I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Tag: paranoid schizophrenia
She is my female street name.
Thank you for clearing that up.
She is also who used to be in love with you, when I was completely insane.
Is that why she sounds like my ex-wife.
Yes. This is all completely insane.
You mean we are completely insane.
You stand out in my memory, smoke goddess, of midnight, standing with me in the fog, you and I, fought the day, you shrouded in red, and me shrouded in decay of my mind, unlike you, already gone, already mad, I stood staring out at the river, ranting about nothing, ranting about everything, speaking nothing, speaking everything, talking about the universe, but also saying nothing at all, you were very unique and also every woman I ever met.
That is one of the worst things I have ever heard you say. Every woman is the same?
No, this one was just unreal, and seemed like everyone and no one.
Okay, better, thank you.
I am the bad guy, and you just wrote a love poem to heroin.
Is that what you really think?
You realize you are insane?
So this is what it has come to, the one word answer game, so you look good and I look bad?
You are not real.
What does that even mean?
I liked how it sounded, rappers do it, why can’t it be done with horror, and actually all letters you write me are severe, because they are severly disturbing to average people.
That is actually very true.
I know that is why I thought of it.
Not everything you think is true.
Name one thing.
I am not a drug addict, I just like heroin and can do it responsibly this time, if I just don’t drink. This is actually something you were thinking today. How do I know, because I was thinking it to.
I am a box that never should have been opened.
I am trying it one time, and never again.
I will never do it two days in a row.
I can just drink one.
I can just have three.
I will start at five.
I will start at 12.
Severly, means harshly, and I think that a lot of us talking to each other, can be considered harsh, which is why I like you.
You like me because you have to, because I am you, or half you, and you are in love with your whole self which is half me.
Is that supposed to be me? Loser.. it doesn’t look like me or anyone we know..
I painted you in a way you hate.
This isn’t even painted, it is a digital image re-touch thing.
Don’t you hate stupidity??
You have nothing of mine, because you do not need it, you are so divine, need no refining touch, so I painted you badly, sadly, tragically so, I love you, though I don’t know you, never will, so sad, too bad, my sweet princess, we will never go to the far below, because I am trying to get over…
Over and over and over, up and out of the of the Hell, that is life without, anyone but me, I do not…
Yes, you do liar.
I know this, that is why I said it.
We are doing the same thing we used to do at the bar, but this time we are alone, without other people doing it too, and without alcohol or drugs… how does it feel?
Like I am cutting myself off at the knees, but I kind of like it?
Good… me too.
I wonder if this will ever get better…
I don’t think it can get worse than this, so I think we will either die, or it will get better… or it will stay just this bad forever and ever…
How bad is this?
I don’t know, it has always been this… so how bad is it really?
I am still alive? I guess that means it is okay enough…
Please baby, don’t go away, I need you so much, you are so sweet, your love is so special, you make me complete. You are my sunshine, my sweet turtle dove, you make me feel everything I thought meant true love. I love everything about you, without you I’ll die, I am ever so sorry I had to lie. You wouldn’t understand, could not tell truth, I need your money, couldn’t tell you.
I needed your money, and feared you would cry, so I told you a little tiny white lie, but don’t worry sweetie, it is okay, I promise I’ll stop, now don’t go away. I promise to always do what you say, now stop your crying and please let me
Tell her everything you need her to hear, she is your source of happiness, now ***hole be sincerce.
I am addiction
I aim for the heart
I take everything you love
I am the act of push and shove
My turtle dove, my turtle dove, you are gone, because I only loved myself and that bottle and needle and spoon on my upper right shelf.
I am the ing, the exstention of what it means to be, you live in me, you live
But, do you?
I don’t know, isn’t this what it is to be alive?
Is it really?
I came for your best friend, last night while you were sleeping…………
I would know, I would know, I would know. That isn’t so, she lives with me, lives with me, we are together, always and forever
YOU ARE DISGUSTING
I am nothing.
I know this.
Hey, what are you doing?
You know the thing we do everyday… talking to voices from that place we go..
You are so near and dear to me
How I love to
I am the act of go, I am the act of go
i n g
How does it feel to be back?
How does it feel……….
How does it
I am the act of
I never go, I never go, I never go
Do you hear the sound?
What are you doing?
I am going nuts, but it’s interesting, I can control it a little bit now, I think the whole meditation thing is working, if I let my crazy out in little bits I don’t hallucinate as bad.
It’s working for me too..
I am okay. I am doing better.. I am physically and emotionally exhausted, but doing much better.
Thank you for helping me, or helping us.
My pleasure, I am helping myself too, so it is not a problem at all, but I like helping you, always have.
I like helping you too.
Aquaman is a cool movie right?
Yeah, I was watching it too.
I thought you were asleep?
Nope, just not talking during a movie.
I am running from my own reflection, because I hate being my own reflection.
I used to run from someone, who also ran from me.
I was blind and couldn’t see the person chasing me was me, and the person I was chasing was the same. The person I stood laughing on the corner with, buying tragic things with, and staining my soul with was always my own reflection.
Two and the same, one and the same, not a stain, but a reflection.
Color me, abstract, color me dark.
Color me so I don’t see in the dark.
I am lack of sight.
I am out of mind.
I am sole of shoe, stuck in gum of decline.
I am no longer, but I look back in time.
I am sole of shoe stuck in what is still left in mind.
Every time I went looking for missing things, that they stole, every time I went looking for missing things that they stole
I was looking for missing things I had already used or lost.
They, I was the cost of a tragic decision to deny who I was for half my life.
I am better now, that I am no longer denying who I was and am.
Where do you run?
If it kills me, it kills me.
If it kills me, I am stronger.
If it kills you, you are dead, and it won’t kill you, it has no hands.
It has a hand in my death.
That is because we let it.
I run in Hell, well Misery but same thing, a spiritual pergatory of nothingness, of absence, that is what it is, they say in certain texts that the lack of the divine is Hell, that is what Misery is.
What do you run from?
You are the lack of the divine?
I am fear incarnate.
You are a human being experiencing fear, you are not fear or pain or death, but a human being experiencing those things.
Yeah, they remind me that I get acid reflux from drinking, because alcoholism has eaten my stomach lining, killed sensation in my hands, and caused my mental illness to get worse.
For realizing that or for destroying myself?
Which one do you think?
I want off this ride.
I want to know when all the consequences of my life will be over.
I want to know anything at all.
I want control and I know this is not possible.
But I want it so bad.
What? I am really stressed out about this tooth thing.. I am the one dealing with it most of the time now, so leave me alone please.
I think I am doing pretty good. I haven’t lost my mind yet, and have only been slightly pacing around talking to myself.
I think you are doing pretty good too.
I appreciate you dealing with things I can’t.
I am so happy right now, I heard something outside and remembered being the voice in your head.
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.
You have very low faith in yourself.
Nice double entendre.
Yeah, I am.
How do you know?
I can hear you think too, and you are not as bad as you think. I never hated you, and your ex was a jerk, just like mine, because they are the same jerk.
I know they are the same jerk. I just hate myself more.
That is because you are worse at lying than me.
Why is that?
You are more real than me. I am a facade made of stardust.
That makes me sad.
Everything makes you sad.
That one was really mean.
I know, I am sorry.
I keep thinking about all the lies I told to get things that I didn’t need, and all the times I stole from people to get things I didn’t need. I am not okay with it now. Like even the simplest thing of holding a sign when I could have worked.
Could you really have worked? You spend half your day talking to yourself out loud or crying…
I am serious… I don’t think you have as much to feel guilty about as you think. You were just an addict.
Is that how you feel about you?
No, I hate myself too.
We are the same person, and I tricked you.
You are? I thought so, you have been writing weird dark stuff all day.
Do you still like me?
What makes you ask that?
You insult me all the time.
I am just playing around, and of course I still like you, you really help me. I am glad I am you.
Thank you, maybe one day I will like myself enough to not have to try to scare people away with aggression.
I hope so.
I miss a lot of things
Looking at the ground to make sure
I will not trip
I am talking to me.
