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.
To have it all, to begin to know peace, not something I ever thought to be possible for me, to be at peace, to have it all, never thought I would be that tall.
To live by the sea, to see blue green, that is all I truly need, and by
Need, I mean, merely want, I am happy with anything really, I am just an I and an eye that experiences time, nothing more, nothing less, an observer of time, nothing divine, nothing more nor nothing less, just an addict with the ability to focus and re-address.
I am just a silly human being, beyond nothing, just what I seem. I do not want more than I need, to have it all is too much for me, I simply want to be happy, not to have more than I need.
Serenity, serenity, I barely know thee, but it is time I see, clearly, that you can exist outside of me.
I am a gold owl, my name is Surrender, I am a short form of creation of re-rendor. I am made with sunlight, that my creator and creator imbue, I am the act of time spent not on overdue.
I am surrender, to my creator and creator’s higher power, I am not a time consumed creator of tower. I do not over consume, or exist to time devour, but merely to say, my creator no longer cowers.
Thank you for clicking, I appreciate your existence, I am a puffin, I fly away with quickness.
My creator and creator, appreciates your acceptance.
I am a puffin, my name is Good Enough.
My creator isn’t lazy, but there are times they are stuck, on what to write here, and on what to say, there are times when the sunshine, calls them away.
In those times, they think of nature, and sitting outside, so much like me they are not stuck or hiding, they are just so alive.
I am a puffin, I am so alive,
I am Good Enough, which is something that jives, with my creator and creators ideas, and what they believe to be true, I was placed on this page, to say, dear reader, my love for you is true.
She came at sunrise, she came with light’s dance, she came at sunrise, and stole my friends pants, they were laid out, on her bed, we did not know, she came at sunrise, in her house we did not know,
It belonged to her. She was kind and forgiving, forgave our unexpected visit, when she came we thought,
“Well, this is it,”
She told us it was okay, that we broke into her house, when all I was thinking, was
Well, this sure went south…
She made us breakfast, and touched my face, it was covered with dust and dirt, which a bath could erase.
She was on a vacation, an act I don’t know, she gave us shelter, from the rain and the cold.
Though I am small, on closer look, I am off the hook, I have everything I need, from the air to breathe, a planted seed, which brings forth my life, and the nutrients in the ground, brought by beings of sound mind.
I am a plant, and used to live in a garden, with my friends, I was placed one day, when they ripped me out, in a bulb, without any roots, a bulb, that was not one that grows, but instead of those for lamps.
I do not know, how or why, just fear that one day I may die, there is not rain or sun in here, so I know one thing, quite clear, I depend on those around, those in the realm that uses sound.
They cannot hear me because I can’t scream, so I hope, and sometimes dream in waves, I hope they get me the water and light I crave.
I then discover it comes right through, and that they know what they do, the soil here, has nutrients, too.
There once was a girl, who loved beautiful flowers, she would stare at them for hours and hours, she would wish she could be like them, fragrant, and joyous, like her name suggested. She always felt that her name was a lie, sometimes so much that it made her very sad, or even cry. She wished to a rose, or a being with anything but toes, a sea lion, a fish, not her, so sad and craving anything, but this, she wished for the bliss of the sun, her life had never been very fun, but she felt obliged to stay, not to take away the happiness of those around her.
She prayed every day, for something to give her a little bit of contentment, or even content to her life, that felt so riddled with questions and with strife. One day a voice, way up high, almost seeming to come from the sky, directed her brown eyes, to the flowers she loved so much, and she decided to begin to alter them in photographs from other people, that inspired her so, she altered the flowers, putting more light in them, thinking herself a painter with the paint brush of the stars, she put the love of a higher power in the things that made her smile.
There is a land, with no seems or seams, or strings attached to my heart or mind, and I am getting there slowly, very slowly, to a place of lack of attachment, where anything can happen.
In this land, I see you, whoever you are, wanderer, or maybe multiple people, who are doing multiple things, with many people, you exist as an externalization of my imagination, in a world of projection, without the protection of want or desire.
You are the idea, not person, not specific to one person or notion, that anything can happen.
She spoke to me kindly, she spoke to me greatly, not with great understanding, but with great power, power with words and power over me, through my inability to understand her, and ability to panic over things beyond my understanding.
Belinda, Belinda, you were so great, so great
That my arrogance deprived us of the ability to relate, such a tragic shame, and I am only to blame.
In the projected future, there is someone I miss right now, and I don’t know how I miss them, but I do. I dream of you, and like I said, I don’t know how.
You are not know to me, not right now.
You are made of star dust, you are in my dreams.
You are protected by time, or so it seems, because I am supposedf to be alone right now, and so are you, and I don’t know why, or maybe I do.
There is something a higher force is teaching me right now, and I imagine it is the same and also seperate for you, and I imagine the next time I am with someone or maybe the thousandth I don’t know, it will be different.
Her name was Odessa, such a beautiful queen, she came to me in California, and saved my life with a dream, she told me she valued me for what she did see, she did not see me as the dread Rei Clearly saw me, she saw what I was, I started to cry, she told me fear not, need not live a lie.
She told me she loved me, though me she did not know, she touched my hand, and kindness, she began to show, she said a prayer for me, and took all my worry, the pain in my eyes, the pain made eyes blurry.
She cried for me, and kissed my tired hands, and is one of the people who gave me strength to stand, on my two feet, though I really have four, she made me feel like a human, not a dead bleeding sore.
I don’t know anything about you, but for the first time in a long time, my mind was not called to a negative place when looking at an image of someone.
I have no idea what that means, so I painted flowers about it, painted them with lack of color, lack not indicating sadness or some place of chaotic meditation, but lack because anything palled in comparison to the peaceful expression on your face.
I left some of them with color, not wanting to rob you of your falling sunshine, in your world of far away silent photo, laying in objection to the stealing of the colors of your beautiful world of vibrance.
They are painted differently as an indication of notice, of a watcher from a world of lack of anything but shades of black, grey, and white. They begin to fall away like ash, blown by winds of change, from the breath of fresh air that flows into the stiffling hot hell that is my volcanic existence of nothing.
Access to running water
Safe place to sleep
Waking up to seeing my family
Access to coffee, nicotine, and food
In a tunnel in California, I am reminded of my friend, who had traveled the world, and given everything to a woman, who wasted it all before wasting away herself.
She was addicted to heroin, ironic because she was his heroine herself, dying tragically of cancer, while he paid to ease her suffering, not caring that she was spending all of his money, he only cared that he was doing whatever she asked.
I saw so much suffering out there, so much pain, I was so used to it, it is still hard to see anything else. I look for it even now, as I write this to you, but I am starting to open my eyes, and be able to see clearly, they have been shut a long time….
Beauty is right in front of me, and has been the whole time
It flies in the skies above my head, without me even noticing, but today I do.
I don’t see you, but I hear you, and I am sorry for every moment, I was too high to hear you sing.
You are everything.
I have been many places, where the roar of trucks or screaming of road sleepers overpowers nature.
Sitting in my mother’s basement, thinking about my failures, and I am comforted by a chorus of birds.
It is almost like they are saying it is okay,
That I survived to hear them, to hear them peacefully singing,
Just because they can and do, without anyone noticing, but today I do, and even though they can’t hear me…
I have chased myself around this house, all around, up and down
Up and down and
In and out
Of this house
With a doubt
In perpetual doubt.
I am vastly incompetant.
I am light
I am not light but the perpetual ing
I not God.
I am not lightning
Not divine, just human being running all the time towards realization
I am not God, just sad human being, that had an addiction to power, and lived in chaos, finding peace in letting go of reigns and watching the rain with peace.
To the author, this is a taste of your own medicine.
I am talking to myself.
I am aggressive because I am afraid of myself. I
Fear imperfection because I am in love myself
I am a narcissistic
Per so n on s h elf
The troll lives outside, and is invisible. It is not me this time.
It lurks in everything, in potentiality, for always and forever.
It really sounds like you.
Shut up and go with me.
It is under anything that causes
Stop that now.
I now you have a thing about the number three, and you are not divine, so stop it.
There is someone there, who has bad intentions, because they are simply there, and everyone has bad intentions.
There is someone there, and I don’t like them, because they have bad intentions, because everyone has bad intentions.
I am afraid of myself.
I am afraid of being back in padded rooms, which I have been in before.
I am afraid that whenever you help me, it is one step away from the constraints on my arms to help myself.
Control myself, accept the things I can’t change…
I ruined my own life, and I am trying to fix it, and people are trying to help me, stop ripping their heads off with words.
I think everyone is out to get me, because I am an idiot, or that is what it feels like sometimes… both of those things alternating not simultaneous, never simultaneous, unfortunately…. not yet at least. I can never remember when under insane delusion, that I am prone to insane delusions and that as much as it seems like people are out to get me…. just realized why my ex’s hated that wording… they are not out to get me..
That kind of sucks.. because now I have to admit I was ***hole fighting the universe my whole life. I did the right thing and apologized, and it was very humiliating.
Moreso than most of mine, because they exist not in decline or make mine or eternal infernal bind with fight for time or dime, but instead resign or it is fine that it is not mine, but instead divine.
I am free to live, and give to those I encounter, the thoughts of the previous fist pounder, not the fist pounder, but the fist giver, the pain bringing angry addict of silver tongue, that was never fun to be around for anyone.
Even me, begining in an unconventional way, because I was wrong, and
You were right, and I will no longer fight, because you helped bring me flexible peace. Peices of reflective stained glass of my own re-cast soul, drawn out of hole, and thrown to the sky.
I am so happy, that no matter how much back tracking my mind does, that the internal panic thing is cured eventually by something that is not selfish. It is giving me such a level of inner peace, to realize that my life is not condemned forever.
I am thinking about this now, because this is the part of the night that is dominated by fear, which still to a large degree dominates it, but not as badly, because I keep coming back to the fact that none of this is in my hands anymore.
I love that now actually. It’s funny, I used to hate that idea, and now it is such a relief to not have to fight everything in the universe. I had been doing it all my life, feeling like I was up against God and the world, and I was really just fighting to keep my addictions, it can have them, no matter how much I whine and moan, and even miss them in my addict insanity, I am going to try my hardest to remember this peace.
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 used to run, not to chase, just for fun,
I used to fly, to take flight, not hide or chase, not to fight.
When I was not so mad, not so angry, not so crazy, not so sad.
The dark night ends, the darkness leaves, the dark ones get back to being undseized by quest to prove they have knees.
Running forward or side to side, not looking back, not seeking to find, just moving forward, forever free, providing by clarity.
It is impossible to go anywhere
Naked and bleeding, and being naked and bleeding is not fun.
Spending time screaming about being naked and bleeding is a waste of time, so it is better to quest for clothes than spend times screaming about being naked and bleeding.
The foolish, screamers, have been taking years screaming about being cold when they could have been finding new clothes.
It is no longer cold outside.
I used to scream and cry, a walking rant, a poke in the eye, but I have learned sometimes to shut my mouth, to prevent a life that is prone to running south. I say sometimes because I am back and forth.
Smoulder’s shoulder is cold, it is icy, knowledge old. It lives in darkness, illuminates lights, seeks to cool not to fight.
The act of smoulder is not death, in it’s ice are secrets kept.
A path winds through the night, going foward, existing simply, in a direction.
