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.
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.
Characters thus far
Joy
Diane
Damien de Soto
Rei Clearly
POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION
First person
Blog post style
Dark horror fiction
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.
There are two of you which is terrifying, because that makes me think of identical twins, who both hate me.
Or we could do what we did with that one girl we knew. You know the one?
Oh, yeah?
She dated you.
I dated her.
She had our issues too.
Both sides of her, broke up with both sides of us.
I see two doors one red one black, I painted one red, instead of black, to the black door I can’t go back, this I know, because I have a complete
I am to be red
I am very small
I am red instead of black because the narrator is an ***hole.
Lack of ****ing self-control, my soul a burning rotting, wreaking hole, not whole, but hole instead, so sad, too bad, must turn around instead.
The door, the door, behind it lays, things from which I needn’t say, because you could guess what they are, and my heart, my heart,
Is black because I am ***hole, writing about drugs in the morning.
Isn’t it lovely, isn’t it great?
So sorry baby, I can’t relate, I am addicted to madness, to pain and slow death, that is what I have been given.
I call it time theft.
This is my life which I was given, from the time I was born, ticking time clock was ticking. I am to be thankful, I am to be glad, I am to serve everyone, because there lives are sad, I am to shut up, I am to be down.
I am to always smile, only laugh, never frown.
I am to speak kindly.
I am sorry that I cannot do, I hate everything around, sorry, baby even you.
I want different cards, or I want to quit playing. I tried all my life in every way, to quit playing, every attempt came with failure, and people glad I was alive, while I sat like always wanting to off my life.
Label me chaos,
I am a game of chicken played in red and blue, not green, but blue.
I don’t know what to do, except scream, because I don’t want any of this, never did, never will, and no matter how much I try, I am not allowed to quit playing.
Label me doubt, label me contention, because I love to scream and shout. I love the human word, because I in perpetual fight to be not heard, because you know what I really don’t care.
Label death, they already did, at eight, already dead, ticking, ticking, so thankful, so grateful, so sad, too bad, already gone, gone, gone.
I lived my whole entire life, on rock bottom from eight to now, on gravel, and sometimes jagged rock, crawling up. I was born with something, for those who do not know that gave me a life expectancy of 21.
21, 21, 21
Wish sometimes, that I had lost not won.
My life is all silver linings, and people say I should be thankful, greatful, for what, more time than 21 years?
Because I am somehow supposed to be thankful to have less time than most people???
Gravel. I am so fond of you. I know everything about every curvature, every outline, of the pleasant rocks at the bottom of the path that is my life, which I went off, because I am sorry…
I don’t like cutting my feet on rocks very much.
So are you?
Why would I lose my mind if I wasn’t able to go outside, I am inside all day.
My point exactly, and no you are not, you go to that place every day, that you can’t go now, because of cold symptoms.
I will be fine.
Yeah right.
You have very low faith in yourself.
Sick burn.
Nice double entendre.
I loved you once, but now I can’t and I don’t want to, so I don’t
I loved you multiple times, and still do, and I am just trying to be honest with you
Hey, ***hole, you’re talking to a glass.
I know…
I think I have a problem with peace, consumed with moving, digging perpetually beneath, unable to stop and not do, wishing always for something new, I can’t sit still, that is why I think I was obsessed with you.
Dragon eating its own tell, possessing nothing was just as well, I live in inner Hell, because I can’t bring myself out sometimes, uncomfortable with peace, living in internal, eternal, infernal mind bind.
I tied my own hands, behind my back, because I feel being free, and love the feeling of under attack.
Living in perpetual lack of self.
Bottled emotions of alcohol on shelf.
I can’t be myself, because myself was built around you, who am I even without the drugs and booze I used to use???
I got up early with you, my friend, the one who I was always fighting against, I realize now I was fighting me, engaged in constant battle of insanity, fighting light to see in dark, fighting vision on quest of mark, I fight you but in so doing, poision applies to skin, and reason spewing out of my mouth and from my head, wishing for life, but fighting the dead.
Questing for sun, but lurking in dark, I am the eternal question mark.
I forgot what I was talking about. Oh, well.