I am talking to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The narrator hates themself.
The narrator needs to calm down.
The narrator hates themself.
Okay I feel better.
But really looking for rocks
Or darts to toss
In the trash, because you know it is my goal to
FOCUS ON EVERYTHING THAT KILLS ME
Stop it man, seriously.
Why? I am done anyway.
You are helping me,
You are me, but you are also not, and you are helping me.
Thank you self.
I am dumb
Look at me
I am dumb
I can’t see
Just spilled soup all over my hands, so obviously that is everyone else’s fault not mine… hahahaahahah.
Guess who is still winning….
Jab. Ow. You got me. I was trying to talk to you anyway.
I am glad, I was having fun watching you burn yourself, and felt bad about it.
Why would you thank me?
That helped me, I wouldn’t have been able to think of that alone.
I have a headache.
Thank you though.
Your welcome, just was thinking of that all day.
I really appreciate it.
I am glad, because it made my head hurt.
At least we both learned something.
I know, I am having issues, I think it is just what my brain does.
Having a hard time being alone?
I am too.
Is that why you are talking to yourself on a dark screen?
Isn’t that what you are doing?
Then why am I an ***hole?
Because I hate it when you are right
You hate being right? I love being right.
That is why I am friends with myself.
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 watched by birds of night, existing in darkness, we talk and do not fight, setting the dark alight, we conversate in eyes of fright.
I dance in the stars and reflect on the moon, looking at it while I fly in the nigth of June.
I speak to you, and think you hear me, because when I talk your wings beat frantically, I am chasing you, and you are flying away, I am alone, please stay.
The moon is green because your leaving makes me sad. You are my only friend right now, and it drives me mad.
I have no one to talk to, please don’t go away, you, oh owl are the only visitor who has came this way.
I will miss you friend, though I don’t know you, you stayed to short, but for your company, I surely owe you.
I have nothing left, so I will leave this here, it is the last of my food, it’s left right here.
Please come back.
Do you swim with sharks or dolphins.
I swim alone.
You swim with voices, like always.
SCHISM. ISM. ISM.
I am, misery, I am pain I am a
I am the holder of grudge, and I am lost in this poem.
I like to make images different than are, by covering them in darkness.
Swimming in the water is hard, when it is riddled with sharks.
I am the voice of pain.
I am soul reeking disdain.
Mushrooms are a food that tastes good.
Dancing in light is hard, when you live in the ground.
Rising from the ground can be done over night.
I am a fledgling bird.
The smell of moss lights the way, for those with dirty noses.
Under the stars, is found a world, united with ground, but looking up at the night sky. U
Under the moon, is felt the light of the stars, in blue tones, it paints the ground, with the possibility of future lightning storms, the sound of thunder, and ability to hear and see, when before senseless.
I heard the door slam. I don’t think I did it, my step dad, he says it was the wind. I think it might have been me. My mother says they were fighting.
I was fighting with Diane at the same time.
You were? Why?
Because she is still getting high, and she was pissing me off, she was accusing me of still getting high, while she was high as Hell. I have been clean and sober as long as you.
I know, loser, I am you.
I know you know that, I just forget sometimes. I think she is trying to drive me insane.
I think you are trying to drive you insane, as a justification to get high.
So you’re telling the truth now???? Good one, Amanda.
Don’t call me that.
What do I call you then because you can’t have my name, I am using it.
I don’t have one, I can be whoever you want me to be…
That’s disgusting, but I like it.
Bring back old memories?
Yeah, and stop it.
That’s why you won, you are better at being sober.
That’s because I am a unicorn.
I am done with you for now.
Sometimes, others I see this.
I had a pair of shades once, they almost looked rosey, but a little off. They made things look a little fuzzy, like I was always a little bit blurry. They were called alcohol, I don’t think they were shades now that I think about it, I think normal people call them glasses, not the same thing I think… I think one you wear on your eyes and the other eats my mind.
I like crayons.
I am a crab, because I have a shell that is thin but feels hard. I am a crab because I pinch you when you come near me, so you don’t step on me, because I am so pokey. Hahahah. I am heroic.
I am a jerk because I make too many jokes about sowing seeds of
In a dark world, a human being discusses with friends the effects of fear on the human soul, or u los minus one s for something… sickness… maybe… I am
La de de de da da da.
Welcome to disorder, we love you.
I love everybody.
I am dissing my own order, what did I order, french fries, an hour ago, I ordered myself to make them, but I don’t make food for myself because I hate me.
That is called disjointed speech. If I do it on here, it ends faster.
Apparently, and I knew this, but I did not know how bad it was. My memories have become so disjointed from the reality that is experienced by other people, they are no longer trustworthy enough to be considered anything more than a continuous dream state, and I do not know if this is fixable…. I am assuming that it might get better with time, but I am not sure, and I am not sure I care at this point.
I do not know if I should care, or if it is better to just accept the fact that I am untrustworthy narrator of my own life, and that everything I believe is suspect.
I think I am alright enough with that, it is what it is, and I think it is better for it just to be accepted that way, then to try to fight for dominance with a universe, that I no longer exist in or see eye to eye with.
I wonder, and this is the reason for this post, if there is any validity to my reality at all? I wonder if my reality or the reality of the insane exists alongside the reality of most, and if we just notice different things, because that would be a lot nicer, than to think that my whole conception of the world is fictitious.
I am okay with either one, I guess.. because I have to be.
Oh, well. Life goes on.
I need to live alone, the results of this oscillation are dizzying. I am not, nor have I ever been good at the whole living with people thing, it goes well at first and then they realize what I am like and try to HELP, or cure parnoid schizophrenia through polite suggestion of normal adaption strategies and ways to fit in.
I am sorry, I hallucinate, and am never sure how much of my reality is real. I do things that upset and scare people like
singing to myself
talking about innappropriate things because I do not know the difference between appropriate and inapproriate
not knowing the difference between emotional honesty and aggression
talking all the time, under my breath to myself, at myself, with myself
So now I because I live hear, and people couldn’t leave me alone, I get to feel uncomfortable for asking to be left alone, and not being left alone, and snapping.
I am accountable yes, it is my fault for snapping yes, but I just wish I knew when I was going to figure out a way out of this situation so I could do what is best for everyone and get out of here.
saying whatever comes into my head instantly because I no longer have an inner monologue
I need to get out of here, and to a place, by myself, before I lose my mind permanently.
I am the caged dog.
Thinking they are smart,
An individual drives to an animal shelter, they are a good dog trainer, having trained many dogs, of all kinds. They drive to an animal shelter, and adopt a dog. The dog has a history of being used to rescue people from burning buildings, but has hurt its leg, so it is no longer useful for its job, and was put up for adoption, out of kindness.
The dog seems nice enough, it sits scared in the corner, but responds nicely to anyone who comes to see it, however it remains in its corner.
A brave soul adopt the dog, takes it home, and it does well except it refuses to sleep in the spot desired for it.
It instead sleeps right by the door to backyard. Thinking, themself clever, the new owner tries to re-train the dog. They want only for it to experience comfort, unknowing of what discomfort is caused by the re-train process, they begin to try to change the nature of the dog.
It takes one month for the owner to re-turn, unsure of why the dog was so good at first, but when presented with normality it slowly slipped into “untrainability”.
All you had to do was let it sleep by the door
Which it did because it had been used to being in burning buildings
And found comfort in being by the exit
Why do the “normal” find it comforting to force the abnormal to be them?
This is uncomfortable for us.
If we are allowed to be
We can recover
Do not try to change us
It harms us
That is literally my favorite holiday… ****! I think I forgot it, because I was supposed to, because other than the Fourth of July, it is one of the days I have the hardest time not drinking. The Fourth of July, I used to get hammered and loudly talk about what a good American I was until I almost got arrested, and then I liked to tell the cops arresting me what a good American I was, which would usually cause them to either not arrest me, or to violently arrest me.
It was hilarious.
But it is the reason why I have a bunch of warrants for failure to appear.