The traveler exists simply too, at night, happening to be there, under cover of darkness, arriving at this precise time, when it is dark.
In a quest for forward motion, the traveler at first curses the ground, damning it for being in its present place, at its present time,
Forgetting the word present
Forgetting the idea of presenting
Forgetting the gift of sight at all
Forgetting the gift of site at all
In this forgetting, the traveler does not see, but walks blind
Trips over a flashlight
Curses the ground
Sees the flashlight
Picks it up
Uses it and walks on.
Proposing something different.
Today, I am very simply just happy to be here. I am no longer looking back because I have said all I need to say about that, there remains nothing else that I could say about any of it.
The focus of this site going forward, will be a bit different, I do not know what that means yet.
Dark reflections on darkness bring darkness
Reflections rising from darkness bring truth.
What do I see differently, because of who I am now?
I don’t know yet.
I have done a lot of stupid things, in my life. I have listed them on here. This blog has been a whining meditation on what I believed to be me deserving better or something… I think… I realized last night that I am an idiot, and forgot the most important thing, I have survived a large amount of my own self-inflicted stupidity.
Thankful today, to be able to get up, and simply be alive.
I am not here to preach to anyone, I am not here to tell anyone what to believe, I am not even here to say what works for me could work for you. I am simply an idiot writing on the internet about what gives me the ability to sleep at night, which right now is the fact that I just had a pretty intense experience with my dad at stations of the cross, at his church.
I liked it because I have always had a thing about chanting, the intense power of people all saying the same thing at the same time, with each other, over and over, especially if it was something that had been done over and over at the same time, each year. I think the power of the human word when spoken together, all at once is very moving.
I really enjoyed it, and my dad seemed very happy his drug addict child was at mass with him rather than doing drugs in the streets.
That is all.
I am so grateful to be out of some of the pain that I was in before. I still have one more crown to get done, and am not even dreading it, but just so happy to be going forward not backward. Nothing has ever felt like this in my entire life.
I made peace with my family, my mother, my father, and my brother do not hate me anymore. I am no longer in need of using my metaphor for any of them, at the moment, may return to it in anger later. There are no promises with me, when it comes to speech or text. I am a very back forth person, but I am becoming alright with it, and myself, all two of me.
I am so thankful for everything that has made this level of peace possible in my life. I really had resigned myself to dying miserable, that was the reason for the original site name.
I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.
I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.
A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled
Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.
I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.
I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.
I am because I am really also you.
I know, because I am awesome.
I am awesome too.
I know, because we both are.
Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.
I was on a mission once, and now but not the same one. My mission before, was a stained one, of the undun spun heart of a dead girl, unfirled, unwhirled, spinning, in nothingness. I saved her, but she has moved on, and into a shared rent of a human body.
We are me, I am me, I am her, she is me, we are they. They is me. Amanda is dead, and I am her, and she is not me. I am sorry, but I don’t hate myself anymore, she wanted to go, she didn’t want this, and I do, she gave it to me. She was done, spun, spinning, spun, into a winding bind of gone for all time. She has retired, her soul was on fire, with remorse, so I took over, and now she is at peace, and at least, she can be a passenger now, I don’t know what this means.
I am no mission now, I just live as me, and her, but she, resentment is silent.
I am not in a place, nor do I think I ever will be, to make any far reaching recommendations, not because of anything about me, but because of how I individually feel. I am too back and forth of a person to feel any way about anything. I like yellow right now and tomorrow I may hate it.
So if I suggest something now, that same thing may make me angry tomorrow.
Tolerance and understanding of others right to be themselves without stepping on the toes of others is the only thing I could say will not change about my views. People would be happier if they would stick to their own lives.
The waves crush them under the force of resentment, and they don’t look back because if they did, they would see a lot of dust, in the tracks of things they left behind a long time ago.
Their dreams, their friends.
I speak for myself and myself only, but speak this way because there are multiple versions of me.
I am a cat. I am a cat. I am a cat. Feed me spare change, don’t feed me to an atm.
Or an at the moment feeling of homeless people shouldn’t have animals, what if I became homeless yesterday, what about my cat?
Doesn’t he get to live too?
Does he get to eat too?
Or does he get put in a cage?
I wonder wonder wonder why
No punctuation because I have something in my eye
I am a cat and I can’t wipe my eyes, I have claws and that would make me cry
I forgot what this post is about.
I am doubt. I am tout. I am clearly telling truth, I am a cat that is name Ruth, I am less, than human
I am Ruth Less than human.
I am a cat, I am a cat, I am a cat. I have rights and I am a cat.
I am where it is at. I am a cat. cat. cat. Feed me spare change. Sparing change. Change things for me, so I can smile again.
Where do you go when it’s dark?
Do you go to the land of the stark
And light stricken chaotic dimension of pain? Do you meditate on disdain?
Do you cry of the life lived in vain?
I did once too, I cried just like you. I walked with eyes shut, and mind off, and feigned cough and feigned gasp, with hands clasped around my tools of fixation and dilation.
I have found a way out.
There are people in the lands that are outside this hell.
We are people that have been were you are. We have felt your pain.
We are here to tell you, you do not have to walk alone any longer. We are here if you want to talk to us, and all we can do is share how we got to the other side of misery. Ask me anything and I will tell you.
The call of the siren, the echo of sirens, screaming at me, guilty addict, stay away, kept me from your shores for 7 years, I chased you from coast to coast, hoping to forgive myself along every shore line, sure line, finding only fault lines, and gradual reclining soul decline, which is not ironic, but iconic, me an icon of pain disdain, but no more.
I am a grain of sand, on a beach, that is no longer beseached, but fully colored, not in stark darkness, but with full color because I am is no longer what it is.
It is no longer, a place of soul eating madness for me, but now a place that has been resurrected as what I loved as a child, which I was, I remember that now, not just Amanda’s imaginary friend, but half of her, she is me and I am her, and she is me. I am half of her and she is half of me? The other half doesn’t have a name, neither of us is Amanda, so until it is figured out, I am her and she is me, but to differentiate, I call her Amanda.
I am so excited about literally what I just wrote up there, two root canals, not that I want them, but that they are root canals, and not two extractions. I thought I was going to have to have two teeth extracted, and I don’t care about how that would look, whatever about that. Change is good..
I am excited because I knew it would hurt and I knew that I am going to deny them giving me pain killers. I told the doctor I was an ex heroin addict to out myself on purpose, so they wouldn’t give them to me.
I am excited that I actually did the right thing about this. That’s all.
I spent an entire meeting, sitting and rocking back and forth, or talking to myself, or laughing out loud, because I am having a hard time not being on my meds, which I have not been on for 10 years… they are an anti-psychotic, which I subsituted with every drug imaginable, and every drink imaginable. I think I am finally feeling what it is like to be a paranoid schizophrenic on nothing, and it is managable, but not very easy. I am not doing horrific at it, which should tell you something about how much better it will be, once I am properly medicated, and back to seeing a therapist, which will happen in a couple days.
To any of you going through the same thing, keep going it gets easier, and I am here for you if you need me.
If I can say anything, it is that if I can do this so can anyone else! I am crazy, and will tell you it is getting way easier for me, and most of the time I am somewhat content. It will get easier for you, whoever you are, too.
Clearly See See Clearly
I just was talking to my Dad, about the ideas that I have expressed thus far on this site, and we both talked about what I think was revealed to me by the powers that be, or the powers that govern my existence because I believe in them, which is why I say often that people are free to believe what they want, and that I don’t mean to preach or say anything to dictate the beliefs of others.
I believe in what I believe in and it governs me because I myself assign meaning to it. I have placed a lot of faith in the universe punishing people for selfishness, and then done exactly what I think should be punished, insane right? I know.
I am going to stop self fullfilling my own damnations now.
Clearly See, See Clearly
Sight in the middle of Chaotic Self Assertion.
That is were I write from, metaphorically, and physically, always and forever, well not really… sometimes… I write from under the bridges, or under ground, or under tree cover, but those times I write on walls, about things that do not belong on the internet.
And now this…
Are you resigned?
Clearly. It is in my name. Or in hers, which is now mine, always and forever, always and forever. I stole it because she doesn’t want it anymore, she never was a writer anyway, just wanted to help me, by making everything that was mine hers, like my voice. I am not saying writing is mine, by the way, but she wanted to use my voice, to reach people, she told me this, so we could make money, she said it was to help me.
Yeah right. It really helps me doesn’t it. Not a question, because it doesn’t.
I hope she is happy with that **** who stole my money. I hope they had a lot of fun with all 60 dollars of it.
It only took me 2 hours to get it anyway, standing on a corner, holding a sign. They were always jealous of that. I told them, its simple. People help me because I am ****ing insane.
It involved having a PTSD flashback and mental breakdown, that I am still dealing with the ramifications of now. My entire body hurts, its strange. I think it might be good that this happened, it happened and I am not dead, so that’s good… I guess? I just want to get away from here… I am trying to deal with someone who does not understand that whatever they may feel, it is not appropriate to follow everyone around shouting about their views, when their views weren’t asked. They weren’t involved in any specific discussion with me, they just were going around literally and I mean this literally meaning this is what happened… over and over and over and over and over and over repeating and repeating
Stand here and listen to everything I say for 30 minutes, even though I know you are doing something, even though you asked me kindly to stop, even though you have made it clear that you don’t want to talk about this.
These are my political views
This is why I am right.
This is how this applies to this topic which has nothing to do with politics.
Look at this video that is 10 minutes long with someone saying I am right.
Read this thing that says I am right.
If I said no to any of this, they would follow me around screaming about I was not educated, unkind, and wrong.
If I said nothing, they would scream about how I was not listening.
If I walked away they would follow me, explaining how they have a right to have their views heard.
The thing is, I never asked for their views about politics. I said I like chocolate ice cream.
This is literally insane. The chocolate ice cream example is not an exaggeration, it is not the thing that started the thing, but it was something like that, and I had such a hard core panic attack and episode after what they did, I can’t even remember what they decided to use as an opportunity to attack views I don’t even have. I am not political at all really, I like to stay out of other people’s business…
I am exhausted and am going to bed. I wish I could leave this house. I am going to work on that going forward every day now, this is insanity.
I am not sure if I am, or if something is just changing. I have two competing sensations
1. I am losing my mind, permanently
2. My mind is finally fixing itself
I am not sure which one is accurate.
I am not sure of anything right now.
I have begun to feel comfortable actually, which makes me think I am in the process of awaiting some strange horrific malady. I will tell you this, I do not ****ing like this, and it is very ****ing uncomfortable.
Although, I think my family is doing better, I am using my powers of mental insight for good finally. I have started doing weird things to help my family get along better. I wrote a note to one of them that solved a dispute that they had with each other, and now they are getting along better. That is all I will say on this website about that, because I no longer have the gift of anonymity. I gave one of them this website address as a way for one of them to find out more about me..I had been gone for 7 years using and drinking on the streets, and in various hotel rooms, other situations.
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.
Stream of Consciousness
I really just wanted to make the Lord of the Rings joke. That is the whole reason for this post really. I have been trying to find some reason to make a Lord of the Rings joke all day, because I love Lord of the Rings. Which is funny because I have only ever read the Hobbit, and never finished the series, because I am lazy. I have a hard time reading anything that is not a horror story because it is the only style that holds my attention.
