Toxic thoughts

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I am a tile on the floor of time, I spent my life on pursuit of dime in bag, not diamond bag.

I know, I am having issues, I think it is just what my brain does.

Having a hard time being alone?

Yeah, kinda.

I am too.

Is that why you are talking to yourself on a dark screen?

***hole.

What?

Isn’t that what you are doing?

Yeah..

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.

Wow. Facts.

I fly through lack of light.

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 am green, I am painted, I am tainted, by reflected light.

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.

I am an adult child

I think it is hilarious that every time she leaves, she asks me if I am going to flip the **** out and hallucinate some insane thing and ruin her life, while also simultaneously destroying my own. I am saying this now, because I realized it is actually funny, and not a reason for me to hate her or myself.

Are you afraid of the boogeyman, and will you be okay while I leave?

I am an adult, yes.

What about all the other times?

****

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.

Because the kids I played football with would say I throw like a girl, and after being the **** out of them, I would wish I could take this the way they did, just another insult, not something that ate at my soul, because I am a good passer. And I don’t throw like a ****ing girl.

Those times, I would go into my room and talk to a horse, that I had, it was this Arabian Horse model, and it would talk back to me, and sometimes, it would transform into a person who kind of looked like me, but different. My dad always thought I was talking to the devil, but I was actually talking to the devil back words, that was on purpose,

Got it, Damien.

Yeah, lived- devil- funny right?

https://fivedotoh.com/2023/03/29/fowc-with-fandango-fallacy/

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…

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.

From Me,

Misery’s slave

I said kill me baby, would you please? I am on my freakin’ knees, begging honey would you dare, let me touch your pretty hair? I love you baby, don’t you know, do you really have to go? I want you badly, miss you greatly, have been thinking of you lately, so I say honey please answer me, I miss you so, won’t you please, please, please,

PICK UP THE PHONE

Don’t leave me here alone, I am sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I thunk, I don’t know what I said, I was silly, soul so dead, please call me back back back

My soul I attack attack attack, tell me what I said, to make your eyes, oh so read, please please please.

I will stop drinking **** it. I swear I am done. This isn’t fun anymore.

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/128784227/posts/81586

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.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1838

How does death change your perspective?

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.

https://bluebonnetprompts.wordpress.com/2022/08/21/177/#jp-carousel-180

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.

Trigger Warning- Paranoid Schizophrenic quarrel with myself about how I hate myself. May be disturbing.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/27/your-daily-word-prompt-Quarrel-ydwordprompt-March-27-2023/

Quarrel

I have a query, ever so leery, because I know the answer.

I HATE MY SELF.

FIGHT ME

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….

Any minute…

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…

Worry…

Please…

I can’t feel…

My.. knees…

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.

Oh.

Thank you.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/03/25/weekend-writing-prompt-304-mail/

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 stand up and go behind the restaurant.

There is a blanket on a broken chair.

How convenient.

Daily writing prompt

What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

View all responses

Around my eyes, not on my eyes, because it is the closest I can get to altering my face, without doing the whole plastic surgery thing. I hate my face.

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/127881943/posts/71926

Explanation: You were not real, I talked to you on here, because you could have been real. I wanted to experience what it would have been like if you were, but it turned out to be awful, because you linked me back to that ****.

I hate that ****, or Rei as I was calling him/her on here. I used that name for that **** because I am afraid of him/her.

____________________________________________________________________________

Inner Dialogue:

They tell me, I will begin to know a new freedom and new happiness, in something I simply thought meant, “Hey, ****-up you can’t drink or get high anymore, because you weren’t good at it.

I am realizing as I get further away from the whole thing, that it is not a good thing to be good at getting ****ed up anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________

I did not know Joy, or my imaginary daughter who is depicted in the past of archives of this blog. I wrote about her, because I was still in love with my ex- who I called Rei on here, even though that is not their name, because I had not realized that I am trans. I was a girl at birth by the way. I identify as Damien. Rei is my ex boyfriend who identified as a girl.

________________________________________________________

I wish I knew what was going to happen to me, because it would make the whole sobriety thing so much easier, but that makes not sense because that is the opposite of what this is supposed to be about…

They say I will know a new freedom and new happiness or Joy if I do this… but I don’t know… I don’t even know myself.

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

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 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..

What makes you most anxious?

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 am such a ****.

My life is a long episode of Jerry Springer.

************************************************************************

I heard that one in my head, and it made me….

Throw up?

No, that was because your stomach is ****ed!

Yeah, because VODKA SUCKS!
Good one.

Clearly.

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.

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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.

With me.

I hate you.

I hate you. I hate you.

Love yourself, dude.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

I am so sorry.

Love yourself.

Please stop.

Okay, I am done.

I feel better.

I am done.

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?

What activities do you lose yourself in?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful as we choose to make it.”

Richard Dawkins, The god Delusion

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.

Damien

It was this guy ranting about how prison doesn’t sound that bad

1. Free food
2. Free TV
3. Free tablets
4. Free internet
5. 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.

I am so happy to not have to pretend to be someone else anymore, I used to even change my voice, so it sounded more pleasing to other people, manipulation at its finest? I have a very aggressive sounding voice, and I always hated it. It is very freeing to be able to not have to do that anymore. I hated doing it without even realizing it. It is extreme enough that I can make myself sound like someone else on the phone, so my voice is not recognizable. I used to use it to get out of trouble. I did not realize how much of a liar I was, and how pervasive it was in every aspect of my life. The truth is really as freeing as they say it is.

I feel like I am a kid on summer vacation, but I am really just an addict in retirement from a life of…being an ***.

Damien

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.

Damien

“It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.” 

joseph conrad, heart of darkness

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.

Peace

Damien

I am man with knife that spreads jam on toast instead of man who jams in head the killing knife that was made for bread.

I am man who does not stab but cuts apart, an apple instead of human heart, I have realized with my eyes that see, coming out of insanity, that I do not have to be Amanda I can be free. I am released from human cage, a player now not just on page, I do not have to employ rage, I can instead say this I desire human bliss, I can give love, I can give kiss. I am not supposed to be anything but free to be me. I should have known this from the start but drugs and booze they sedated heart, so I used my name as excuse to die, a perpetual never ending cry out for

MORE MORE MORE

Make yourself a living sore on the heart of yours so that you can be, so safely chained to me, addiction, you see is my maker, my taker, my soul breaker.

I love you so, baby please don’t go. I need you so… I need you please, I am kneeling on bent KNEES
GET ON YOUR KNEES HONEY
MONEY MONEY MONEY
CASH CASH CASH PLEASE

I GET PAID WITH SOUL DISSECTION
I GET PAID WITH VIVISECTION
I BELIEVE IN RESURRECTION

Can it happen for me to, help me God, can you teach me to be more like you instead of Mary? I am sad and this is scary, common God please my soul fix?

It is already I told you this, this is Damien you fool, it’s you. You can do whatever you want to.

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.