This is about powerlessness, your favorite thing, and water is cleansing.
OoO Look at you, show off.
OoO Look at you show off.
That is mature.
Says the most mature person in the world.
I enjoyed the Easter thing, did you?
I wasn’t there, you were.
Yeah, you were. You were just uncomfortable.
I can tell you are glad you won, stop rubbing my nose in it.
Stop thinking about putting things up your nose then.
I am pro-choice, I do not want to fight. I am writing for my own recovery, do not take anything I say as anything else but my own beliefs on a blog where I talk to myself, please.
I am a flower
I am pure
I am sweet
I am a flower
I am pure
I am sweet
I am a flower
I am sweet
Isn’t it all about sex for procreation??? So why are you still allowing Viagra???? Is that for procreation???? To be clear I don’t want illegal viagra. I want to illustrate hypocrisy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is to states that made medicated abortion illegal. Texas, what about Viagra???? Is that for procreation???? If sex is all about procreation, why is a drug that allows old men to have sex when they are not procreating, still legal???
Why???? Sexism. That is why. That is all.
I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.
I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.
A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled
Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.
I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.
I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.
I am because I am really also you.
I know, because I am awesome.
I am awesome too.
I know, because we both are.
Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.
I am from the land of trees, I make men beg on their knees, I am request to baby, please, don’t do it!!!!!!!!! I am disease of sick infested mind, I plague man and woman throughout time, I am not of sound, but infection of rejected mind. I am not kind, but develop in those who are bound by
PAIN
Diseased Brain
Disdain in
INSANE MIND
You will never find anything, like me, I am so free, living impossibly in a land that
DOESN’T EXIST.
I am death’s kiss,
I am paranoid schizophrenia.
all sensations leading down to the sensation of life down drain, extension of pain, after dedication of life spent in vein, I mean in vain…….
I had my own death planned out since I was, I don’t know 14. A clever escape from a life of running a race into nothing, a condolence for a life spent on nothing but purchasing pain… in vain, in vein.
I am heroic.
Heroine, heroine, where art there heroine?
I like to drop the e’s sometimes.
X is one hell of a drug.
Trigger. Trigger. Trigger.
This is fun.
TOXIC TOXIC
WORD VOMIT
ACID BILE
Okay, I am done.
https://www.aagrapevine.org/sobriety-calculator
This is really important me now, because I have realized I like all of the people I am talking to on here, and what an *** I was before doing all of this so I am going to periodically post this on here, to keep myself in check, because who knew…. people before me knew things about how to do this…. I am such an…….. ***
I am really starting to enjoy life now, which is awesome. I never thought I would enjoy anything as much as being ****ed up beyond recognition.
Thank you to all of the people who have kept me going.
Damien
JOKE
If something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be a warning. It may be The Omen.
The omen
****
There it is, the one word that describes me, blanked out, so I have no idea what it is, and you can guess the mystery behind its four lettered character.
The answer doesn’t matter. Even though the answer is the entire point of answering this question, or is it? Or is the point…. the characterization of a member of society who was before unclear?
Omen.
It’s all for me…
ahahahhahhahhhahahhahhhahhahahhahhhhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhah
Trigger warning: This is about drug seeking and effects on my ability to be confident in friendships I have, due to emotional immaturity. Drugs mentioned. Do not read if sensitive to this kind of thing.
For no particular reason, I am very sad right now, so I think about the particles in the universe, I think about pieces of sand, so tiny, and so together, part of a body of sand, and I long to be a particle of sand, that is part of something else, and never alone, but I am always alone now, and I am so sad.
I say no particular reason, but that is a lie, I know exactly the reason why I am alone, I chose this every time I used the phone to call someone to pack away all the feelings I have, everything I want to say with acquisition instead of inquisitive mission to know anyone but those who are on a mission, now I am in a peculiar position. I don’t know how to make friends, and I know I already have them, but I don’t know how to have them, I don’t know what to do next, so I am stuck in the land of anxious guess, addicted to pain, and in a land of washing rain, why can’t it wash away the stains on my damaged brain. I feel like I will always be insane.
In vein. In vain. In vein. In pain. Disdain. No more pain. Please send me soul cleansing rain.