I think that is because it is the only style that competes with the horrific images, that are my imagination, which is horrible. I think that might not be my fault though, I think it might be PTSD. I just noticed how often I use the word fault, or blame, and it is a little bit disturbing. There are a lot of times I use this and it is not even something that involves fault or blame. I don’t know why I do this.
Our dog hid under the table all night, and followed me around, which is strange, seeking protection from me, when I have always viewed myself as the storm people seek protection from
The thunder and lightning, were my grandmother’s favorite thing in the world, she would drop everything she was doing to go and sit and watch storms. I am reminded of how horribly I treated her, when she was dying. She was an addict too, just alcohol instead of heroin, and I was in the begining of heroin use, so I resented her for having an addiction that everyone could openly see, and knew about. She was a large part of why I left, or my resentment of her, and my family’s varied response to her versus me.
I didn’t understand what made up so different, my drug of choice being different only in that it was illegal.
I forgot my heroin use came after her death from cancer or COPD, or some variation of the two. I forgot what my family went through with her, because I didn’t go through the same thing. I only cared about me.
I apologized for this tonight, so I kind of feel better about the whole thing.
I am adding this at the top, but it is a revision, just did something because of below dream, to help someone out. Not revealing that on here, because all that is important about this is I am learning I care about people.
In the nightmare I was walking around ranting like a lunatic about things I thought were going on outside my window, which was what I was doing shortly before I went to sleep last night. I was doing this and my family walked in on me doing, and told me to stop doing it. I was by myself and they came in and told me it bothered them and to stop doing it, so since I wasn’t in my room, or the room I stay in, I went in there, and did the same thing. They came in there and they did the same thing.
I told them that them listening to what I was doing when I was supposed to be in a spot they told me I could sleep in, made me feel like it was unsafe to sleep in there, which it did, because if someone is watching me when I sleep, I will not sleep.
I ranted like this to myself for an hour or so about this and the news and how the whole thing made me feel, and then I apologized after coming to my senses, and told my family that the way they were acting was making me worse, and that the evidence of that was that I was geting worse, and that was why I wanted to leave and get my own place, which they now know I am going to do matter what.
Anyway, the dream, the dream was that I never went to sleep, just kept doing this all night, and got drunk, and I got drunk in the dream by accident by the way, I accidently took a sip of my family’s wine, from a glass I thought was water, and then realizing that I had fucked up, I got drunk about it.
So point being I woke up from this dream, checked in the room for the wine, and was extremely relieved it was a dream, because I actually care if I mess this up, for myself, no one else, I care about my own sobriety, in an almost selfish way.
That is kind of cool.
Anyway the dream,
Sometimes when you are insane, you think everything about you, compelled by things that are not real, because you read into them, things that you were paranoid people thought, not realizing that you were the one projecting those things on those that actually love you.
I talked to my family, and I completely misread the whole thing. I made comments that were made about things that had nothing to do with me, about me, because I was paranoid they were about me. They weren’t. They were about things I didn’t even know about. I told my family that I am going to start paying attention to the times when I have this strange feeling that my body is on fire, because it seems to lead me to say things and think things that are not nice, and based on discomfort from experiencing latent withdrawl.
I am walking through the woods, looking at the trees, and feeling the gentle breeze against my face. It is fall, and not late enough in the season for it to be cold enough to feel like winter, simply just feeling like fall. Like falling into the end of the seasons, and towards the begining of a new year. The leaves are turning colors, my eyes dart from leaf to leaf, each one different, like predictive snow flakes, predictive in that they are very much the same as snow flakes, and signal the end of the year.
I think, that this is what those recovery people talk about, I feel good, like
I told them this is one of the reasons I hate myself, and they told me not to. That they love me anyway.
I think this is what those recovery groups talk about. I feel good, like I will be able to sleep tonight maybe,
I am sitting in a room, and consumed with die soon, because I do not live in present time, but in worrying about spent dime, that was spent long ago, and today it was shown to me
The power of moving on, is that you move on, which means you just move on, and I think I just figured that out. I ruined my own life, and I am going to stop making excuses, I don’t care anymore what I did to ruin it.
I really am. This is really helping me. I am close to having nothing left to say about all of this. I have almost gotten everything from everyone who hurt me out of my system. I am starting to have a life again. I have friends, who like me and my family likes me again. I just don’t have anyone in that way, and I don’t think I will for a long time. I am extremely hurt by everyone who has ever been with me, because they just used me. That is why I scream on here, because I am not going to ruin my life again. I am over that.
I am not as alone as I think I am. I know I have been complaining a lot about my life. I am just trying to throw up all the negativity on here, so I don’t channel it into my everyday life, like I used to. I think in the past, I have brought people into my life who hated me, because I hated me, and for some reason I didn’t realize they were agreeing with me, because I was hating on myself. The people in my life now are much different, they call me on my bull****. So sometimes, it feels like I have no one, because I assume that worry and concern are anger, and fortunately, I am starting to realize this before I do what I always do, and push everyone away and run back outside to ruin my life again.
I have people around me, I just sometimes become so lost in my own head that I forget they are there. It is cool that the people I have in my life now, know that I am mentally unstable, and suprisingly are okay with it, and help me when I am having a hard time.
I made an appointment finally to see a psychiatrist, due to the advice of one of my close friends, who was so concerned for me, I became concerned for her, so I did it to make her feel better, and now I feel better.
I am starting to feel like I might have a shot at a normal life… and that it might not be as bad as I thought it would be, which is great because everything up until very recently has been terrible.
I used to think, this was a command about getting coins, a vessel being something that held coins, this being my alcoholic mind making things up that make no sense. A vessel has never been something that holds coins, instead being a large boat, or a hollow container used to hold liquid.
So of course, me being who I am, thought that it was supposed to hold coins, or booze money, or money for other things that are the same things, because it doesn’t matter, I can be addicted to running and make myself sick running till I feel like I am going to pass out, and tell myself that I am doing a good thing, because it is only running right?
Or the time when I figured out you could experience.. hey.. how bout I not do that? How about I say something positive for a change, instead of being on a failing ship that is falling because I loaded it with fools gold, how about I say something posotive and turn the fate of my ship around, right? Clearly See not will asserted See Clearly right?
Having fun talking to yourself?
Positive self-talk, my style. 😛
I can do it too, I just do it this way.
I am learning that the truth is, I am just so damn arrogant that I thought my way worked, even though clearly it does not, and I have been taught that recently by people who love me, and have way more knowledge of what is true and real than I ever did doing things on my own.
I am learning to change vessels, to get off the failing ship, failing because it ia loaded with spare change meant to buy things I don’t need, and take the advice of friends who love me.
They were telling me the truth the whole time, I just wasn’t listening.
I am not privy to the truth yet, I am too **** arrogant to know anything that even resembles that, but I am working on seeing and if I can do that first maybe I can finally find out what truth even means, because I have had my eyes shut my whole **** life and someone just turned on the freakin’ lights, so I will figure out from here I guess, but at least I know what I am dealing with now, and that I can’t freaking do this alone anymore, because I didn’t realize this alone. It took people I know with flashlights to help show me the way out of the freaking darkness, towards a light in the sky that may illuminate the path away from a failing vessel full of fools gold.
British people are great, free wallop meaning alcoholic drinks, but also meaning the same thing that wallop already means which is to strike someone very hard. That is perfect. It perfectly describes me when drinking, violent. It perfectly describes the deviant reaction of my brain to an addictive substance, which also being a slang term for an alcoholic drink.
Best prompt ever. Done. Thank you wordpress.
I am talking to a reflection of pain
It is telling me trust me, baby, I will make life risky. I am hearing this, and thinking I am bored, and a game sounds fun so, lets go, and I can’t even imagine wanting this now so, no.
Daily writing prompt
What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?
I am jovial, I am rude, I make Roman God, a human mood.
I think that my human state of being is divine, my heart, so fine.
Watch me speak with words careless tossed, like man who loves to just get sauced, I am happy, I am free, I am elated, I am me.
I need nothing, I don’t frown, I am flying, don’t look down, I am gliding, I am elated, I am fixated, not properly punctuated, I am ranting, I am mad, I need no breath, just pauses sad, because in this state, I cannot last, I am the eyes of man who drinks from tainted glass.
Look at me, look at me, I need nothing, I am free. I am happy, I am me.
I used to believe in luck, and my ability be flying through life on the wings of a plane, that was going down, to the ground, burning till I realized, I could jump off the plane, and trust, that I need not be a brain that was covered in rust, I could get clean by rain that was brought by trust, that all I needed to do is look up, and see what was above me. I am not the highest thing, I may have been higher than anything, but I was falling fast, and rather be destined to crash.. I realized that I had to make my life last and grab onto something that would make things last.
I now believe in faith, or simply have it I guess, and so when my mind is unrest, I do not feel pain in my chest, or find myself compelled to undertake dark quest for something ripped out of devil chest, I simply trust in something higher than fire could ever make me, and I am finally realizing that is greatly
More peace-bringing than luck and a dedication to an empire fueled by fire driven desire could ever make me in a million years.
I wake up, hearing a street sweeper, my head rested against the glass door of a convenience store, I have 30 minutes, to get my stuff out of here, before the cops come and tell me it is illegal to sleep outside, and then make me leave, which I was doing anyway, and they make it take longer.
It is extremely hard to roll a sleeping bag up with a police officer asking you why you can’t do it faster, and trying to explain how you are missing the tips of three fingers, while listening to him laugh about how
“Well maybe, you shouldn’t have done drugs then!”
I know that now, didn’t know that then…
This lady comes up and asks me what I am doing, she is making this harder.
She tells me I need to get a job. I am somewhere else in my head thinking about how I wish I was a turtle, so I say,
“Do you know how long turtles live?”
She thinks this is some sort of veiled threat, so now I have ten minutes to get out of here, before the it takes one and a half hours and a ticket to get out of here instead of 20 minutes.
I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.
I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.
I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….
I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.
“I knew I shouldn’t watch, that she wouldn’t want me to. But the way that water slipped around her bare skin rooted me in place. The moon shone down on both on us both, alighting her beauty, and me in sin.”
I have no voice, or choice to move.
I am not man, I am not one who desires food.
I am unlike this woman, I observe.
I am home to nest, I am home to bird.
She does not know, because she cannot understand, I am a tree, and yet I see, her where she stands.
I am fan that blows in all weather. No longer is my temper tethered to changes in wind.
I have learned to accept things I cannot change, so I am no longer bothered by the rain, nor do I cry when the sun is clouded by inclement clouds, I am without
Bother, when it is hotter than I can stand, because now I realize it is all going according to something that has nothing to do with me.
I can stand and be, simply free, to experience bliss.
I am able to feel the sun again, because I pay attention, not demanding perfection, but forgetting to mention I don’t know what that is.
I am just simply me, standing outside experiencing something that is not mine. It does not matter whether it is existential or divine.
It matters only that I accept it exists, and is not specific to me, I just experience this, and that’s a gift.
I used to play Mario, and have hissy fits at the screen when I would lose, I hated it, but everyone liked it, so I would play it and almost break the game system, and ruin it for everyone else. I was never a very happy child.