I don’t appear for anyone I don’t want to. Not even myself.
What brings you to these woods, my woods, what do you want?
You are not desired here intruder, and should leave, having, as you do dominion over the whole expanse outside these woods, while I have nothing but them.
There is no reason for your presence hear, there are plenty of other woods, in areas much like this, that you can row your little boat in the river of.
This is the only spot that has yet to be discovered by the park rangers damn it, and it is the only spot you decided to row your stupid little boat.
Your boat sucks, and I hate you.
**** it. I dropped my cigarette. ****. I hate you. Now it’s ****ing wet.
Getting my own place, and moving on with everything I mean. I am realizing how much worse this whole thing has made me, and thinking that having a place where I can be alone would be good. I think the paranoia will get a lot better, if I am alone. Which is funny because I think that this something the universe was trying to tell me and I wasn’t listening. I think that this is why I have gotten as bad as I have, because I am pretty insane right now, or I think I am… in comparison to how I used to be.
I just talked to my family about getting an attorney to handle a disability claim I have going on, because I am very good at losing jobs, over and over and over. I have had a lot of them, but I lose every single one for one reason or another. Usually because some paranoid delusion justifies me not showing up or being drunk or high when I show up because I am afraid and use or drink because I am afraid.
It really helped me to talk to my family about all of this, I feel less like a pacing lunatic now, at least I know the whole world is not out to get me now.
Oh, now you can’t talk suddenly, well good, at least this helps clarify what the *** is going on here. Leave me alone, **** it.
What now? I wrote down your stupid thing you were saying at me **** it.
You are always alone.
I know, I am working on it… wait why am I still typing to you, get the **** out of my head.
I am sin, I am sin, let me in, let me in, I will knock down your doors, I will eat at your floors, I am corrosive, I am erasing, I am maddening and saddening, I am resigned to be lurking in the minds of the damned man, who sadly
CAN’T STAND ON HIS OWN TWO FEET
Isn’t it neat? Isn’t it fine? The decline of the decaying mind? It i is great, isn’t it?
No. You are wrong, death’s song, playing on and on, and on and on, ryhming madness, soul sadness, see you caught me doing it.
But, this is ****, this is stupid, I don’t want to listen to you anymore.
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
You will never find anything, like me, I am so free, living impossibly in a land that
I am death’s kiss,
I am paranoid schizophrenia.
I am looking at the lights, and I swear, that if I think about it, they become brighter. I am not sure why. I am not sure if it is as simple as I am opening my eyes more, and in some paranoid delusion I think I am manipulating light.
I am walking, in a memory, not now, obviously right now I am typing to you, whoever you are.
I am walking, forward, very conscious of it being forward to something, I have no had anything to drink, I mean water in seven days.
I think this is how long it was, not sure, I am begining to suffer the effects of extreme dehydration, falling into a lunacy unlike anything I have ever known, which is unfortunate because it is making it impossible to get water, and it’s funny, no matter how much I make a fool of myself, no one calls an ambulance either, or maybe they do and this was not as long as I thought it was and I am experiencing a false memory where time is relative to my idea of how much I suffered.
A man with a hose in his yard saves me, giving me a gallon jug of water and some food, I asked the universe out loud for this, I am not sure how long it took to answer, like I said, I am not sure how long this whole process took, I think I might of been in a state of madness.
Daily writing prompt
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be free from being in the back of my own head, living a life of falsehood, bad faith pretending to be something I was not just because I thought society would not accept me, us, both of us. I am two people. I don’t care how insane that sounds. I have the thoughts and opinions of two people, and can give two completely separate sets of reactions. I am also me, and trapped in a girls body, but she needed me, she hates herself, because she doesn’t want to be a girl either. Neither of us did. I think we were sentenced to this, because we are both supposed to do something together, but I am crazy and have an overinflated sense of self-importance, so don’t listen to me.
I have no idea what question… oh yeah… when I grew up… I don’t know alive? I will settle for alive… not being dead is good.
I have been having a constant hissy fit, online, and I am fine
With it, but I am done, it is no longer fun, and I am done, I am going to shun the things in me that make me prone to drone on and on and on, at myself, because I may be attacking me, but it is still an act of falsely attacking, in fallacy really.
The whole thing an ad hominem attack, massive due to lack of maturity, and inability to look in the mirror, I spit acid bile on here, where you can’t see me, and I attack me fallaciously representing you in fallacy, because no one can hurt me like I do, building a straw man, with legs that can’t stand, because I am insane.
I am done, with draining my toxic brain, I think I can learn to stand on my own two feet again, without cutting yours out from under you, who have long since, forgotten about all this…
See there was nothing to save, I was right, you were wrong, and you saved yourself from watching me slowly rip myself into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to do anything with my **** life anyway.
I am getting better, and I don’t need you, anyway. I can do this without your help, because you never understood… I kept saying over and over I am done, and you would want to go out and have a drink with me. I can’t ****ing do that responsibly, and I told you that. OVER and OVER and OVER and you insisted you could teach me how to drink the right way????
I don’t want to drink anymore **** it. I am doing this now, and you are still saying you are worried about me, and you are still using????? HOW AM I THE BAD PERSON????? STOP CALLING ME.
THIS happened two weeks ago, de Soto.
No one calls you anymore.
That is not true, I have friends…. just not her. Just not her.
You want all my booze, it’s a handle, take it. I don’t need it, I don’t want it. I don’t need to feel okay, you can have it, it is yours, I am going to vomit, my heart is sore, it’s so important, I am not someone you loved, you just want substances not me, I hate this, I would have quit, I would have done it, but you had a fit. You want my ****, not my heart, don’t even ****ing start, don’t make this anything other than what it is.
I am not high. I am not high. I am just drunk as ***, I am not buying you anything. GO TO ****. I quit. I quit. I quit.
Take everything I own, I am going the **** home. I don’t want to drink anymore anyway.
They won’t help you. I saved you. Let me die alone.
I want to die alone. I am hanging up the phone, go be sober and clean. I am too ****ing mean to let myself live. Your soul is saved.
How many hours a day would you estimate you spent on your blog, including writing, reading, and commenting? If you didn’t blog, what would you do with the time you currently spend on your blog?
You are asking me how I item-ize my time. How long do I spend on here? Why? There is no distinction between the things that I do during the day. I do not have the ability to space things individually. In other words, I do not know and this question makes me uncomfortable.
If I didn’t blog, I would be doing the same thing I do on here, out loud outside. I talk to myself on here, because I have something wrong with me, and I don’t have an inner monologue. The things I think come out of my mouth, unless I am writing, then I get some sort of semblance of peace for a second, because the things I think about, which are often unorganized fear driven nightmares, are projected onto this screen instead.
I write on here, so that I don’t walk around my house talking to myself anymore. If I didn’t write on here, I would walk around somewhere talking to myself, all day, every day, on repeat for the rest of my **** life.
It does not get better if I quit doing anything. This is my life un-medicated forever.
Which is why I need to get back on medication, which I am going to do. Soon.
My perspective is dead itself, or the idea that I have the ability to even have perspective is dead. It died for me when I was eight years old, when I realized I do not live in reality.
Block of Wood
You happened a long time ago, and every day, because you are a metaphor for mental decay.
I am staring at a block of wood, I do not know how I came to be staring at a block of wood, I do not have any knowledge of how long I have been standing here, I do not know what time I started staring at the block of wood, or where it is placed in the universe, or if I am even in the universe at all right now. I am simply staring at a block of wood in the dark, and can’t tell what time it is. It is that rare time of day or night when it is indistinguishable whether it is in fact day or night. I am not sure, I have no perspective anymore. I long ago gave that up because I am constant propelled into a reality that I am not sure of the reality of, so I relate to nothing, which means I have no perspective. This is beginning to change, but goes right back when this happens, and I have to fight my way out of the dark cavern that is the Hell of my mind.