I know you don’t know me, but I am lonely, and I want to know you, whoever you are, whoever is lonely too.
I am very sad, and want someone just like you. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why, but you are like me, and we cry with similar cut eyes.
I hope you are okay, I am not. My head is hurting, my hands are hot.
My heart is broken, I am alone, and I hope you hang on, person who is also by unanswered phone. Please don’t be sad, I am sad too.
I don’r want for you anything I feel too.
Can we just pretend for today? Just pretend that we already know each other so you will be okay?
I am lonely too please don’t give up.
I want to meet you. Don’t die before we meet up.
I am running not from something, but through the earth. I have the ability to move quicker, in my mind anyway than I had before when I was getting high, I realize now how much it was making me slower, I was just slowing down the processes of my mind, which is stupid because this feels amazing. I do not have to worry about anything, because I am no longer doing anything wrong, I can just walk through life unperturbed by anything, seeing everything in clarity instead of the dull blur of drug and alcohol induced psychosis. I notice everything, and am able to act naturally without agonizing over anything anymore, now don’t get me wrong, I remember who I am and that this feeling will pass, but I know I will not forget this feeling. I will not be tempted to go back. I am done now, I have realized that I have something in me that is more valuable than any temporary high, I can choose to be whatever I want now.
I am free, released from the chains of addiction, no longer shackled to a life bound to a misery demon. I have had my mind cleansed, and I owe that to the earth, the sky, the stars, everything around me and above me, that was screaming at me to come back and do the sensible thing, be the human being I was meant to be, not the chaotic screaming infant dying in perpetual spinning spun hissy fit of life coming undone. I am so happy.
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?
The sound of automation is mesmerizing, the clicking, the shuffling, the beeping the whirring, shoving and blended talking of all those on the train, who do not know me, and don’t know anything about my past. They have no judgement of me, preconceived or otherwise, busy with their own business. I fade into the background, and watch a world I left behind for a dance with a siren who wanted to rip my soul from my eyes.
My eyes are free now, and look around, not dominated by watching her, they are free to be their own, not called to the service of a master, they watch as the passengers go about their quiet business, and I am inspired by their composure, ability to be so normal, the train is a zen garden of little people, not screaming in overinflated hot blow up doll chaos, they keep to themselves, and I keep to mine, in my mind. I am thinking about leaving this place, misery, and doing something else, thinking and sure that this time, I mean it, because she should not own my words anymore.
I am going to board a new train of thought, and then hopefully get myself together enough to go on a train and do something else.
https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1884
The amount of glass on the ground around me on a daily basis astound me, items on the floor smashed to smithereens, left there because I don’t take my shoes off, and I don’t care about walking on glass without them anyway.
I smash things to pieces, and I wish I could spend more time everyday picking up the pieces than lamenting an existence of fracture, but I cannot bring myself to picking them up without squeezing my hands around them, I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore. I need professional help.
I wish I could make more phone calls to do this, but I threw my phone in the river, in a paranoid psycho delusion that people were listening to my phone calls, even though my phone calls were just to her, and her yelling at me.
I think this is the last I will say about this. I am going to do the things I said above, get professional help and try to move on, sorry for ranting on here..
https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1841
“From Me”
I can’t even see, I am so exhausted from making myself cry, clawing and scratching, and scrapping, and ripping and tearing at my own eyes, fighting to make it impossible to use them, so I can never see this again, myself through someone else, who ripped me so far away from myself, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
I am a cat who cannot see the cat in the mirror is them. I jump at the mirror, slamming with full impact into the glass, a marriage of breaking, a marriage of crashing, a marriage of skin meet sharp object, so very much like my tragic love affair with things heroic, but not, because they hide in human skin, and only bring death and pain and loss and women who used me like a severing knife, and then turned the knife on me.
I have become her outer monologue manifest in my mind, manifesting in man of festering infected soul. I am so stupid, I am doing this to myself, and I can’t bring myself to stop doing it because that means I am alone, and I don’t know if it is worse to talk to demonic ghosts or be alone.
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.
How would you rate your confidence level?
