importance, which is removing inhibitions or restraints, or the chains of addiction and helps the abandoned or lost of society.

Just a thought, through language dissection of schizophrenic thoughts.

The universe paints in color, mostly, but there are beings in black and white, shadow people who do not get the colors of reflected light

Colored beings dance throughout the world, reflecting light on shadow men, who do not participate just observe and defend something that I do not know yet, I am not sure, think I forget… and I have been wondering lately what I forgot, sitting and thinking about what remains to be sought.

I am thinking so, and sitting alone, as I do because I know that I am a shadow of the people I can see, I see them, they can’t see me. I am a shadow of their reflections of light. I am not real, just a lack of light.

I hear a sound from behind and turn around, it is not a light beaming but the sound of down.

I am taken back, but I am not scared, some how it feels like I always knew this was there, speaking to me in shades I get, anger, pain and deep regret

I look to it, and it sees me, makes eye contact and warns me, do not be like me, please.

What do you mean? I say, and then it simply walks away.

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.

Damien

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.

Later

Damien

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.

Damien

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.

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. 😉

Stupid joke

I liked it.

Obviously

Moving on..

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…

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_miser

thats the wiki source.

Food for thought.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/02/23/reenas-xploration-challenge-269/

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.