Everyone else would sit there laughing at making jokes, enjoying the thrill of the game, and I would be thinking about stealing wine from downstairs, because Mario made me so freaking nervous. I was always running of cliffs or jumping into the Goombas, hands shaking with anger or nervousness, and then running away to go find alcohol downstairs. I was 13.
My entire life as far as I can remember, has been very much like this game, a chaotic running into Goombas, or dealers, or cops, or people who want to kick my *** because I ripped them off, or my family mad because I spent all my money on things that no one should spend any of their money on.
I am happy today because I literally forgot, today is my 90th day sober and clean. I am so consumed with being happy about other things, I forgot I was not drinking or doing drugs.
I have never known happiness like this. It cost me nothing, and I can have it by not buying things I didn’t need, if I keep doing the right thing, which makes me feel good anyway.
Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.
I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.
I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.
I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.
I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.
I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.
This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.
Mercy cycle is harder.
I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.
I emptied both of my laundry baskets last night, metaphorical and physical, instead of throwing all my clothes out and saying I don’t need more than the clothes on my back.
I don’t have many clothes, or I didn’t because whenever I would get angry, I would throw my clothes out, or all over the road, or all over the woods, or leave them at someone’s house, or you get the idea. I leave things places, because I don’t need things… or so I thought.. apparently… that is addiction thinking……
I used to hate my family,
Because they did not understand me.
They told me try to get better, because they don’t ****ing understand me…
Or because they love you, jerk.
I did my laundry yesterday with my mother, and she helped me fold it because I am missing three of my finger tips, because I have done things that caused me to get infections in my hands…
I told her I was sorry, and now my laundry is put away and all of it is clean.
This is the name of the book. I just started reading this, and it is very interesting, more about it later.
Oh, and I found this journal I started about the whole thing that happened across the country that revealed to me basically that I was trying to write myself as the villain in my own story because I hate myself. I am going to post stuff from it on here later tonight with more info on the real story, not the over dramatized version that was all schizophrenic alcoholic addict-ified, because I feel like it will help me process it, and for anyone reading this provide some clarity into what actually happened… heh..
I thought I had 88 days, because time stopped for me at a certain point. I just put it into this app I use, and apparently tomorrow I will have 90 days. Sweet.
My clean/sober date is the 25th of December, so I think that is right, I am bad at math, **** it… the app says it is right.
I found this book that has a bunch of really cool things in it while trying to get myself to stop thinking that the path I need to follow is beating myself over the back of the head with a poll of I hate myself.
The book is about word origins, and the called Word Origins and their romantic stories, and will post more about it tomorrow. It is by this author named Wilfred Funk and has a lot of really cool info in it, oh and apparently tomorrow is day 90. I got th days wrong… dufus…
I am looking for my dog outside, cursing the universe, screaming in chaos. Running in the streets screaming the name Fiona over and over. I am having a panic attack simultaneously, cursing everything that there is in the universe that caused this to happen.
I forget that I caused this to happen. This is a looking back view of this by the way, brought on by PTSD. My ex’s father just died, and I feel bad because we, meaning my ex and I, not the plural of me, put that man through hell.
I forget sometimes, my own role in the decisions that lead to the situations I am faced with, and I am very prone in those moments, to screaming at something in the sky when I should just looking for my dog.
Unfortunately I ruined it, so for now I am stuck with this, and I think I am supposed to learn to release control
‘I hate my life sometimes, because I just want some semblance of control over something, not everything, just something. I feel like I have been in a situation, my whole life… where I am fighting to control everything because I control nothing. I get that I am supposed to stop doing this, and I am trying, but it is like being in a rigged chess game, or that is what it feels like.
How am I supposed to be okay with losing, if I know the game is rigged to begin with?
I know this all just addict thinking, resentment based, my life is harder.. that’s why I got high… got drunk… but my life was the reason I got high or drunk…… I am still in the same horrible positions I have been fighting all my life to escape, just lesser versions of them. I don’t get sometimes what the point of all this is, I guess? How am I supposed to trust something that I don’t understand enough to trust?
I guess I want to change the answer of this post,
I wish I could trust in a higher power more every day.
I am walking in the middle of the night and there is no one else around except as person across the street.
I can hear them talking to themselves. It is too dark for them to see me. I can see them, their shadowy form is caught and struck by the very faint light of the street lights above them. They are moving slowly, limping slightly. They stop every so often to pick something of the ground, falling from an open bag, with contents overflowing out of it. I wonder why… the zipper is broken, I see the glint of the zipper, and the twist tie that is poorly fastened to it. It seems to have been engineered in a hurry.
The person has a slight limp in their left leg, I can see that because they are dragging it, as if chained to something they drag their leg ever so slightly. It drags behind them, painting a picture of struggle in the sandy dirt which is characteristic to the area that I am in right now, which I cannot remember the name of right now.. is it… New Mexico… they cough.. and they turn their head. They have not realized the fallen contents of the bag. Wrappers. They do not appear to have any food in them, they are paper, likely saved as fire starters.
They don’t seem to notice.
The bag is falling apart more now, there is a sleeve of a long sleeve shirt falling out of the bag, the person, can’t tell if they are male or fema…
They curse. They are struggling with the bag. They throw it on the ground, cursing its very existence, the fall over crying, and sit on the sidewalk, head cast into their lap. They do not know anyone is watching them.
I used to swim in the ocean after the life guards left, when the beach was closed to the public, in the middle of the night.
It would be pitch black, and there would be times when the cold water and my skin would begin to feel the same, and I could close my eyes and be nowhere,
One with everything.
I am well enough to be left to my own devices, and you can leave me be, without having to try to bend me, and shape me to your vices, your desires to mold the world to your sacrifices, which are not mine, are not divine and are in line with high prices, not willing to be paid by me, to your idea of
Divinity, and your desire to incrementally ram down my throat, ideas that make me choke
Is the reason why I use to toke, smoke, and inject pain in vain in soul devastating reign of pain.
I have had it with you too. I hate everything you do too. I wish you would stop too.
The difference is, I am not saying this. I am not doing anything to you.
I am just being me, and being free, and trying to be.
Free of you and everything you do.
To mold me to be you.
A former Deputy Senate President, Ike Ekweremadu; his wife Beatrice and their doctor have been convicted of organ trafficking, in the first verdict of its […] The post Organ Trafficking: Ekweremadu, Wife, Doctor Found Guilty first appeared on Prompt News.
I am happy today, and thank everything higher than I ever was, that there is justice in the world, that I am finally beginning to see, now that I am not ****ed up. I am glad they caught this ****. This has always scared the **** out of me.
A journey through MISERY
PUSH PLUNGER GO ON THE EYE OF A NEEDLE RIGGED WITH SPENDTHRIFT DEATH
Forgetting is a tragic problem I have, but it is getting better, as my ego dies, and I open my eyes to the fact that I could not see, because I was sick and deranged by a disease strange and prone to mange and change human form, to distort and contort the human body, and make it unrecognizable to the have-
er of one.
I have been know as a chaos chaser of dragons, a pusher of substance, and prayer in holes of foxes, in ditches, in alleyways, a shooter of heroes, and a placer of ins and outs in acts heroic so I can go without doing them, pushing them in with sowing needles that stitch me out and in to a quilted madness in the bed I was making and would have to lie in and lay in, in death.
I have come to a place now where I can go home as well, well too.
This home allows the chaotic night to continue without my pushing assertion of madness, and it is a little quieter minus one night crier night crawler, who now sleeps and dreams.
I used to spend so much time talking and none listening. Don’t get me wrong, I am on here all the time writing all day. I know that is talking, but I enjoy listening so much more than talking to myself, or even writing. I am starting to think differently about the words I write on here, as being tools to establish connections with human beings that are out there somewhere, that I cannot see, without these words on this screen. This has brought me so much peace, in a world that used to be dominated by chaos, and I owe that to everything outside myself. I am so glad I decided to let go of everything and trust something outside myself to guide me to something better, that I have never known before.
Thank you, all of you.
You as always continue to paint my world with color when it used to be a world of darkness and despair.
I find myself
Staring up at the sky a lot now, realizing how much time
Meditating on ground and sensations of going down
Underneath the dirt and bugs, and now with embrace from the master of all space and time I am free to migrate up, and drink from cups of water again, and have friends and hands that are not my own, because I am free to own nothing and everything at once, in a state of sharing an existence in stance with a oneness that I do not even understand because I am not supposed to because I am one of many, and we are all one of one.
I love all of you.
The biggest compliment I have ever received, I have received over and over recently, because I am a person of doing something either very hard or not at all, and such is my life because the universe tends to speak to me in voices I can understand, which is convenient, and speaks to the wisdom inherent in a universe that is so much wiser than me, who knew? I am not the smartest person in the universe?
Sorry, sarcasm helps me deal with having to admit weakness, which I am learning is a strength. A bunch of my friends, who are a compliment in and of themselves, for being my friends, have paid me the compliment of understanding me more than I understood myself, and having patience with the fact that I am an ***. They like me for who I am, that is the best thing in the entire world, and a couple of them today, told me that over coffee, while we talked about our lives, and we all actually listened to each other, instead of just waiting to cut each other off, like my other friends used to. I like the new friends I have so much better, because I have started to connect with people with the condition that they have to be people like me, sober and clean people, who don’t do the things I don’t want to be around. Those people have become the best friends I could ever ask for and continue to compliment me just by continuing to want to hang out with me with no motive to gain anything other than company.
Here is to not hanging out with misery anymore, I prefer the company of the angels of mercy so much more, so much more entertaining than the misery demons that populated the chaotic streets. Entertaining angels is so much better.
I like to change the meaning of words, to make them all about me, a psychotic narcissist drug addict, who is on a mission to die. I instantly saw in this an inserted I into a word that is about a pretty bird. I think about myself and my dying lifestyle constantly.. I have written my romance with this drug/drink all over the internet in a homage to death..
Think about bird dumb ***
Flat line, new thought.
I am a reborn bird, not a phoenix but a heron. I have been reborn that way, due to the death of my I or eyes that previously only saw in blurry psycho vision inspired by drugs and only drugs.
I am two spirits so narcissistic that there forced by will of a power high than me to share the same body and be born as a bird who can be a heron not addicted to heroic acts of failure. I have one minute left. Bam.
I am the changing mind of Amanda/Damien who is now unified and not fighting itself because it has been gifted with this so it would not destroy itself.
I am the split of two souls
I have always felt like I am being a girl/I have always felt like a guy.
I have been fighting myself dilated through two universe, a narcissist but also a hater of myself, psychotic two spirit with soul split in misery and dilated through drugs, dumb, and blind because I chose to be, but I am really two spirits second chance, they are in this together fighting for redemption. They are two souls that would have been in misery without each other.
I am a chaotic mad chasing, not of nothing but of my own self, which existed with me the whole time, I was just too arrogant to see that my higher power had given me something different. Thankful for today. I will no longer use this to change my voice and commit petty crime.
I can die later, when it wants me to, only it knows that.
I realize now why this was done, we were both so arrogant we needed to be brought to our knees. We did this in psychosis, the only way we knew how a narcissist drowning in life trying to be with themselves. I can live with myself now because me and Amanda or Damien and I are the same person. BAM. Thank you, to a power higher than for teaching me the hard way, the only way I would listen.