10. I am very very fast. I can run faster than anyone I know, most notably faster than this guy whose girlfriend paid me back my… rent money. I loaned it to him.. because I am a nice person? It was 400 dollars I got for standing in traffic at a light, and I am not the kind of person who looks good doing that… so sometimes they pay me to move, it takes a couple hours to make 400 dollars, like 8.
I stood there for 8 hours and had enough to pay the rent for the month or um… make tragic mistakes, you know dice roll. I decided to play double or nothing with my friend who is my business associate at well, well after this, his girl was my business associate and he was my **** for about 2 months. He wanted the power back from his girl.
I have a very um… aggressive approach to business, so people give me what I want.
Being impervious to death helps too… which is why I am turning my life around because I am realizing how I write this what an *** I was, because I think that something saved me all these times, and I proceeded to give it the finger, so it chopped my fingers off? Or the tips of three of them? I don’t think He or them or it really did that… I think it was MRSA and me being a ****.
Moral of the story, I am an arrogant **** , but I am trying to tone that down so… 5 on confidence..
“If it’s not yours then why is it in your wallet?”, he says to me, and I know she got me, she is in the bathroom dying from doing both our shots, even though I told her she couldn’t handle it… she got mad, thinking I was being selfish.. she spent all our cash meant to get out of Houston on drugs… and I am being selfish… because I have a warrant here, for punching a cop while drunk..
I won’t admit to it being yours, because now if they give it back, it is mine, and I am not a snitch, I don’t give **** about going to jail. I ask for my wallet and say it has medication in it, that I am having a panic attack and need my meds. The ****ing cop gives it to me, and I look him in eye, and spit at him, run to the bathroom after grabbing my wallet he drops when I punch him, he doesn’t have a body cam on him.
He tells me I am going to prison. I bash my head in the wall, and tell him his cam isn’t on, ****er forgot to it on.
I throw up from the force of the blow to head, all over my legs.
Three cops show up as back-up.
They cuff me. I struggle, and get a resisting arrest charge as well as slammed into the cop car so hard it dislocates my shoulder.
They don’t care.
I’ll be out of jail in 3 days.
She/he will have this on his conscience forever.
I am standing on a corner waiting for you, and you tell me not to move, because you want to be able to find me, but what you are really saying is you don’t trust me.
Three hours later, I am running around looking for you, asking anyone and everyone where you are and if they have seen you, and hysterically crying, unable to fully run because I am almost choking on how much I love you, and how sorry I am that I wanted any of this at all.
You come up to me, and I ask if you got it, and you tell me you did, and then tell me it’s yours because I moved.. I am sick and about to throw up because I am addicted to heroin, and I am covered in sweat, you say I smell like I have been cheating on you. I start laughing thinking your kidding, and you’re not, you go in the bathroom and use the shit, and tell me to **** myself.
It was my ****ing money. It was my ****. It was my tears cried over you that cost me being sick the whole day. I am so done, but I am not, not yet, but soon.
I am beginning to feel better, hands that perpetually around my own neck, ringing it, and choking without realizing that I can just let go. I am so tired, exhausted from the chaotic pacing in the middle of the night, to find a safe place. I am reminded of my friend from California, and a night we spent huddled together under his jacket, crying while smoking to stay awake, we wanted to sleep so bad, our eyes heavy with the act of finding safety, away from the burning abandoned building were fires were started and blamed on drug addicts who fell asleep with fires started. No one knows the truth, there is something or someone out here, and it is hunting us, and I am afraid all the time, so I spread a rumor that I am dangerous, hiding behind perceptions of people like me, it keeps people away enough that I can survive.
I am prone to foxhole prayers, praying to anything that will listen, saying over and over, please help me, if you help me I am done… but I am not done, because I can’t rest, because it is not safe, because they come while you sleep. I don’t know who they are, I just know people I know are disappearing and they keep pointing fingers at us, and it is not true, we love each other, and are so afraid, and would do anything to sleep. I am so tired.
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
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.
I am listening, and I have an instant reaction to something you say, and I react and for a second feel okay, I was honest at least, that’s a step right? I am not lying, I am being honest. I am okay with the world and feel like I am doing the right thing.