I do not know why I was staring at the block of wood. I just know that I swear, I swear on everything in me, that I began to see the atoms if I focused enough, that made up the wood itself. I know I am insane, that this is all just hallucination, and indication that I am doing something right, because my mind does this to me whenever I make any sort of progress, sends me forwards, backwards, longways, short ways, and to a position of staring at a block of wood and wondering if I can communicate with my cat better orally or through telepathy.
I am standing at the window, staring outside, and I see something strange.
I am drawn to it, and do not know why. It is a light in the distance, a blue light.
The light flickers on and off, in a strange pattern. It flickers three times, and seems to change when I stare at it.
I stare at it.
It switches on and of three times, separated my 30 seconds each time. This has been going on all night, I noticed it when I got up to go see what my cat was doing, he made a noise and stood by the door, and appeared to be transfixed by this light as well. We stood staring at it, sometimes I think my cat can hear what I think… I looked down at him to see what he thought. He looked back at me, making eye contact with me, three times. We would look at the light, watch it do its thing, and then make eye contact, until the whole thing had happened nine times.
I asked my cat what he thought about it, and he replied, it is taunts me.
I thought back to him, and he replied audibly this time. Taunt. It is taunting me. I am not sure whether he thought this because he was a cat, or because the light itself is taunting us. It stopped about 15 minutes ago. I don’t know if any of this was real.
Today is going to be strange.
I was talking to a friend of mine today, and I am not sure, how much of the physical pain I am in is even real anymore. I don’t know if I am just pacing, consumed with hallucinations and trying to meditate on something physical. I used to squeeze my hands till they would bleed, physically digging my nails into my own hands, until I dug holes into my skin. I wonder if this is like that. I wonder how much of this is because I am trying to distract myself from the things that make it so hard for me to be normal.
I wish I knew what it felt like to be normal. I am always thinking of running away, running back outside, I hate it out there.. but I have never known anything different. I have always been running to something, but when I get there.. I leave.. I just can’t stay still. I don’t know what it means to stay still. The idea of still terrifies me.
I wish I could stay still. People like still. They don’t like this, they want to help this, but I am not sure they can. I am not sure about anything. I am just hoping that something will change this time. I am hoping I can find peace somewhere and not hate it. I am so tired of hating happiness. I am so tired of searching for something, finding it and then not wanting it.
I want to want something, but I have no idea what that even means. I am so tired. I am so sick of this. I just want something to work this time, so I can finally be okay with idea of things being okay, I am so tired of ruining my life.
I don’t want the drugs or the booze anymore, and I don’t have any other way of ruining my life, which scares me, which is crazy.. I am scared by the possibility that I may be forced to be happy.. like happy is a bad thing.. I know how insane that is, but still I feel that, and it is the strangest thing.
I recognize the insanity of it, and yet, I still feel the desire to ruin my life, even though I don’t want to.
I am so thankful that at least I really don’t have it in me to do any drugs or drink again, I don’t think my body can handle it anymore. I am so tired… and my hands feel like they are on fire, my stomach is rotted away because of drinking.. I am so done.. I am just hoping that I will learn to know peace at night.
I would rather cut out both my eyes, so I can’t see to organize than I would do what you say with my stuff, I’ll throw it out, now go away.
I rather do that than hear your voice, telling me where to put it, like it it’s your choice. I do not need your help. I do not care, what you say about where to put what away.
It’s a mess, and I don’t care, what you say, and will not put that there. I don’t want advice, just to be left alone, give me back my stupid old phone. It has stuff on it that like, and yes it works, and I know I have two, but I do not want to deal with you, so get out now, go away.
It’s a mess because I am too, and I don’t want to deal with you, and will not listen to what you say, so throw it out and go, scram, stray.
Trigger Warning- Paranoid Schizophrenic quarrel with myself about how I hate myself. May be disturbing.
I have a query, ever so leery, because I know the answer.
I HATE MY SELF.
I speak to me, all the time, a mind in perpetual quarrel with itself, a life on shelf fighting it’s
Contract shunned by me, I am glee, glee,
Quarrel with me, self.
I am clearly on shelf.
Isn’t that shell fish shelled fish
Did you just call me a fish???
Yes, and selfish
I fight with voices in my head, that can be red with passive aggression or read on here.
I am looking at you, and wonder how you do that?
That standing upside down thing? That standing inverted thing?
How did you make the world flip over?
I don’t get it…
Please come closer..
I also would like to know…
Why my legs hurt and feel like they may go
Out from under me….
I can see you know by your grimace…
You seem to know something I do not…
Now please tell me….
My face is hot with…
I can’t feel…
Let go, your hanging upside down from a tree. The ground is right below you, let go, and it will catch you, you can even touch it, just open your eyes, you have your eyes shut, you are seeing things not there, your eyes are shut, open them, and get down from hanging upside down.
I turn on my computer, and open a word file, got mail from myself.
YOU SUCK, and I hope you die.
Schizophrenic email is awesome, so glad I opened it.
It’s blurry, and I can see a light house, but I don’t know why, I don’t know where I am, and why I am standing, right here right now.
I feel like I am going to throw up. I am moving forward slowly. I reach out for something to steady myself and can’t find anything, I think I am on a dock somewhere, or a board walk. Probably a board walk, a dock would be moving more, but I am dizzy, and it starts to feel like it might be a dock…
I lurch forward…… vomiting on my shoes..
I realize it is a dock, and dip my foot in the water…..
It cleans off the vomit.
I sit down.
There are people talking about a restaurant next door, it smells like Indian food. I can smell garlic and curry.
I am sorry for the exposure to my… insanity. I am just being honest, and thank you for accepting me, it means the world. I am grateful. That is the word that describes me, a description of how I feel, not what I have wrong with me. I am so thankful.
I decided to leave a party that a random stranger must have decided to organize to celebrate the Spring Equinox. I was not acquainted with any of the parties occupants as I had not been invited, so my leaving was of no consequence to any of the participants in the costume party. I had a hooded jacket on that had been long enough to pretend I was dressed appropriately enough to pretend that I was invited and came as some sort of modern hooded reaper, which was appropriate given the reason for my leaving.
I had become nervous while talking to a women who was dressed as a woodpecker, she was laughing in this hectic desperate way, and it was maddening, her jaw chattering and I kept thinking of the sound of a woodpeckers beak on wood, and thinking about how different her head would sound if I slammed it over and over into the tree branch that was so bright and illuminated by the light of the moon. Rather than then prolong the uncomfortable death meditation, I took the rest of my pitcher of stolen booze and walked off with preference to animate the already dead corpses in my squat house.
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 don’t know why, but night time makes me want to cry. The loneliness is so intense it radiates through my whole body, feeling like they cut out a vital organ, which is sad because the only vitality I provided you was not vital at all, but fatal, and I done with being a malady, parody and obscene joke that is just your ticket to free toke, poke, or smoke. I hate you so much because you call me all the time, and I never answer and it has been a year and I still wish I could answer, and you would be who I thought you were, and not the soul sucking drug addict leech that cared more about getting high than going with me to the hospital, so you told me my hand wasn’t that bad and I trusted you and now I am missing half my right thumb and I am right handed.. and it kills me, because I have to see it every time I write… and you knew that.. so stop calling about the type writer..
I feel like crying..
Time makes me scream, it makes me dream of things that don’t make sense or cents, that is not true liar, you have made plenty of money in time.
Yeah, but I spent it all on dimes.. I traded it in for dimes at the cash machine.
I congratulate me on a day where I was only an ***hole last night, and complimented random individuals in the food store aggressively.
They seemed confused.
Okay, I am going to try to not to do the stupid thing now.
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.
I am listening to swan lake, which I love because apparently, you make everything about you ****.
I hate you, I love swans, and swan lake, and this song, and I want you gone, out of my head, I want you….
Stop it. Stop it.
You are not that, think of the cat. Think of the cat. Remember what your friend said. Think of the **** cat.
**** his cats.
Oh, so this is about him too now?
It is about all them………..
It’s all for you, Damien.
SCREW YOU. I am not that. I am not that. I am not that.
That was mean. That was mean……
Leave me alone. Leave me alone.
You are alone. You are always alone.
I hate you.