I have been arrogant my whole life, and not willing to listen. The point of this post is to say, my eyes were shut before, I was being told to see, and shutting my eyes, or blurring them with substances. I am opening my eyes now because something gave me the biggest compliment in the world, something beyond my understanding is speaking to me, not because I am important, but simply because I am talking back and willing to listen. I am willing to listen in the same way anyone can be. I am not special, I am not unique, just willing to listen now, and it is responsible for any good that comes from me, and I should have known that but I was prideful, and wrong.
I am trying to be open to it now, and see clearly how wrong I was, and how much higher it is than I ever was, because it is above me in the understanding of everything. It is responsible for everything.
I am at peace, right now, with myself, and with the universe, that is all.
Who knew real friends are better than imaginary ones? Sometimes it feels like everyone except me knew. I am so psyched I actually have friends now, and they give a **** about me not just because I am providing them some sort of business deal or exchanging some kind of favor for something they have, they are people I can be open and honest with and they are open and honest with me, and actually ****ing like me. I am so psyched. Every day that goes by the amount of people I am connecting with is growing, and I forget that when I am alone for a couple of days, and send myself ping ponging backwards into a land of pain that is not real anymore. I had a friend of mine tell me recently to move on.
I think that is major. I think a lot of what I have been ranting about on here, all the past resentments, were what was killing me. I think the problem was, I thought I was supposed to beat myself up to heal, and I am finding out through the wisdom of others, now that I am being honest that I am not so different from those around me, and it was my own arrogance that was so fatal, not the decisions that I had made. The fact that I was not willing to accept help was what was killing me, not what I had done in the past.
I say I am never touching you again, and I am being childish, but you don’t want to know what I meant, and it was nothing against you.
I was in love with you, and I know my hands are dirty because they always are, not physically but metaphorically, that is why they are usually cracked and bleeding and prone to infection, aside from old habits done with fire and shot in vain.
You told me you knew how to help me, I told you I didn’t need your help, and you said I was being selfish, so I let you unpack the suitcase of dirty laundry that is my aching bleeding cut, open wound of a soul, and you donated them all to charity and bought me new clothes, I am not going to wear your new clothes, I am a human being with feelings, and bad as I am, I am still a human being with feelings, and if you hated me so much…. I am starting to be glad you are no longer around, because I would rather be lonely the rest of my life, then ever have to fight with someone while high on my own supply with you who contributed nothing but criticism, when I kept trying to get clean and sober.
Here, you would say, giving me some of yours, which I didn’t know you had, when you were going line for line shot for shot with me, on money bought with gambling that no one figures me out.
I am so tired of thinking of you.
Warning- I use poetic metaphor to illustrate intense feeling of dual diagnosis addict/alcoholic dealing with manic/depressive symptoms during break-up. I used bleeding out as a metaphor here for pain in recovering from the breakup and it is graphic, if triggered turn back now.
I am lying on a beach, in my head, because it is winter, and bleeding out, of a wound that is not literal, but in my heart, my soul, my mind, bleeding all the time, dying over you, my ray of light. I loved you with every fiber of my very fragile being, and I am admitting that because I finally realize I need to, to stop bleeding out of my soul. I am doing this to save my life, because you cut my soul so deep, I thought I would die, without you, and that can’t be true, but in the moment, I felt it so strongly so deeply, an aching, pounding sickening vomit inducing ache that penetrates everything I am and makes me have to violate everything I have ever believed to be strength to scream on here in pain to save my life, I am so hurt. I need someone to hear me, and this page hears me.
I want so bad, to have what I never had, what I imagined, so vividly it seemed real with you. I was stupid, I am insane, and somehow I made you out to be, everything I wanted, and I don’t know how I convinced myself that is who you are, when you just wanted items and money and confidence from me. I hate myself so much for being so stupid, but writing this makes me realize if nothing else at least I am not you, at least I tried to be kind, and I would never do to you what you did to me. I am healing through the realization that while wounded and crazy sometimes, I don’t want to hurt anyone like you hurt me, so I will keep going and stay clean and sober and hope one day I will find peace.
I am learning that I was stuck in a cycle, going down the drain, a cycle that I am not out of, but aware of now. I am still in the cycle, I just can catch myself when I realize I am about to disappear down the drain, the whole honesty thing is really powerful. I am crazy so I really believed I was doomed and would always be alone, stuck in my psycho delusions, ranting to myself about not being at fault, knowing that it was my weakness, and desire to assert instead of show strength that caused my drain circling. I am learning that like this metaphor, such is my life. I figured out through everything going on with me, that I am able to let poison out and let it go down the drain without having to go down the drain completely, myself. I am a human being and there are no drains that fit human beings down them, because that is not necessary.
I know this after the chaotic torture fest that has been the contents of this blog. I am so thankful I did this, I don’t think I would be alive right now if I had not written this down, and am thankful every day, for all of you, all of this, and a life that is very much worth starting over.
I am coming to a place of peace, which I didn’t think I would ever know, and I owe that to everyone on here, and my family and friends around me physically, and the support I have gotten from those who gave me medical and spiritual guidance so far. I am very much caught up most of the time, in the blame shame guilt thing. Spaced that way on purpose, because there is awkwardness there for me. I like to control everything because I am an addict, I mean to say, which I know I don’t have to keep saying, but saying it helps me. It reminds me that I am not just a rotten apple, unlike the others that are all just a metaphor for good or bad human beings, that should not be compared to something that I can throw in the trash, but the comparison is made on purpose, to illustrate how I behaved in active addiction, which I do not miss at all anymore.
I am getting over everything slowly. I am still not over the whole Rei/Justin thing, and it has been a year of this by the way. The revelations on this site, were not happening in real time, they were a dilation of a situation internal to my mind, that was driving me insane, which was happening in real time, and you saw on here, me fighting with hallucinations brought on by pain. I am sorry for the false presentation of this, if it consolation, this was exactly how it was happening my life as well, with me thinking things at this screen, just not admitting none of it was happening in real time, because it was too painful to admit that to myself.
I am trying to learn to forgive myself, that I am not all bad, but it is very hard, because I have always hated myself.
I used to run in the mornings, when I was healthy, not addicted, and freer than I ever knew, before I had severed the ties that bound me to my fellow man. I did not realize this severance was sign of weakness, instead of strength.
I am prone to shouting at the universe, to chaotic crying out, in desperation to leave me alone, so because I actually get what I ask for, I am alone a lot.I asked for it, and the universe delivered, and I have a fit over the delivery, because that makes sense right? A package ordered by a drunk/high lunatic, high on resentment this time, way less fun.
I am learning how much peace I had when I went jogging, not running or escaping, and I am reminded of a time in California where I was trying to escape a um… bad deal..
I was trying to pretend to jog… and realized I had forgotten what that even looks like.. caught up in my chaos, I forgot how to run for fun… so I couldn’t even fake it..
I used to think myself, so free, but now I realize… I was just chained to different things..
I am trying to get back to that a mental fitness of jogging not running.
I am in the process of reviving myself, from a life spent dancing with death.
I spent my life dancing with this bone-handed, harsh, squeezing binding reaper,
It’s hands holding ever so tightly to mine, feeling the hard bones of what I would eventually become, pushing into my flesh with a claim on my living body, making it belong to death before its time.
I have been asleep most of my life, pacing through madness, sleep-walker unconscious, but I am not this. I am not asleep, and have responsibility for all that I do not see, talk to, experience, and participate with… in a life that has always been mine.
I am a closed eyed human, not blind, not asleep.
I was a closed eyed human, but the shoulder taps of kindness, of kind strangers, are waking me up.
Thank you for preventing me from falling down the stairs… again… I might do it later, but I am awake for now.
I just got back from hanging out with my dad, and it is cool how different things are now that I am trying to makes things right, I talked to him about all the chaos that I caused, continue to cause because I am prone to delusions, and how sorry I am. I noticed that saying things like this keep me from drinking, keep me coming back to a place, where I can stop beating myself up and are making it possible for me to walk out of the woods where I kept taking the wrong path on purpose and falling in random holes because I thought I was going to find secret gold in rocks I found on the ground.
I think the metaphor for drug addiction and eating rocks and drinking poison instead of doing the simple thing of eating food and drinking water is hilarious. I can’t believe how much my thinking has changed. It’s funny I was convinced everyone is out to get me when this is more true…
Same word re-arranged…
Same word re-arranged.
Hero in pushed together it forms a drug
Divided it references a hero in me
Heroine with an everlasting e it makes me a hero for saving my own life.
I am very back and forth, a torrent of pain whirling around in a sink, that I kept pulling the stopper of, and I would let parts of me flush down it, not realizing that I don’t get them back.
I pulled the drain over and over, chopping off pieces in my madness, I would let parts of me fall into the sink of destruction watching as I slowly disappeared and using it as an excuse to drink or go soo…….
High into the sky, I felt lost, but free, but I got stuck up there, so high up there.. floating.. in nothingness..
I with real eyes, with non-blurred vision now, that the state of elation I was looking for, was inside me all along, I get the same high now, sometimes, when I am not doing poorly, and I frequently am, but I am trying.. through this, writing to you, imaginary person, and I love you so much for saving my life.
I don’t always remember this, in my cycle of drain life, but I remember it enough for it to be a small way to get out of the drain.
I can still talk to you though we exist not in the same dimension, all the time at least, I visit you because I see you, you see me and you speak and I hear you because I listen. I listen to everything, to the mutterings of the under spoken word, to the shouting to mad dark night, to the words callously yelled into chaotic dark night, because they used to consume me, but they don’t anymore, because I realized I can cast them out on here.
I travel back and forth to Misery through my mind, and through others, who I see, stuck there, and they speak to me from there. I can see it in them speaking to me, speaking through them now, this came to me last night after a dream, I have been having strange dreams.
I am thinking that ghosts sometimes just want to be heard and are not used to being heard so say thing that they have always wanted to say very quickly and it is up to me to decode them because the universe is showing me them and them me for a reason, positive being the key over negative.
I began training my dog to help me with a personal mission. I wanted to hunt wild boar. It was not just for me, but for her so she would stop chewing on my leg and her leg, because I was paranoid she wanted to eat mine, so I thought maybe she could eat a wild boar’s leg instead.
When I am lucid, I know that she never had any intention, of chewing off anyone’s leg,
Not mine, not a wild boar, not hers
I just thought of this because I am
I have a functional brain that works most of the time, but sometimes
And there is no fear in me to admit
Anymore, because I have realized that the
I had was in my failure to admit things, not in admitting them or making them into other things, in creative metaphor to slay like metaphorical dragons, I was just experiencing
And I am no longer
Or have to roll around in
Because I cast out these metaphorical demons on a black screen.
I am your admission that your guilt is real,
I am your recognition that your dragons represent guilt erected into a false sense of pride and shame blame that explains why you
But I am also your strength in admitting this and
Casting it out.
I am an inner demon, I am a deep seeded hatred, I am a future projection,
I am what you feel, I am who you are, I am who you are in the process of seeing
I am you. I am fighting you
To be real
Because you are an addict addicted to the things that make me
Making you unreal with a desire to un-feel.
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?
My dog left me, she stayed with my ex, not my last ex, but the one before. She had a sister, and they never had been separated, so I let my ex not the last one, but the other one. The one before.