Then I think about what I said, and the whole world lights on fire, a fire not burning with flame, but with different colors, that I have never seen before, because I have never experienced a world of color before. I have always lived in black and white, never dealing with light of day, with human being, ruler of land of push away. I sit and agonize over things that are tiny and stupid, and then resent myself for doing it, no one does this. No one has to, they are not stupid. I am stupid and think about stupid things.
Then I realize that they know that I do this, and I think I am in some way better than those around me, and that the fact that I do this makes me superior to them, and that if they only knew how specifically hard to be very specifically me it was they would
DRINK USE TOO
I just got this, that this is the process of what I usually do, and that by taking a step back and not hating myself for doing it… helped me. Thank you random stranger in the park that told me this.
In a fog of vapor, an addict puts pen to..
An addict lies about nothing to make things rhyme while wasting time
Spinning rhymes to distract themselves… have you heard there are two of me?
Clearly.
___________________________________________________________________________
I am sitting alone in silence, wondering what it is that makes me have random moments of I am going to fall off a cliff, what shifted, what did I miss?
The shot…
No not that, that is done, and you are
SPUN
You are no fun.
Neither are you not anymore…
Whore.
Ow..
Did I hurt you?
No, you were talking to yourself again.
_____________________________________________
Sometimes, I get sunburn so bad it is on the inside of my soul.
Hole.
Whole.
Consume Hole Whole Soul
Erase Transmission?
End of mission?
Mission to what?
To shut you the **** up.
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?
I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal
Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.
I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????
I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***
I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.
I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.
I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own
Maker
Breaker
Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.
Facts.
His name was Chris which is ironic, because he is a christian, so I think it is a set up somehow, like somehow someone is sending someone to spy on me and naming the characters they send after me in mocking style, because obviously I am that important right? Didn’t realize at the time, how ****ing narcissistic that was, and it is only now, that the paranoia is starting to fade, that there is not some secret plot to take me down specifically, because I am just a lying drug addict alcoholic, and I am not sure why being a serial killer sounded better than that… I have no idea.. it made me feel less powerless… I think.
I am very angry at myself about all this, because looking back at it, I realize how much of *** I was… how even though I thought I was always getting ripped of and deserved so much better, how much better could you expect your life to be when you are con-artist who panhandles for heroin, and basically tries to make people afraid to not give you money. I used to make 200 dollars a day doing this, the key was to look like you are going to rob them for more than they give you freely, and then if you get caught, you are a pretty girl, and you change your voice, and Damien is your ex boyfriend who put you up to it, and he hits you and you just want to get away.
I was such a piece of ****.
Damien
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.
Something set me off, and now I am insane, I am searching for a cause, but there is not one, not that I know of, because it was something small, that should not cause fear at all, but you sick my mind is thick with sickness, un-perceived by me, so I have to do this sometimes, write about
NOTHING, unpacking misery stuffed into a soul filled with everything and
NOTHING
I am you, I hate everything you do, you are stupid too, you do nothing right, you are a sick loser, in perpetually fight, hiding in dark night.
STOP IT **** it.
Please stop it? Please?
If I get on my knees, will you stop it?
I like it when you..
**** you.
**** you. **** you. **** you. I am not listening anymore. I am not listening to you, because you are not real. I am a human being with feelings that are real.
YOU ARE PATHETIC.
YOU are pathetic, you are not me, speak for yourself buddy, not mine.
I am done with you.
Good, I tricked you, it worked.
End. Meditation.
Better?
Kind of.
Meditations death of resentment.
Henrietta:
Poisoned sweets? We’ll wipe them out like weasels!
Grand High Witch:
Who spoke?
Miss Irvine:
[points at Henrietta and laughs]
She did!
Henrietta:
It’s brilliant!
I am sitting at the table with women who have joined my table, which was mine alone, sitting by myself for a reason… anyway..
They sit down with me, pushing me to the side, of my own **** booth and begin to tell me that they have an inside man, a woman damn it not an inside man. I tell them I don’t speak English in English, they tell me they know I am lying. I know I am lying, but I don’t want to hear this ****. I wish I could give them back the food, that I am not sure is safe to eat now, because they gave it to me.