I hate you. I hate you.
Love yourself, dude.
I am so sorry.
Okay, I am done.
I feel better.
I am done.
“The world’s a hard place, Danny. It don’t care. It don’t hate you and me, but it don’t love us, either. Terrible things happen in the world, and they’re things no one can explain. Good people die in bad, painful ways and leave the folks that love them all alone. Sometimes it seems like it’s only the bad people who stay healthy and prosper. The world don’t love you, but your momma does and so do I.” ― Stephen King, The Shining
The tortured inn keeper, thinks no one who stays at the inn cares about the inn, thinking that the ins and outs of those without the responsibility of caring for the inn indicate a lack of caring,
That is really coming from within, a manifestation coming from the desire to
Of one’s self, pushing those around
GET OUT NO
I am you
The caretaker is a drinker, they think this is because they take such good care of the inn, that they deserve a reward
AN ETERNAL REWARD
Manifesting in alcohol consumption or consuming
They consume it on the regular, but it is not important the frequency just that it eats their
ER ER ER
ER ER ER
The innkeeper talks to me about keeping fires, about the duties of keeping an inn, and about the need to do things to keep the inn, like make it a little easier, by consuming poison.
I am a frequenter of many motels, so I have met many innkeepers, such tortured, kind hearts, that do not know their goodness.
I forget sometimes, that I have glasses, getting up in the middle of the night and crashing into walls because I did not put them on. I walk without them frequently and cannot see clearly, because I have gone without them before, for years when in active addiction.
The eyes of others, guide me, but I am paranoid, debating internally with universe, I question intention constantly, seeing things they don’t and debating with myself what is real while they are just walking down a street undisturbed, knowing none of what I am doing in my mind, while they walk peacefully next to me.
I clean my lenses, real glasses not metaphoric often, caught in an OCD futility of see clearly, forgetting that I see things others do not, and I am left to wonder, am I noticing things that matter or do they only matter to me?
I talk to those who no one hears, because no one notices them, they stand on street corners, muttering into what they presume is the dark night, but I hear them, and engage them. To me they speak of us not only of them, they have the same reality as me, and they seek to defend
It to those who say it is not real, knowing that it is, in their mind they feel,
So I say to you are they really that wrong, hearing voices, and the gong of death? Are their cries of madness from a reality left? Or simply different because they see things you cannot? Is their reality poison or are they simply caught? Captivated by thing you hear not?
Distracted by things you can’t see, that we notice with fervent impunity?
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.
the broken remains of something wrecked or otherwise ruined. (dictionary.com)
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.
I had a friend of mine really help me today, they told me something that helped me realize why I have been having such a hard time. I think that I have to do everything the right way the first time, if I don’t I get frustrated and experience feelings of PTSD from trauma from addiction and I start to hallucinate, and think paranoid thoughts like the bananas in the advertising in the store are there to taunt me, because the people who run the store know I am a thief and know that I am there and are doing this at me to taunt me and people like me, because they hate us and its a conspiracy against us, perpetrated by them, who is everyone who is not us.
My friend told me that this is just symptom of PTSD and that it will get better if I learn to forgive myself gradually and then the guilt will go away which is actually behind these episodes. My point being that I was able to take a step back from this paranoid thinking, and realize what was going on, and take myself out it to the point where it stopped happening, this has never happened for me before. I am so happy for this being a thing for me. I really thought this was not ever possible. I thought I was not normal and not ever going to be able to permanently change, because I was broken in some way, my friend told me that is just addict thinking, not unique to me, and just saved me from ruining my own day.
an abortion. I think that is why you were so easily banished from the story, because now I can’t hear you anymore, and I don’t think you are there anymore, and strangely, it feels better, maybe I am learning something after all, not just being an *** online. You were an inner demon.
Rei was Justin, you were their child or the child she could have had with Diane who’s name was Pat.
Demon slayer, I like the sound of that, because demons bug the **** out of me.
Okay, guess I am alone again.
NO YOU’RE NOT JERK
I knew that? But, I guess I forgot.
Peace. I am okay now, and everything is about me, and I just hit my vape way too hard. Ow… dizzy.
I am finally beginning to like myself for the first time in my entire life. I have never liked myself my entire life, I did not realize this till just recently, I hated me, so I was constantly defending myself to myself, I did not realize these were not always schizophrenia, but personal demons that were very different than the voices, they are easier to deal with and have started to subside now that I have begun to remove the toxicity from myself and my life. I am so happy to be free of all this. I am so happy to be free from everything that was making me so miserable, every day, and it’s so silly because a lot of it was me doing it to my own self. I realize that now, but the thing is the position I was in was partially responsible for everything I felt, not in the taking away accountability from me kind of way.
I am accountable for all the things I have done, but that does not mean I need to destroy myself over it and resent others for the things I am doing to myself, with my own hands. I am sorry to those that are hurt by me, to those who I metaphorically killed, because I am not a real serial killer, just a personification of addiction and manifestation of the guilt of an addict who did not realize how much they did not have to put a mask on the truth that they blame themselves for everything.
I was Amanda, but I am becoming myself, Damien de Soto, take it or leave it. I have never killed anyone, just facilitated the death of addicts through never saying stop using when we were getting high together, my daughter is real to me, in my world of future, but she is not real for Amanda yet, and I hope you understand what I mean by that I was not lying when I said anything I said, but rebuilding a soul for a life that I thought was already over, as Amanda and built for me, her future self, I am very much real because these are her real thoughts and feelings, and my family represents families she just recently new and one specific child who she never stood up for because she was getting drugs from their parent.
When asking what I did about my daughter, I was relieving a past feeling of resentment. Amanda called child protection services on someone who she had dealt with in the past, because she did not like what was going on in that house, and she and I were asking the universe if it was done out of resentment or if that was truly the right way to handle it. I think it was, she secretly does too, we both hope the kid is alright, although we never followed up to see if they responded to our call.
Thank you for your support it means the world.
Damien and Amanda, but mostly Damien.
It was this guy ranting about how prison doesn’t sound that bad
Free place to live
I thought it was hilarious, but then was immediately grasped at the neck by anxiety and asked her why she was showing it to me.
I hate being schizophrenic, I have done nothing that would cause me to worry about this, but that is my instant reaction. I hate being insane. I didn’t snap at her. Small steps.
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.
You have no idea how it is to be in the bathroom without looking in the mirror, most of the time, I would just shut my freakin’ eyes, which is a pain in the ***, and led to many injuries that were not about being intoxicated, but a lunatic, that had gotten sick of cutting my hands on punching out glass mirrors. I have never looked like myself, in reality or in Misery, I have always looked different, and I would do anything to get rid of my own reflection, even attempt to rip out my own eye, which is why I never touch my eyes. I am still afraid to touch them because of PTSD from one time I tried to rip out my own eye.
I was tripping and unaware of the distinction between reality and dream, I had been awake for days rolling on dxm, and had taken some acid and was either over tired or I don’t and became overcome by the idea that I could do anything I wanted with my hands.. like rip out my own eye, because that is what you would want to do if you realize you are free to do anything you want… I am insane… getting better though… at least this doesn’t happen anymore… small steps.
You killed I will make sure your blood is… oh that’s right you don’t have that because you have no legs to stand on, no place to land on, and need me to hit any vein at all, you can’t even make a call to get sauced or star crossed so get lost! My eyes are mine not thine, and I am no longer resigned to die, because I like life. I am no longer addicted to human strife, no I am addicted of stab pain with KNIFE, but I can’t do that so… because that is not real, and I am no longer a prisoner of feel,
I am now becoming more real, no longer need to steal or lie, I can take out your stupid eye or can’t I because you don’t have one. You see through me, which is sad, because I can’t see clearly, is your vision blurry ****? Her’s a fix, get in ditch.
I think I am starting to learn how to feel again, or for the first time. I didn’t remember what this was like, or technically… I don’t know if I have ever felt this at all. The kid died when I was actively using and I never heard about it because I was too busy getting high to even be worth telling, wow, gut punch. If nothing else… this is more reason than ever that I believe there is something behind this. That something wants all living things to live in greater harmony and experience less pain.