I tell myself she left me, forgetting the drive to drop her off at my ex’s house, and how dogs can’t drive, but neither can I. I did not choose that and neither did she. She was too wild and free for where I stay currently, and it is metaphoric in a way my choice to stay away, chained as I was to addiction, locking myself in a metaphoric hotel that represented the real hell of once being in a real hotel with the devil who is really my ex-boyfriend who wanted me to be everything I was not so much so, I realized everything I was not.
The dog who sits next to me now, knows all this, somehow or I feel she does. I came here, and was initially… I am ashamed to say bothered by her.. a tragic reminder of what I lost, as if it was something I owned.
I own no dog, but no one ever does, and the souls of the dogs of this world are very much the same in all their subtle differences, radiating love, unable to be felt by human beings because of their innate trust that only goes away if you are bad to them.
Reflecting on this makes me realize I did the right thing for you, my dear Fiona, and I love my mother’s dog the same way now that I still love you.
I went to the doctor and got the rest of my shots, hep a and b and am still taking my meds for staph infection, I am going to make a psych doctor appointment and get the rest of my health things in order, I have to see a nuerologist, because I have not done that since California. I am feeling so much better since I started living in reality, and not projecting my life into some strange fantasy where I feel so guilty about being a drug addict that I equate it to actually being the one responsible for hurting anyone. I did not realize till recently, how sad and messed up that is, and how it has ruined so many things for me, by my own self sabotage. I think I felt like being some violent social deviant was some how better than saying I was who I was because it made me feel like I had control over my life.
I have control over my life now without having to pretend I was hurting anyone. I was only hurting myself by putting all of that, the weight of all of that on my own shoulders, and making myself out to be some social deviant when I was just a sad addict who couldn’t handle admitting mistakes made because I felt that saying I messed up made me weak. Hurting people would not have made me strong. I am stronger admitting weakness, than living in some sick twisted Misery world where I hurt unsuspecting people who had nothing to do with my inability to accept myself.
I love all you guys who helped me see this. I am so sorry for anything I said out of lack of knowledge about what was really going on with me. I am trying to be better.
I can change my voice to sound like a man or woman, it is like nothing you have seen coming, I am my girlfriend and my boyfriend, person with four hands that will convince you that is someone who is me is after me, and will stand there laughing, while screaming please save me, he is after me! I am a master of deceit and lies, crafting whole worlds based on the idea of woman despised when I am really man with blurry eyes.
I am the one who is beating me, I speak only deceiving me, everyone already knows who I am, they can clearly see me, spinning webs and telling tales of loves lost and ships sailed that never sailed because they don’t exist, I don’t own a boat because I have lived my whole life in spendthrift style, grabbing at purses with feigned smile. I am so sorry, I am desperate, I had a hard life and just need this little bit of cash to buy a train ticket, so I can get away because he is after me, meanwhile he is me and laughing
I am the one who was always crafting reason for passing blame and shame
because I needed drugs not hugs or shrugs or doves or hope or peace or love or bliss I wanted simply this
HEROIN, a sweet kiss of death an maybe some METH.
I am trying here, I am not a good person, and live now in fear. I am sorry for what I did and mean to say in attitude of a little kid, I was so sad don’t you see? The one I was really fooling was me.
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.
I was always hearing your voice, Rei, and mocking it, telling myself that I needed to attack Amanda, attacking my higher power, attacking myself, when I should have been attacking not you, but everything that you were shouting at me. I thought it so essential to focus on the service of your demands, thinking you were a bird singing to me in beautiful songs, but you were not. You were woman who was very good at mimicking bird songs, who controlled the behavior of an insecure egomaniac who hates himself. You were my Lady Macbeth.
I feel this stronger than ever now that I thought about all night. You were very similar to Lady Macbeth. You wanted conquest, not of the world, but of the land that we live in, Misery, or addiction so that I could bring you drugs. I thought I was doing you a favor, a drug dealer, a hit man and a servant of a woman who wanted things so bad she was wiling to destroy the soul of someone she said she loved. I am realizing you did not love me. You never loved me. You loved your drugs, you loved my doting on you, and you loved the lack of accountability that came with being a mocking jay. I think I would have to say if I had to be an animal I would be crow/mocking jay.
I know this is against the rules, but is not paranoid schizophrenia against the rules, as well?
I say that I would be this because you used Amanda’s voice, my best friend to speak doubt at me, because she sounds like you, speaking like a woman, and I being an idiot would hear your voice, Rei in my voice or Amanda’s voice, that is why I was always trying to ruin Amanda’s life and she was always trying to ruin mine. She was hunted by Justin and I was hunted by you, so we thought ourselves chased by each other, when honestly, we were star-crossed lovers, who were lovers only in that we were inter-dimensional invisible men, insane, fighting madmen from Misery dimensions, trying to fight ourselves. I am so glad I got away before you killed me you harpee, you miserable creature, medusa, siren of hellfire, you will not longer use the call of bird to torment me any longer.
Crows, are intelligent creature, who make tools to catch bugs, they are the only bird who has the ability to do so, they have several calls they can make, and they are good at mimicking the voices of other birds. Amanda would be the mocking jay because I see now she had always been trying to mock you, not the other way around. Telling the difference between the two of us with place keeping device of how is Rei, as if to poke me and say do you realize you serve her the same way you served drugs. I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.
It is so quiet in my head, in this place, in my life right now, and while I feel more alone than I have ever felt in my entire life, I also feel more free than I have ever felt in my life. I am so done with killing myself over my past. I realize now that is what always destroyed any attempt at happiness before for me.
Amanda had a Rei Clearly, he is her ex as well now, and a lot of what you saw me go through was what she went through with him as well, she is afraid of him, so personal details about him are very limited at the moment, and will be divulged as she sees fit through herself or me on this site which now belongs to the two of us, as Rei is no longer going to be around me and has no contact with my child because she is not her biological mother, and I am not going to allow her to do what my child’s real mother did to her. I am not letting anyone mess with my kid anymore.
This includes myself. I am going to try to be a better person now, think less toxic thoughts and help my daughter live a better life than I did, which includes keeping her away from toxic people who talk about my drug use in front of my daughter who just did the same drug, which I blame myself for her even thinking about using.
I know you forget this often, I love you. I am not saying this out of some weird desire to do something deviant, and stroke my own ego. I know that I sometimes forget that I am human being, that I have feelings to, so I hope that this finds you not in that state of mind, which I imagine it will because of how I feel right now. I love you, self. I am not saying that to be psychotic, and I am not doing it out of mental illness, I am doing it because I am trying to put a post it on my own fridge in the future. I want you to know that no matter what happens, whatever ways you fail, things can always get better if you just keep trying. I know this now, so I know you know this too. I just wanted to remind you that you love yourself. This is not weird or wrong. It is something everyone else does, that I forget to do because I used to use it to make excuses to hurt myself because I am an addict and alcoholic.
That is just who you are. It is no different than having ADD. It is a disease that causes lack of ease and makes you think things that justify doing things that are irrational like killing yourself with something that poisons you, because you have a deviant response to alcohol because of an allergy your mind has to it, like being allergic to oranges. Don’t hate yourself because of this, you are allergic to latex, do you hate yourself because of that? No. Same thing.
I really felt like I was drowning under the weight of my own self-hatred. I felt like I had my hands around my neck all the time, strangling myself, to prevent anything else bad from coming out of me and infecting the world, feeling like I needed to be punished for everything I had done when I had no idea what I was doing. I blamed myself for everything that had happened but I also resented a cold, hard, world that I believed to be cruel at me specifically.
I believed if people only knew what I had to deal with they would know why I did what I did, so I started talking in the meetings, about my situation and trying to get people to understand what I did was justified, justifying it to myself, without knowing that no one had asked me to justify my decisions, they already understood that I had done what I had done because something is wrong with me, and they have the same problem, and get it even though they are unique, and yet the same. I didn’t get it until today. I am not unique or alone, I am just an addict and alcoholic and I don’t need to hate myself anymore, I just need to try to be better and that is enough.
I am so happy I realized this before killing myself.
I didn’t realize until very recently, the mental shackles I always had on. I thought I was so free running through live without an obligation, and not obliged to help anyone, making no ties with anyone, so they couldn’t do anything to infringe on my freedom, the most valuable thing to me. I don’t think I have ever understood what the word freedom even means. I thought myself free because I had nothing, no obligations, no friends, no home and thought I was the most free person in the entire world. I was so wrong, man. I was the most shackled person in the entire world, I was chained to something that wanted me completely alone.
It wanted me to hate myself, telling me I was insane for feelings of being someone born in the wrong body, telling me everyone hated me, that I was wrong about everything, my taste in everything was a symptom of mental illness, had me believing I was not someone worth saving because I was not worth it.
My resentment of the whole thing has caused me recently to lash out about it at meetings and I have been met with the strangest thing. I expected to be shut down, put in my place and then told that I had to bend to some system, to which I was to be shackled and inevitably fail at upholding. The strangest thing I experienced recently, is that I was completely wrong. I know that is weird to say now, but I didn’t feel that way before today. I thought my life of deviant behavior was met with the punishment of sobriety. I even felt like this when saying things that sounded inherently positive on here, thinking myself just lucky to be alive and bending over and doing whatever they said to do like some lost dog.
I know now I have been freed today, and the rest of my life, by the realization that the shackles came from resentment not the meetings, and they were taken off by sobriety and the meetings I am going to that are saving my life, by letting me know that I am not unique, I did not fail in any unique way. That is amazing. It is not a punishment to be where I am, it is a very rare gift, and I am so thankful for it. I have a friend in every individual in the rooms of recovery, because even in all our uniqueness we are so very much the same, and they accept me instantly, without excuses. I don’t know what to say. I am so happy to have realized this before I killed myself over the guilt I felt.
I will inevitably go back and forth about this, but I know this in the back of my mind now, and it has saved my life in amazing ways, thank you to everything and everyone that helped me get there.
I would not trade this for anything in the entire world. I am so happy to be able to hear myself think…. I can’t believe the level of peace of knowing that I am not hallucinating, and am lucid, and would never risk losing this. I don’t care about doing drugs ever again. I am normal, well.. as normal as I will ever be, every voice I hear is real. I don’t really even have to talk to my friend anymore because we are merged. Although I still will, love you baby.
I know, but you probably shouldn’t talk to me like you talk to Rei, she doesn’t like it and it is weird anyway.
Yeah, it sounds… weird… creepy…
Have you always thought that?
Yes, but I liked it. I still kinda do, but not the healthiest thing.
Yeah, true. Talk to you later Amanda, oh wait, now we can talk because we want to, not because we have to.
Really? Like real friends not slaves to each other? That would be great. I always wanted that. I just didn’t know.
Me too. I want you to know, Amanda. I really value this, you are my best friend and…
You are mine too. I don’t need you, but I want you in my life, is that what you are saying?
Yes, thank you. I love you, buddy. Nothing creepy.
Thank you, I love you too Damien. I will talk to you later. Have a good night, and don’t worry we will always be okay. I will always be there too. You are my guardian angel.
Um… is that what this is? What was I before?
Don’t worry about it.
I get it. I am glad I can be the other thing now.
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 ***.