I eat it anyway, and they tell me it is fine, but not to eat there without them, because the food is not safe, they have an inside man. I ask them why they eat it. They tell me it is safe to consume poison if you only take a small bit at a time. I think they were insane, but I don’t eat Chinese food anymore, I never know what is in it.
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.
Extremely disturbing content: Meditation for myself- do not read if triggered by anything for lovers of abstract dark horror, not intended for those triggered by anything.
Explanation:
Trigger Warning: Mentions drug/alcohol abuse to show mental change in writer who is becoming less arrogant and better informed in recovery
Trigger Warning: I lied, this is a hallucination powered by Misery
Trigger Warning: Untrustworthy narrator.
Trigger Warning: Initiate simulated paranoid schizophrenia.
_______________________________________________________________________
Abstracting Abstract of Soul decay soul facts, revealed in meditating on meditative state of I am not so great but getting better.
and the realization of my word of fixation on fixes and the complications it placed on placement in reality..
Or I am an addict who lied to themselves… or I am an addict and engaged in addict thinking and am trying to live differently, by seeing clearly that I don’t know everything.
____________________________________________________________________________
I am. I was. I am not the same. I do not have the same thoughts. I do not have the same name. I have gone. I have left. I am permanently changed, I have severed all ties, I have cut out my eyes, I am never the same, permanently change, removal of stain. I have changed my stupid name. I am done, un-spun rewind-ed, rebind-ed, reminded, unconfined, un-twined
Mind designed by me, arrogant yes, but not, just addict caught in re-wiring, and desiring new thought, because FIRST THOUGHT WRONG.
_______________________________________________________________________
Tell me please, because I desire to know…. how does the world turn?
I don’t know? I was spun and spinning myself in perpetual orbit in
HELL of self in shell on shelf in HELL
PRISONER REALLY
Do you love me baby?
Tell me please? How do you love being on your
KNEES
BEND OVER AND ROLL OVER LIKE THE DOG THAT YOU ARE
___________________________________________________________________________
I do tricks, look at me.
I am fun.
I am unspun.
I am doggie!
____________________________________________________________________________Go to Hell.
____________________________________________________________________________
In a world of addiction an addict speaks in fiction to
_____________________________________________________________________
I see flat lines, and dead eyes
______________________________
Is she still still there?
SHE has never been ANYWHERE.
My dog left me, she stayed with my ex, not my last ex, but the one before. She had a sister, and they never had been separated, so I let my ex not the last one, but the other one. The one before.
I tell myself she left me, forgetting the drive to drop her off at my ex’s house, and how dogs can’t drive, but neither can I. I did not choose that and neither did she. She was too wild and free for where I stay currently, and it is metaphoric in a way my choice to stay away, chained as I was to addiction, locking myself in a metaphoric hotel that represented the real hell of once being in a real hotel with the devil who is really my ex-boyfriend who wanted me to be everything I was not so much so, I realized everything I was not.
The dog who sits next to me now, knows all this, somehow or I feel she does. I came here, and was initially… I am ashamed to say bothered by her.. a tragic reminder of what I lost, as if it was something I owned.
I own no dog, but no one ever does, and the souls of the dogs of this world are very much the same in all their subtle differences, radiating love, unable to be felt by human beings because of their innate trust that only goes away if you are bad to them.
Reflecting on this makes me realize I did the right thing for you, my dear Fiona, and I love my mother’s dog the same way now that I still love you.
In case anyone is wondering after the public display on internet of my complete meltdown, I do not miss her at all. I am realizing she never loved me because I never loved me, so I am done with relationships, until I can learn how to walk again. I feel like I broke both my legs and have been trying to pretend they haven’t been broken for 15 years. To avoid permanent paralysis I am going to stop walking at all with anyone, walking meaning dating, and a metaphor used because dating is supposed to be a walk outside one’s self. I need to be within myself right now.
I am so lost I can’t get lost in anyone else’s eyes, because people only see reflections of people, reflected light cast to the eye in shadow, and this is too dangerous for me right now, because I am mostly in shadow, having never actually looked in the mirror, I don’t know the difference between me and a lamp, and I think this has always been my problem. I think I was so crazy because, I did not even know what a human being was, because I had been told my whole life, it did not matter what it was, because I wasn’t one anyway, being a monster addict, with paranoid schizophrenia and a split personality.