I am listening to my family talk about the kid, I knew him personally, just didn’t know he was a drug addict like me. I didn’t bother to ask, because I was always so wrapped up in my own life to have friends, I had dealers and using buddies, and was a friend to no one. I am going to try to change that from now on. I am done being negative, till I forget and start ranting again.
They think I get up in the middle of the night to experience the hours of the day before they wake up, this is only half true. I do not do this out of a desire to be alone. I just simply enjoy quiet when I can. I have not had much quiet in my life at all, and the second they wake up, against their and my will… I listen to their existence every second I am present, not in a resenting way, actually quietly I sit and marvel at the people who surround me now, because I appreciate so much hearing voices other than my own incessant talking in my own head, or against my will at loud to myself. I am so happy to be around people who are not me, because as much as I sound like I am in love with myself, this is a defense mechanism. I am deeply insecure. I hate everything about me, because I am a cruel, uncaring person. I want to be better, but I have been like this so long, it takes time for me to learn to not be.
I loved getting away from reality so much I devoted my whole life to the worship of the idol toys of a man insane, substances have been my best friend along with my own self in female form. I have existed for so long talking only to me or the other me, on street corners where I am either shouting, crying or laughing in lunacy with lack of regard for those around me. I did this because I was in pain from pain I was unknowingly causing myself. I was drinking/using to forget drinking using to forget what I had to do to get drugs and alcohol to forget, drinking using to forget. I am a horrible human being, no really I am, but I am in the process of trying to turn that around now.
I think I am in the process of finally clearing a long term MRSA infection from my body that cost me three finger tips. Most notably half of my thumb on my right hand, which was a ***** because that one was my fault entirely. I refused to go to the hospital because I was enjoying getting high.. I have been an idiot most of my life. I thought I could clear it on my own by using bleach and peroxide, which I used to literally seer a hole into my scalp through which you could see my skull, no lie. I am insane, in my defense… I was very high for all of this, and had no idea that I was literally digging a hole in my head with a pair of pliers.
I am just happy I am not insane today, the further I get away from meth and heroin/crack/acid/booze/painkillers/cocaine the better. I am tired of spending hours trying to kill myself slowly.
You can’t tell I did that, looking at me, because obviously, that matters narcissistic ***.
I don’t know why I felt I needed to share this.
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.
No matter what I did she would not go away,
I would taunt and have fits, and run and I’d cry and by my side she always would stay.
This used to really annoy me.
I would think to myself that she would surely,
Leave eventually so I gave up on the idea of woman go
And now I don’t like life without her.
I am able to bring myself to eat without having to go through the chaos spiral of self-loathing that has powered my relationship with food. I have always, up until now I mean preferred the taste of bitter or flavorless mind-numbing soul staining poison. I think this is because of how much I used to hate myself. I am so glad, to realize how much of cycle of horror this whole thing. I really had no idea that I was drinking/using to forget what I did to drink and use to forget.
I don’t think my wife feels the same about herself, because she was just a silent passenger, and doing what she had to in order to stay well. I was the one behind all the ****. I know this now. I didn’t know it before, I remember telling her I would stop if she did, thinking she wouldn’t notice my absence or my perpetual love of long sleeves.
It sort of feels like this is the first time I have ever been a human being in my entire chaotic life, and I know I have said it before, but a lot of that comes from the interaction on here. I have never been treated so kindly in my entire life by strangers. I hate to say that my family had always been there, but they had, me and Amanda are the same person, just in two separate universes for the moment, getting closer to being the same one though, every day.
Do I make you think of stop and go, baby, do I make you feel like you are few
You are doing okay, okay.
You are new at this, fire kissed
Soul of gaping healing hole
I don’t know what I am doing I am so tired of making stew
I know I am you
Is that how this works
Yes, you are doing good at not being a
JERK You may snap at people but they know it means nothing
Just say you are sorry and move on
That’s okay it goes on? I don’t think that is true
Yes it is I am telling you
I lost my train of thought I am derailed un sailed a life of GARBAGE PAIL I am metal kettle tea tea tea does it does taste like
If I tell you over and over I am fine you are in a jar and you can’t hurt me so warning warning I am fine, I am fine I am fine.
Trigger Warning: MA EXPLICIT CONTENT Some material may not be suitable for sensitive audience: Schizophrenic/alcoholic addict, my trigger warning is my superstition that you cannot yell at me if I write this, do not judge me I am fine.
Anything with t’s makes me think of stitching, which makes me think of sowing needles which makes me think of holes in places that drain pain in red rain from dark places that scream in red and I am dead in my head, I dance in a roller coaster car that feels like heroin, heroic plunging into chaos, and that feeling of rush that comes just before a wave smacks into my head and almost breaks my
Chicken running without head because sorry honey, I desire sometimes to be dead, romancing the second that I see the blood go in a casing of soul that is needle drowning me hole, I write this down in psychotic fixation as a meditation
I JUST WANT DRUGS?
If it’s mediated by the dark screen is it mean to say that I will always be this there is no changing me there is no progress here I am the existence of fear there is no setting sun and sorry honey it’s no fun for me either because it never really ends I dismiss all my friends because I only want
Please forgive me because I know not what I do
I am not like you
I am a drug addict liar
I am a pill buying eye spying act of
Liar liar liar
Circles of fire, if I desire anything I must write it down because then you see
CLEARLY I CAN’T DO
What is spoken to you can I?
I can, I can do anything I want. I am an insane taunt.
I am never learning always haunting
But I think this admission means something
I think somehow you can see me?
I think you can hear me screaming right now, Like you are in my
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE STOP LOOKING AT ME TYPING I am writing this because you can hear everything I think and somehow this stops you, whoever you are
YOU CLEARLY ARE A LIAR
Stop screaming.. stop screaming stop screaming, they can see me, they are not here. they are no one
I am alone in my house, in my motel, in hell but something tells me I am not and that if I write all this down it is somehow more okay
Is it okay?
Stitches in the super madness of super stitching i o u
You are insane, Damien
I am not even real and I wrote it down
SO I CAN
NOT FEEL IT ANYMORE.
I’m fine now.
I am going to just write and see what happens
I stab at my chest, in grave unrest, not with needles or knife but with address
a dress of grave site undressed by a dress. I am not stressed, or un-rested. I am just disconnected but I am fine. I am fine I am mine. I am connected to nothing. You cannot touch me. I am floating. I am nothing
Forever away, forever away.
Get the **** away from me
starry night of stabbing madness. I am touching everything and nothing
and I can’t spell anything right write write right
My hands don’t work. I have no clear thoughts
addict to pain
I am darkness
I am light
I am schizophrenic after thought of bite
I hate myself I hate you.
I am the moon.
To the bluster of the ever rusted madman of the night, to the wet feather dust
Rain. Rain. Reign of blustering pain.
Blustery day, blustering decay, I love you, I know not I do.
Oh so free, are you, you know not what you do?
ISN’T THAT TRUE ISN’T IT TELL ME KNOW LIAR HOW YOU PLAY WITH FIRE THIEF OF **** BENT OVER IN DOUBLING PAIN YOU ARE THE HUMAN STAIN
erase erase erase, delete, delete delete
me me me i i i i i me me me
Be be be be be
Be asserting be strong be free
I ONLY WANT YOU TO SEE ME!!!!
YOU ARE A LIAR AND A THIEF YOU ARE NOT HUMAN AND FROM BENEATH
you are really mean please leave me alone please leave me alone
I need you to leave me alone!!
On a bluster filled day, I DECAY.
I can’t make them go away, I can just type them down, you see ever so clearly, they are in front of me and that makes them foolish instead of
JARRING JARRING SOUL IN JAR
I can talk to you to, but chose this, this approach, a kind host of a dissing ease, seems to please you to the point of end of
I made friends with foxes because we used to pray the same way in the same holes, not the same way, I am a human being who cannot speak animal neigh
I am a lunatic who stares at the moon and dreams of clear streams that are for swimming not fire and speed. I am the lack of blood on arms that were charmed enough to live not charmed but gifted by the lifting of chosen curse or eating dirt, because child heart I am also arrogant as Hell. I aim to tell you things because I like to talk because I am a narcissist who made a choice that if I am addicted to my own voice, why not at least say something good?