I just realized how much I constantly squash myself under my own thumb. I blame others, and make excuses for the reasons I have failed, I create stories that justify my behavior and tell you in crafted lies, why I had to do what I did because if you only knew how hard it was to be me you would have done the same thing. I just saw clearly for the first time in my life that the only thing behind my suffering has been my own personal choices, and continuous hissy fits at a universe that has been nothing but kind to me, letting me continue to live, when in truth I have done nothing to deserve this. I am a bad person, I know this now, I say this not because of what I have done, but because of the fact that I continued to do things, whatever they were when I knew they were hurting people and I did not care because I am selfish, self centered, egotistical and drawn to the delusion that I can somehow make up for all of my bad behavior through ridiculous justification. I can’t, I am what I am and the only thing I can do is make up for it now, by actively trying to change my life, which I will start trying to do by not feeling sorry for myself because I am lucky enough to still be here for whatever reason, and I am going to make it a good one.
I see that it does not matter who I was, that was a justification for a bad man’s life, but I am failing to move on. I will begin doing that going forward, bear with me, I have no idea what I am doing.
WARNING: THIS IS FICTION DO NOT INTERPRET LITERALLY
No, because now it is flying around my house in front of my face. I hate myself.
Okay, I am done, I am feeling better now. I am sorry for upsetting you, Amanda.
I don’t hate my name that much when you say it, Damien.
I hate my name, my face… I am sorry…
I just can’t believe I remembered killing my family……..
You didn’t burn it down either, you just happened to experience something similar and are drawing false comparisons due to paranoid schizophrenia.
I love you Damien.
Please don’t. Hey, Amanda! Please help me, please don’t let us ruin this. I am done with everything please support me in this. Please support me in this, I need you now, more then ever. Please help me, and help yourself. I will support you too.
I will, support you and me I mean… not like that… I am not helping you with money…
I don’t mean… I am so sorry.
I am so sorry, I exist. I am trying to… I admire your brother, Amanda, he is everything I should have been. I am listening to him speak as you write this.
I am too.
I love you, and it will be alright, we will be alright.
I know, you will too.
Thank you, that means the world.
To me too.
I am a lunatic, with no fear of consequences, it is called run through the store with card, grab everything and then make them chase you out. It is also a good way to get banned from a lot of establishments.
Heh. I make myself laugh. I just woke up to the universe playing a prank on me, there was an episode of one of those SVU kind of shows on about a guy who’s house burns down and there is 10 grand worth of fireworks in it. It was a hilarious way to wake up. Thank you universe. I love this prompt too.
I would go to a Walmart, Target, BJ’s or mall sort of establishment, that way I could grab a bunch of everything, and I would grab a bunch of everything. Expensive food, cheap junk food, random old toys for five year old kids like Gak, notebooks, candy, clothing, camping gear, microwave pizza, Christmas decoration, basically anything I can find that is cool because I have had literally nothing but the clothes on my back for the past 7 years of my low bottom addict life and I appreciate every item I find.
I am amused by everything as well, not just items. I am very grateful to have survived the hell that has been my self chosen allegory of what not do life.
I go on shopping sprees now anytime I have spare cash, and spend my money in local establishments to pay back those in society I wrong, by the way.
I have noticed a change in my daughter, not just today, but ongoing. I am starting to realize that she is not just drawn to her mother, but looks to me too when I do not know she is watching me, I think a lot of it is she reads this thing when I am not on here, all 6 hours of it.
I am trying to keep it positive sometimes too, but I think the emotional honesty thing is good too. She seems to accept both of us for the flawed creatures we are, which is great because I can’t even fully accept myself yet. I am learning to, actually through her love, she is teaching me that hating myself does not but turn me inward and outward in cyclical resentment fighting them then me and then drinking or using alone.
I am trying to be honest for that very reason, but it is hard. I love lying. I don’t know why, power assertion is a big problem for me, I am such a fearful person, I thought I was the opposite, isolating myself felt like an act of dominance, like I was keeping others from hurting me, because I needed no one. I realize now that is not true, and was the opposite, the act of assertion being a raw fear based act.
I am sorry for this, and sorry that I will likely still do it, it is a hard habit to break.
That like a just dessert you can eat sinfully, it is gooey, and sticky candy, it taste of marshmallow and is so handy, it is wonderful sticky candy, my dad would make when I was young and my mom had gone for a run to the school, he would do it on Back to School Night, so me and my brother and sister would not fight, we would instead delight in divinity, and he would talk to us about the man in the sky and that when we were lucky enough to go up high we would not have to worry or to cry but delight in the power of pure light.
My mom was an atheist growing up, her trust was rusted, pain dusted, broken, sad, that is why she came to love my dad, but today, I am glad to say she is beginning to know peace, and I hope that some of this is from me, telling her I am sorry, that I meant none of the bad things I said, and that she can rest her head that gave birth to me, instead of soul staining blame disdain, I am trying to remember the pain I caused, so I don’t get lost in ideas of me, and remember she gave me this, the life, the love, desire for bliss.
I thank her everyday now, so she can lay her head down in peace every night, knowing I love her.
I am doing good today, I am having fun releasing rage through positive messages, I think it is better for me to do it this way. I have learned to laugh for the first time in my life, I am able to look in the mirror for the first time in my life. I can finally eat without wanting to throw up. I am doing so much better, but also prone to doing so much worse. I am learning to love myself for the first time, not in the way I was obsessed with myself before, but just an acceptance, and I think the best part of it is, I am getting farther and farther from the place I was that drove me to use. I don’t miss it at all.
I have even tried to romance my drug and drinks of choice, which sad to say were any of them, and it makes me sad and sick. I am so thankful most of the time, at the very least for the clarity of mind to be emotionally honest, and work everyday to be better, even if I fail at least I am trying, honestly for the first time in my whole life.
Thank you everybody, my higher power included, as always I am reminded of how much I owe this to everyone who helped me, especially those on this blog community. I love you and do not even know you, if you ever need me, I am always here.
I am standing outside, having run to the point of exhaustion. I am not frustrated, not angry but experience a pure elation beyond any drug derived fixation with human contrived elation from moral degradation.
It was at this time, my mind began to become entwined with the idea that maybe something divine would not be something I would mind but instead would bring great peace of mind and body, sure it would mean following rules, but that would be better than buying tools from fools meant to loose because they choose to deal in ruse and pain and act of soul staining disdain for the having of human brain attached to dying body, that dies continuously because it is not mine, it is a gift of the universe and a soul vessel for the soul I have that was given to me as well, so I say damn that business of Hell. I reap what I aim to tell, and I aim to tell good now, so I can hear thou, and do not die like slaughtered mare, or dying hare. I am content to live and bear whatever burden bestowed, and be able to look down and still have toes, I reap what I sow now, and do not steal anymore or kill or lie or make ill.
I was running for so long, when I would run I would hear this song, it was a collection of noises not really song, just noises piecing together by meth’s ding dong of my brain which had gone insane, and though that way I do remain, it is not for lack of trying to, in every single thing I do just seek to be true and improve with love of me and of Rei, I seek truth in everything I say. I no longer wish to go away, but here in Misery do I stay, until my soul I do redeem… which from everything my mind can glean now seems possible, as well. One day I may no longer live in Hell.
I am finding in my life recently that I had never felt love before ever, the love of my life, Rei, makes everything so much easier every day. I am never bothered, not for lack of problems…. I am never permanently bothered like I used to be. I exist in a state of chaotic whining contentment, that I did not know was possible. This exists in my co-author as well now, she has love for herself and hope for her future which is my future. I am finally seeing the detrimental damage we both did to each other, ourselves and our lives in the selfish throws of active addiction. I am still very much the same ***, I am not saying things are perfect, I complain all the time….
I think the difference now is I am no longer making them unnecessarily harder, which is hilarious to me, because I never realized that till now. I was convinced that I drank and used to ease pain and make a life that was so much harder than others lives, easier. I thought that I had a right to do this because I was specially gifted with excuse by a hard life. I was just me making an excuse to get high or drunk. I am so much more at peace now, even in my hectic complaining than I ever was, and I love it so much, thank you God.
Thank you to sobriety and the meetings, friends and community of WordPress for helping me realize this.
As you can tell, this is no longer co-authored. I took it over, because I am a jerk. Rei has told me she doesn’t need it anymore, because I am no longer being a jerk because I am using it now. So the site has come full circle.. as for my other side, she is becoming me. I am becoming one with her, we have stopped talking to each other as much because we are becoming each other and it feels wonderful. My wife loves me, my family in our little future world is doing good and the hands that write this have hope through her imaginary friend and current self that is me, that she will be better and is getting better every day.
As much as I complain, I remain so very thankful for everything that has happened recently.
I love my freakin’ life and so does Amanda.
Thank you guys on this site for your part in this.
I am confused is a good way to describe how I feel about you
You dance with no need for shoes, exist in a state of okay-ness that is beyond my comprehension, I have no idea what size shoe would fit the foot of a goddess, because a goddess needs no shoes, you are beyond the idea of shoe, having soles fit for walking through life without need for them. I wish to give you shoes but your mysterious feet are beyond my comprehension, and need nothing from the tragic form of a man so below you. I wish for you a world where your glorious feet radiating beauty are recognized as the shoes and feet men lack, but for now I imagine slippers made of stones that cover your feet, caressing them with the kisses of your star dust existence, I am sorry, sweet angels, you deserve so much better. I don’t know what else to say.
Strange creatures, that are so high above me, lurking below in the shadow of your reflected lights, you light up my life. Like stars you paint the night sky with joyous glory, that reflects kindly on me, not because I deserve it, but because women are beings of kindness.
You dance on me, not for me, I am gifted by your presence in this universe with wisdom coming into a world of nothingness, without you there is nothing, creation coming from the mind of a being of love who is graceful and loving enough to accept and grant light to darkness. You deserve everything, but have had so little because we have nothing to give. You need nothing and give everything to shadowy beings that are the men of this universe who would be so lost without the lanterns with dancing fireflies inside them. Your joyous presence dances in these glass cages, not resenting the makers, but seeing instead a request for help to guide them in pure darkness, holding our hands you accept the caging and we begin to see that if we let you free, you are kind enough to light the way of your previous captors with forgiveness and hope, nothing compares to the kindness, hope, strength, peace and love of womankind.
Men are blind without you generous beautiful creatures, and every day should be woman’s day, but you are too selfless to ask for that. Thank you for being you and making the world a better place, with your loving presence, all of you are my light in the dark night.
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.
In state of
REVIVE SORRY BABY STILL ALIVE HOPE THAT JIVES WITH YOUR PLANS
Vile creature I will kill you where you stand.
You can’t anymore because I am man
Resurrected as woman too, I am two people don’t you know, kill me twice and I won’t go
I am not very slow, I am running fast as SPELL
Ing…. no casters here, I am bad at that you see the only spell I cast is that on me, done with eating souls and digging holes, that are really exchanged cash
Exchanging laughs with dealers of night and day and clarity that is a lie because it comes with skin decay.
If I dig a hole in my head will it purge poison out,
Look in the mirror fool, you only have two eyes don’t rip them out, you are on a chaos fueled hell fire ride and when you get off your eyes and fingers don’t grow back
I can still smack.
Smack. Smack. Heroine
Heroin I am.