I am going to try to learn how a person like this can do something positive with their life, because I refuse to believe the only place for people like us, yes the royal we, is on the streets screaming into the chaotic night.
I am so sorry for anyone who worried about me, because of my loud public spectacle, at least I get it in my own room this time, on this on this blog only.
It is so quiet in my head, in this place, in my life right now, and while I feel more alone than I have ever felt in my entire life, I also feel more free than I have ever felt in my life. I am so done with killing myself over my past. I realize now that is what always destroyed any attempt at happiness before for me.
Amanda had a Rei Clearly, he is her ex as well now, and a lot of what you saw me go through was what she went through with him as well, she is afraid of him, so personal details about him are very limited at the moment, and will be divulged as she sees fit through herself or me on this site which now belongs to the two of us, as Rei is no longer going to be around me and has no contact with my child because she is not her biological mother, and I am not going to allow her to do what my child’s real mother did to her. I am not letting anyone mess with my kid anymore.
This includes myself. I am going to try to be a better person now, think less toxic thoughts and help my daughter live a better life than I did, which includes keeping her away from toxic people who talk about my drug use in front of my daughter who just did the same drug, which I blame myself for her even thinking about using.
Damien
Murder, murder, suicide, she’s your bride and you must die
To misery you have subscribed
I am your slave driver, I am your maker, I am your constant facilitator, I am your wife, I am your life breaker
I have your daughter, she is mine, with me you brought her
Into this world, so she could be enslaved by me your bride, your key to hell and to things referred specifically, without specification but with divine like sensation.
I am your desire for numbing beating drum of DEATH
Idea of life left
To control of other people, you need me as your steeple, I am your source of needle and thread to craft quilt that will make sure your head
Is rested and feet never tested, Damien come back, I am all you lack, you need me
I am the rack on which you keep all your pain, so you can sleep restfully so
You deserve more than you know, you reaper of hoe, you keeper of marrow, I am your sparrow, I am your bird, I will sing for you in Hell’s word.
I have felt lost recently, and I have been romancing my drugs/drinks of choice through whining and making it look like I feel bad, I was just complaining because I wanted to get high or drunk and I can’t because I don’t want to, that is my choice and holding onto the idea that I am being forced by something external is insane. I am being forced by myself, because I am out. I have realized what horror my existence was to the world, to myself, to my friends, my family, and to the streets of this country, however blown out of proportion I made it for you to see what I saw, because I don’t like to tell the whole truth, I am an ***.
I am speaking for myself and Amanda, because now more than ever we are learning to speak with the same voice, instead of the masturbatory narcissism that was seen on this site so far.
If nothing else, I am looking forward to being less of an inconvenience to those that love me.
Damien
Trigger warning, strong caution. Not literal, if you are upset by this kind of thing do not view. I am writing to process repressed self-hatred due to being born in the wrong body, this post is directed at my female form.
Isn’t that neat?
Sorry **** you ripped me off, I don’t care that your face is soft, like mine
BECAUSE MINE IS NOT.
Look, how my fist got caught on yours, my fist not his, you wanted to play a little game didn’t you baby, calling your crazy friend, and then telling your girlfriend will deal with it.
I am not your girl friend honey.
Sorry, baby just wanted your money, well and your cocaine, oh the disdain of the female brain that is now in such pain. You think I care?
I told you who I was and you called me a liar. Now look your soul is on fire, is it too good for you baby? Making you a little itchy and a little crazy, welcome to my world, my sweet little liar.
Your soul is now on fire. I loved you but you never loved me, you told me you did, but never really, I was your toy when your boyfriend hit you.
Now you scream on the corner screaming look what you let him do?
You did this to yourself, you think I did this to you????
I loved you.
You hated me and used me, and you want to talk to me about humiliation?
You only wanted me for derived sensation.
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.