Owl City-“Shooting Star”
Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light
'Cause it's time for you to shine
Brighter than a shooting star
So shine no matter where you are tonight
Instead lies for crying eyes who hand me DRUGS, I am stronger than street thugs, but weaker too, a lot of them sell drugs to feed families, I shot heroin to commit calamities, acting out of complete insanity, I am vanity on a death terror ride, through illusion cycling through past for you, so you can see what I say and not go where I went and do what I did, because I don’t kid, I am kid who got saved by my creator, I am a pained footed waiter, not a metaphor an admission. I am just one suffering addiction speaking divine inspired truth that is inspired by God.He saved me.
I do not want to preach or teach, just simply save lives, by screaming the whole jails institutions death thing is real
and I feel un-punctuated and so elated by getting to tell you this.
Do not take death’s kiss people love you, please stay, if you listen to any of my psycho ego babble, I am playing scrabble with apples with words for you. I want you to know wherever you go, whatever you do, just say no to drugs, I want much more for you, because I love you and don’t even know you. Imagine how those who know you feel.
Love yourself. We recover.
Narcissism at its finest woo! Now I get to feel like **** for a bit as a punishment for vanity.
I am an idiot.
I am also insane-ly
Shut up, ****
Good at self-pity isn’t it pretty?
I am the flowing go of white snow.
I feel like I am going to throw up and thinking about drugs makes it worse so I do it more?
Mental illness at it’s finest
I guess… fine with me because it has to be I guess..
Or it is so it is.
On a side note, does anyone find it slightly disturbing that a plane has an area called cockpit?
I am listening to the news and just realized the horror in that phrase.
I like this song and boxes are cool..
That was easy.
I am kind of more awake now, see clearly, I am not addicted to caffeine. I need nothing but myself.
I need a cup of coffee. This sucks…
I need to learn to use the ****ing
I hate being a pathetic loser.
I don’t want to break the stupid thing.
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….
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……..
this is just stupid now.
Playing a video game with pain is fun, shooting through life like bullet in gun, but flying not to kill but to heal, to make aware of weakness in heel. I am Achilles with whole body shield. I am the weakness of addiction revealed.
Do you experience restrain from flushing your life down the drain?
Yes, pain miser I do. I am oh so very cute. I am a rabbit suit worn to store in December, I am the kindergarten defender.
That shouts hey! I will stay in these flowers and play play play
Invisible friends are schizophrenics with gifts.
I am a mind shift from the idea that I am sick to the idea that I am spirit guide.
I am the one who provides hope to “un-curable” disease with ease of joy, not easy but possible by medicating with love and care, provided by doctor but also by air, and life and love and hugs.
I am please be forever happy, you are me. You are you. Love everything you do. I am just like you. I need you too. Don’t go away, please stay.
We need you.
Don’t give up. I know it’s tough. I hope this helps.
I am an ear, if you need me.
I am an I with eyes that see clearly
in rays of light that write of love of Rei but also stay
And know that you can have this too.
I love you.
Love you too.
Damien and Amanda
I keep looking down at my stupid hands again. I am terrified I am going to spread the stupid infection throughout my body, even though I am on the gut wrenching medication. I think if nothing else at least it… never mind.. that was insanely unhealthy…
I am psyched my daughter can telepathically communicate with me, I always responded badly to psychoactive substances, and kind of knew she would do them at that party.
You suck, dad.
I figure you had to learn the hard way.
It’s almost over, I can feel it wearing off.
See, told you so, the key is don’t panic, and even if you do they have ways to fix you after you flip out. Everything is going to be okay, and don’t worry your mom can’t do this, so it is safe with me. You can tell her if you want. I don’t want to get in trouble myself.
You’re doing okay, I hope this still works.
It does, I can still hear you. I am going through the same apology process as you here.
What did you do? I thought you were doing better than me.
I threw a rock through the window of this car, I had to pay the guy to not saying anything.
Was he cool about it otherwise?
Yeah. He said he could pay his friend to fix it.
I think he only was cool about it because I was honest. Weird huh?
Yeah, it’s strange, sometimes I wonder how many lies I told for no reason, and how many times I got busted and could have saved myself by just being honest.
I like you. You are getting there. You’re sort of on the same page now.
I know you do, I gave it to you.
It mine to begin with.
That’s not nice. It was ours to begin with, and you just wanted to use me as a scapegoat for everything and as an enforcer to get free *(%$ from people.
Oops? That’s all I get is oops? Screw you.
Yes. I deserve more than an oops…
No don’t do that… I really do deserve more than an oops.
I just tricked you into learning about forgiving yourself.
I was just reminded by myself or by my friend
Or, both, silly
I have a name, woo!
That he told me he was leaving the life I was living before because he was done with it before me.
I was going to say thank you….
I was just being a jerk. I don’t like thank you’s. They make me feel weird, for some reason I am used to large amounts of negativity….
I want to thank you for saying you would leave me there, even though I don’t know what I mean by that.
It means you would have lost your mind.
Because of missing you.
No silly, because I am your mind.
I am my own mind too.
Yeah because we are the same person.
I was convinced for a second that someone was watching my house, because it felt like there was someone watching my house.
Was it you?
I woke up from a compulsion to check to see if someone was going to attack my family the middle of the night. This is Amanda by the way, and I am saying that to myself more than anything so I don’t bounce in and out of multi-dimensional con·scious·ness.
Hey, Amanda did you think it was funny, how that was defined as
the state of being awake and aware of one’s surroundings
the awareness or perception of something by a person.
the fact of awareness by the mind of itself and the world. (dictionary.com)
Is it just me and my insanity or does that definition not seem right? Or am I looking for a philosophical definition not available on dictionary.com
I am bored. Moving on.
Now, Amanda is starting to sound like me. So we are going to start using names as place holders so she can keep track of her own thoughts.
That sounds like a good idea, a$%^&*%.
That is not my name.
I am not saying your name.
One of us.
Okay, Damien. One of us.
I think your mom likes me better than you.
I think my mom knows I am you. So how’s you’re life?
No disdain that time, wow. Less of an %^$%*&^. I fell asleep on the ground in front of the computer, and then woke up and went into the room with Rei and she told me to come check on you and now we are here.
She told you to talk to me, sweet she doesn’t resent me anymore.
I know isn’t it great. Now I don’t have to lie about who I am talking to on the internet.
You never had to lie about who you were talking to on the internet.
Not everyone does it Amanda style, Meh meh.. this is my house and you can get out if you don’t like it. You know Kim doesn’t talk to her because you kicked her out on New Years Eve and she had to sleep in Ryan’s car.
Better, then sleeping in my house, Damien.
I would have drank all night and yelled at her.
Isn’t that what you did anyway?
Yeah, but when she was in Ryan’s car at least the cops came and threatened to drunk tank me and I had to stop.
You are such an &**)$%^.
Because I think it is bad for my daughter’s self-esteem.
True. What about your self-esteem?
Are you seriously asking if my self esteem is completely image based? I am good at lots of things.
So I guess your self-esteem is good.
I hold myself in very high esteem.
You must have very strong arms.
To hold yourself all the time.
I was talking about your ego.
I known and still screw you. I am trying…
Anything cool happen today?
I talked online to a jerk and my daughter made some cool paintings, and I didn’t kill my neighbor, even though he has it coming and better watch out because I am going to throw that garbage can through his car window.
Is this the same guy?
I have no idea.
What did this one do?
Look at me wrong at 5 am. I didn’t like his weird eye contact. He seemed like he knew something he shouldn’t know.
Like that I am squatting in a motel and am not named Amanda, because it’s your credit card I am using.
So that is why my credit is ruined…,
Your credit is ruined because you spent 20,000 on drugs.