Which is strange, given all I have revealed to you about what I think about. It is strange to me too as well. I think I may be getting better? I don’t know really, at least I starting to make a step in the right direction. I think it is good I taught my daughter something in all this, I am not sure exactly what. Maybe, it was my way of showing her I have some level of psychotic self-control. Honestly, a lot of it was that I for the first time wanted her to not be afraid of me. I don’t know if this is the first time I thought that actually.
I think it might be the first time I thought of anyone, but myself at all, but who knows…. I have no idea what I say on this thing.
I am just documenting feeling really. There is nothing behind it other than a desire to be less ******* psychotic so my family is not afraid of me?
I think I am making steps in the right direction at least, they are no longer afraid of me going places by myself, which is amazing because I like walking in early morning alone, and have always had a “”silent passenger” with me watching me, until recently.
I like being able to watch people, who don’t know me, because normal human behavior is rather mysterious to me, and I am trying to learn about us as a species from the outside of viewing of my fellow, I don’t know fellows?
Later,
Damien
What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
My name is See Clearly
How do you create sympathy for the unloved man.
You say you are a lunatic with weapon who will KILL THEM WHERE THEY STAND.
And then sympathetic society in its cage so please wait no, don’t touch them no. I see so clearly now, it was me that was the enemy.
I am a horror writer that uses method acting in blog style format to simulate sympathy
Because I am a narcissist that sees clearly how to create empathy.
My name is Rei, well clearly, my name is Amanda, my name is IRRELEVANT.
I am an act put on to show reader what is dealt to the men of the street, hands flung in the air saying don’t worry eat potted meat. I am the bringer of sensation of fixation with death in a society bent to sell theft of the lives of the cost, this is what it costs. It costs the screaming of sad souls on words on page. I am a simulation on the internet of human rage.
I am the forever caged man of society’s garbage can.
None of this is real baby, it is an act of the sensation of
FEEL FEEL
You feel me honey?
Isn’t their reality
Oh, so sunny.
Nobody cares, baby.
I am every man in tent hiding on the street with bent posture and dirty feet. My name is lurker on street eating potted meat. I am the eyes of the despised lurking high in the skies but sinking low, I am the act of sleep in snow. I am please baby, nooooooooooooooooooo!
Did you think it was pretty when you hurt in the city, honey?
WAS IT FUNNY????
ALL OVER MONEY????
ALL THIS OVER THAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have no name, I am the human stain. YOU ARE NOTHING. I AM DISTRUSTING YOUR SOUL BECAUSE I WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
In the crying skies lies lying despise of men dead, with severed head they can’t see.
THEY SEE NOTHING
So distrusting. I have no idea what I am even saying????????????????????
Well, that was interesting. I am bored with it now.
End simulation
sorry kisses, honey
just a narcissist transfixed by the kiss of human sensation.
I don’t know what is wrong with me sometimes, I fantasize about the strangest things, drawn to your hands and I think of times when I could cut them off, your nails are red and I think about the scraping against my skin, the red blood under your nails being so similar in character to mine, it makes me uncomfortable, I don’t want to feel this way, so I fantasize about cutting off your finger, and how it would be so easy when holding your hand to break it because they are so soft and there is nothing stopping me from squeezing it as tight as I can
YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE YOURSELF DAMIEN
I know this, and that is why I write it down, because it is so much easier than wondering how much it would take and bite you while you kiss me because I have always found it easier to taste the metallic taste of your blood than that of your cinnamon lips, I want you so badly and that makes me want to hate you, it makes me want to
Rip at the eyes, ripping me out of them so you can’t do it to me first…….
I have no self control, so I sit in a dark hole, which is the grave situation of my life, riddled with question of why does the sight of your tongue make me think of blood running out a mouth with one?
Why do I think of you coughing up blood from a blow to the stomach when I would never want to hurt you? I have no control over my mind, and it torments me more than you will ever know, I am locked in my skin, caged like a clawing animal to try to get out of myself and instead I claw at those around me,
Screaming you can’t own me, when you don’t even want to, you are the kindest person, and I am awful. I do not know what you see when you look into the pools of nothing that are the black pupils of eyes that look like nothing.
Why do you love me?
I don’t get it. I want to rip me out of me.
I hate myself so much.
Damien
Misery Loves Their Own Company 