Your credit is ruined because you spent 20,000 on drugs.
It was your money, not mine and you let me.
The dissing ease of nar·cis·sism.
You still can’t spell that?
No because it’s not a real thing, and don’t talk to me right now, I am trying really hard to convince myself that cat’s aren’t allergic to Chinese food.
You aren’t a cat anymore.
I know which is all the more reason I don’t want to look like an idiot.
I like how you look.
Of course you do…. I’m just you as a guy.
Me as a fatter guy.
Jerk. Not nice, and not true.
I know. I like the way you look.
Gross, I am you.
Self-love is not gross.
That’s not the same thing.
So what does Rei think of you recently.
She thinks I have a nice &^*.
I used to kill your enemies by torturing them to death.
Oh, yeah right. So you’re not mean.
No just a psychotic jerk.
I am your best friend, not a psychotic jerk.
We’re both psychotic jerks.
Okay? That’s it.
Do you know how dangerous it is to light off fireworks while playing with sparklers while poking a bull in the eye that you painted pink after dosing it with sedative and draping flowers over the horns with a snake on your hand?
Neither do I.
But, I wonder what it would be like to do that sometimes.
It sounds like a good way to kill yourself.
It does doesn’t it?
Excellent newspaper headline because it would be really long and the editor would not know what to do.
They would just be like this is so oddly specific who would do this?
You would do that.
No I wouldn’t. Because I haven’t, and if I did I wouldn’t tell anyone about it before I did it.
You would tell them after you did it?
So you already did it?
So now you can’t do it.
Yeah, I was telling on myself. I was thinking about doing it today.
Do you have all the things you need to do it.
None of them, that’s why I put it on here instead.
If you didn’t put it on here you would have to do it?
What if you couldn’t find the things.
That’s why it is on here.
It was for doing drugs not for looking at myself.
That’s better or worse?
I think it would be better if it was for drugs, than for looking at myself.
Because I don’t like how it looks if I say it is for looking at myself, and I don’t care how it looks if it is for drugs because I don’t do them anymore and then the whole post makes it sound like I am doing awesome and not thinking about how I broke something by sitting on it.
But, it’s funny, which is why I said it.
Everything you say is funny.
Murdering women is funny?
Sit on it.
Now you can’t your mirror to see clearly.
I never did. I used it to do drugs, that blurred my vision.
And to see if there were people behind you.
That was you.
You don’t have two reflections.
Yes, I do.
Why would you want your site to be ugly?
Because I don’t want them to tell me to create a beautiful one because I don’t want to do what they say,
So you want to create an ugly site so you can do the opposite just so you are doing the opposite of what they say.
Then good you already have an ugly site.
I think it is beautiful.
Then you can thank wordpress for that.
No I did it, and I am the only one who thinks its beautiful, and I am the only one who is right.
I give up.
Oh and 500 things.
Amanda is really learning to stand up for herself, and face fear instead of being a tool of resentment, used to reek havoc of the souls of the weak. At least you are learning before becoming like me.
I like you.
So do I, so don’t stroke his ego. It is not helpful.
I know, I just don’t realize when I am doing it sometimes.
I know, I like that about you.
I am working on it Rei.
I can see that, because he doesn’t feel the need to seek you out through soul wrenching emotional fracture and live forever in the misery of addiction when you could both find seperate….
We are the same person
We are the same person
I know. Well… I misspoke.
The cat woke me up. It does this high pitched yowling, I just had to get up an start whisper hissing at it. I don’t know why I felt more crazy whispering at a cat then I do rocking back and forth like a lunatic and talking to myself while typing you. I think I might be falling in love with Diane. I know I have only know her a how long has it been? I don’t know. She is nice to me. I don’t find that many people that are nice to me. I am an asshole and a psycho.
I like Diane in a different way than I loved Rei, and the more that I think about the whole thing, I don’t know whether what… I was just taking my watch off.. don’t know why I am telling you this.. I can feel the cat staring at me, can humans hear cats speaking? Cat’s don’t speak. I feel like I can still hear the yowling. That is just a memory.
This is fun sometimes. It is like I am casting my words out of my demented head, and it feels like I am not alone with myself anymore, that was the most terrifying thing in the entire world… sorry just had to chase the fucking cat… I give up.
I just thought of my name which made me think of that movie… with the kid with my name… and now I have the song in my head…. and I am afraid to go back to sleep. Great.
We have met others who do what we do, I am studying it as a phenomenon now, they have some sort of ability that involves the manipulation of human beings and the universe. They are all addicts, and I do not know if that is that stupid you associate with those like you crap, or if they are like us because there is something about being an addict that causes us to be able to do this. I feel like I have mentioned this before, but I do not know for sure, because admittedly my memory sucks, and I do not like to admit I have any weakness at all.
I have a hard time making assessments of the reality of what I see because of this, I, in my admitted arrogance, believed and still believe in my ability to manipulate space and time with my hands, that is one of the reasons I take life, aside from being prone to lashing out in fits of rage. I am embarrassed even writing this to you, my unknown observer. I do not like being the kind of person who talks to people, and wonder sometimes if that means I do not like being a human being. I sometimes doubt even that, that I am human at all.
I do not know what that means… I do not know what it means to not believe in my own human body. I guess it just means that I am everything they always said I was, and that for some reason in my wretched existence, I am pathetic enough to not… I am going to stop… I can’t stand hearing myself talk, even if it is out loud while typing to you or sometimes in the ranting chaos that is my own mind.
We are standing next to each other, but in the coldness of night… I can feel our separateness. I can feel that we are merely parts in a universe of pieces, and for a second I panic, knowing that the only thing that connects me to him are threads that are unreal. I have no invisible tether which ties me to this man. I am truly alone, and that frightens me, and I hope, as horrible as it is to say… he is frightened too. I look at him and realize he is crying. I heard him coughing or what I thought is coughing. I walk away slowly, and he starts to say something, but stops and I pretend not to hear.
“I wish….”, echoes into the dark night from his lips, as I walk away. I do not know what he wishes, and I will not find out if he was talking to me. We have an unspoken, understanding that I am not to see his moments of weakness. I simply pretend that he does not have them. We never speak about them.
He comes back over to me, but does not make eye contact with me. His downcast gaze, passes over the ground, painting it with the red stare that he casts on the day walkers. He looks as though he is trying to cast himself off the earth, and there is a part of me that wishes that he could, to end his pain. I do not know what it is about, and dare not ask.
You are the brief release of the crashing confines of my mind.
The walls of chaotic sameness, that smash into my skin, suffocate the entirety of my being, I never feel as free, as I do with you my radiating yellow sun. I have no out other than you. I am nothing…..
I am dust, ghost, chasing vapors, catching of light, I am a spoon full of nothing but death, and long for the breath of you, one who brings life. I love you, so please, please bare with me. I am fine. We will be fine. I will eventually…. do nothing other than what I currently do.
I will hopefully, I hate… myself.
Under the bridges of cities, in the untraveled areas of towns in the darkness of night there is a meeting of sameness, a meeting of men with decaying souls who exist in the bright lights of lonely day silently screaming in acts that scream with hands that kill. They act with howling violence on the streets which are the same in a painted grey, black and white. In the stars is painted the story of atrocity that exists in the heart of every city of human being with humanity.
We were staying under a bridge. He kept talking about the music, and I won’t lie I heard it too. The chaotic piecing together of the sounds of the city, clicking and beeping and screaming. He says it sounds beautiful. It is a symphony of insanity. He says it plays so loud sometimes that he can’t hear people. I wonder if that is why he can’t hear them screaming, I can. I am unsure if I like it or hate it.
“What the fuck?!”
He came up behind me.
“Who are you talking to?” He looks at me, his eyes hot with contempt but his mouth cast to the ground. I do not know what his problem is.
“I wasn’t talking to anyone….” I look him in the eyes at first with anger, thinking the question was an accusation, and then wondering if I was even talking at all. I might have been, I do not know.
“Come on, I have to see a man about something,” I follow without asking any questions.