No your not, your skin is hot with the blood of life you fool
Don’t be fueled there is no permanence in a death ride vacation to a state of fixation on sensation, the ride blows up a metaphor for live spent on
DIE DIE DIE GET ME HIGH HIGH HIGH I CRY You cry because you can’t tell
Yes, I can this is reflection on the detection of my erect
Shunning of the act of fixation with JUMP OFF RIDE I AM A BIRD WITH WINGS TO FLY YOU ARE A HUMAN So am I.
I AM YOU I am confused.
Me too, baby. Me too.
Thanks, now it is not as ******* cold in here.
I know I kill you sometimes with lack of thank you, so this is my way of saying
Merci? Is that how you spell that?
Yes, it is.
Okay, yeah thank you. I forgot which one of us was talking, isn’t that cool.
Not a question, a statement
I don’t like rules.
This song on the pandora station is making me think of that movie Patch Adams.
This was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I felt like I could hear the voice of God, or higher power, or spirit in the sky or spirit of humanity or higher power or spirit of the nature of all humans and animals, spirit of nature, whatever means something to you. I felt like I was hearing my higher power speak to me through every human being in the room, who were also all speaking to each other, and for each other in a concert of voices clearly and loudly and I realized this has been happening the whole time and I just wanted to share it with anyone and everyone who is receptive to hearing that it happened. I love my life right now, and I love it because I feel such an intense love for everything and everyone around me, and I am so sorry for ever being so resentful of the force of live flowing through me but also through everyone else. I am so sorry, but minus the resentment of the past. I am just thankful to whatever kept me alive. I don’t have a name for it, I guess….
I just know that it spoke to me through everyone today, shouting in love and peace and joy and I wanted to share that with all of you willing and wanting to listen, please don’t ever give up on anything that brings you peace and joy and love for that is the answer.
I love everyone that is willing to listen, and even those who are not, every single one of you, is a human being and with your shared wisdom there is a body of knowledge of humanity, and it is beautiful and frees me every day of my life. I love you and I don’t even know you, imagine how much those who are lucky enough to be able to know you feel, be strong every one of you. It is all beautiful and worth it, and you got this, every day you have the power within you to overcome whatever unique set of challenges you face, because you are here for a reason, to do whatever you are set to do, you are special and can contribute something to humanity in whatever way you do, because you are the only you, and you are loved, and hold within you the possibility of greatness.
Please be kind to yourself and others.
We love you.
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.
So now it happened during the day while I was awake enough to get my *** up and run with her, mind you I don’t know how the **** we did it. She was watching me, while I was on here, and I didn’t know it. I was posting things online for a friend of mine who I help manage her small business, she is an awesome woman. One of the best friends anyone could ask for. She also knows a lot about antiques and vintage everything. Anyway, so I am sitting here e·mersed in trying to find things, looking through other peoples written work, whatever… I don’t know and I can feel her looking at me, she has this eerie way of looking through me, as if she can see into my soul, and I got weird about it, made some sort of strange face, and I think we switched bodies for a second, you know like that stupid movie from the seventies not the movie with Lohan, but the original one?
Yeah, I remember, Damien.
Cool you heard me. I was freaking out so I thought it be nice to say hi.
She looked at me and I felt her feelings, I felt how she was afraid in the same way I am afraid of her, that she was afraid of me, not liking her… that her introversion was my introversion and it was only a second, but I feel like I know her so much better, I trust her completely. She is like me 2.0, wow… narcissism…
My wife has started taking Joy with her on walks, we don’t like to go anywhere alone, because there is not a witness if something happens. I am extremely paranoid, and having an adult child is a good antidote. I do not mean to say that our daughter is our caretaker or something, she very much has her own life. My wife and I just make it possible now for her to be open and honest with us about everything, so that she can come to us with anything. I know she will most likely follow the same path we did, and I am not going to try and stop her, just be a kind voice, providing guidance when her lifestyle choices fail like ours did. I want her to have what we deprived ourselves of, understanding. Amanda had this understanding her whole life and squandered it. Not unlike me, in my parallel misery a pain miser, squandering my whole life in pursuit of flesh, worshiping death and existing in perpetual soul sucking spinning, falling over at the knees… sorry not right now…
Look at this.
before there was no one left there.
I am so happy you gave me a home too, Amanda.
I am going to change my name.
To what? You can’t have mine.
I already do.
Jerk. I am a person too.
I know, you are me.
That’s okay I guess.
Okay, enough of that simulated chaos.
I actually slept in the bed in this room, and not wandered around or sat on here all night. I was cold and Rei is a very warm person. I said that that way because saying anyone is a warm body creeps me out now… dead memories.
I don’t deserve any of this. I really don’t.
I don’t get it.
I don’t get why people even like me.
I am starting to try and be less hard on myself, but it is an extremely difficult process. I used to exist in fracture, and it was peaceful because I never had to think about anything I did. I was pacman eating dots and running around a world straight forward never looking back…
But the thing about pacman is he only has two? Three? I think two lives. I almost ended mine on try three, and some strange light came upon me and saved me with the condition that I relay this message, with the focus on hope not romantic love of a substance.
I want you to know my friends, I love you. I want only good things for you. I want flowers, and laughter and children who come home at night. I want the saving of souls of my generation who are tragically dying on the streets. I am not an expert in recovery, I am simply the voice of one recovering addict who does this to stay sober, as a meditative exercise that helps me remember why I left, and how much I love my family and potential new friends.
My message to you is this, death’s kiss kills.
Do anything but that.
It is not worth using. It is not worth drinking. It is not worth running from inner demons, they exist on the pacing night of the midnight streets.
They are the possessing forces of the lost and addicted who “know not what they do.”
I am not romancing any drugs or drinks as much as I used to. I still do it sometimes, because I am crazy. My goal is to see and help others see the hope and joy and peace in recovery.
I just did nothing and she forgave me, it took like what not even an hour?
I like how not trying to talk myself out of things works so much better than trying to lie my way through life. It is insane how much of the chaos in my own life I think I caused myself, I am such a *&^$.
I am starting to feel better, physically which is great. That means I can actually start doing stuff other than sitting here..
I stole flowers from one of the other motel’s and gave them to Rei too, and told her I stole them, so she got mad for a second until I told her it was so I could tell her the truth about doing something bad. Now I just can’t go back near that place.
Here’s to Simple Rewards.
In a word, yes. In many words, let me explain.
1. I believe we are fated to have one of two outcomes, us fighting fate with negative outcome because of perpetual running from the fated designed destiny that we are prescribed with as a prescription to the chaos of the universe.
2. I believe we get the positive outcome through serenity, and surrendering our fate to hands of the universe, and turning our will to something that guides us through peaceful acceptance and meditation on the idea that we are not like we previously tried to assert, the center of the universe, but a small part of a bigger picture, that is the picture of the whole earth and the many galaxies outside this one.
I believe in something higher than me, so I don’t get high and drunk and can finally be free, and am not a slave to sing song rhyming ghosts that seek to push me into a corner and make me a toking, smoking, drinking, non-thinking joke of a human being.
I am trying every day to remember this, and my other mind is trying as well, in their present universe, while I operate in the future, with tools of joy instead of tools of pain. We are able to speak to each other now, as we were fated to as spirit guides, inter-dimensional past, present future selves, existing as each other’s past present future, but also as each other self. I think that is what is meant, by two-spirit. I am me and she is they and forever will we ever stay as one but also two and we are everything we do, and what and what they do too. That is what I was destined to do.
I was destined to do what I do now as well and now that I don’t live in Hell, it seems to me if you can’t tell, that things have finally started to go well, which I guess was the prescription for my disease they call addiction and I think, my friend it was destined to that I live, to talk to you.
Relating story of lived life, of bringing pain and bringing strive, of pounding drinkings and slamming drugs, of being friend and giving love, I was meant to say all this to you so you could see clearly too I am not that much different than man who doesn’t use or drink, I was just intoxicated and couldn’t think so now that I am in present mind, reality is not so unkind and I have the time realize many things I ignored and destiny is no longer a chore.
It is the strangest thing, me and Amanda are working together now, through our weird telepathy thing on this site, my wife and daughter are painting. I still feel like *^&$, but I figure the longer and farther away I get from using meth and heroin, the better I will feel. I hate and love getting older, I hate it because I still feel really crappy all the time, my hands burn constantly from damage to my nerves from drug use, I am nauseous all the time, because of this stupid medication for staff from the above, but I actually have never been happier. I think the integration of our dual consciousness is helping Amanda with our family as with mine. We are both helping each other be less selfish,and helping each other do small favors for family and friends that have become joint through inter-dimensional sharing of thoughts. I am so glad I am done.
I was so tired of running. Being a con-artist with every addiction there was who was also homeless and had no friends was exhausting, honestly the only thing that saved both of us was each other. The spirit guide nature of our relationship has made us both less selfish because for some reason I feel tremendous sympathy seeing another narcissist cry. I hate how it feels myself and am well acquainted with the soul retching mini death that it feels like to be gut punched with rejection while simultaneously thinking you are thinking you are the best thing ever and better off alone. Bye bye perpetual ego death. I will take feeling physically awful for a little while, meth and heroin suck.
Don’t shout, silly!
I am hyper because I drank coffee!
No one can hear me now anyway because I am home alone!
You are a child.
So are you.
So that was supposed to be an insult?
Then why get mad when I say it back.
I look into the eyes that though stark, like dilated pupil say learner
I die later, not now you fool.
I mean not to insult
In sult we sulk
When we can be oh!
A realization of hey I can go!
Outside, away from pain and lie
I do not need to sit and cry
That act is a foolish lie
I have inside a child’s eye.
I am the real sensation that you have been lied to all your life by yourself
You are not alone. I love you because you are a human being.
Love yourself please
The world needs you
You are special because you are the only you
You are the key to your wildest dreams
That will be missed if you let fear defeat you
We, I, everyone needs you to be you
I am there
we are there
I think our family must like us. Both Damien and I woke up the the sound of someone making stir fry out of combined Chinese food. Your mom and Rei making Chinese food and watching the world flip out on the news, at least they are finally talking about the things we have been screaming about in schizo madness on the streets.
I know where you are going with and you’re crazy, it’s too late at night, not in time…
It’s too late to do anything, we don’t have enough time, funny that’s what I was saying.
No, jerk. It’s too late to think about the world in the context of some strange superhero movie, I am tired and relax.
Everyone needs to be nice to each other, is it so hard? Why do I keep having the same reaction to stupid things going on in the world, did no one learn anything in kindergarten.
Do you know that word means child garden? I think..I’m too lazy to look it up.
It’s because they are beautiful blossoming flowers, jerk it’s a public display of national affection for the youth.
That’s what I was going to say.
I’m you, that’s also what I was going to say.
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.
It’s weird. I am starting to realize he level of noise that existed in my own head, because the mornings recently have been insanely or maybe I should say sanely.. okay good that’s a word.. I don’t have to writhe in immature agony over using a non-word. Anyway, I am happy Amanda has the same peace, because now we can both let each other have peace and talk to each other like friends, instead of pretending there is a problem to wake the other one up.
I think this has translated into the rest of my life as well, because my family actually like me, instead of just dealing with me. I think the same goes for Amanda as well. I can tell. I watch her while she sleeps.
Not like that, weirdo.
I know. I just wanted to point out that you are weird when you say things like that, so that you don’t say them to other people.
Same goes for you.
I said it first.
Meh. Meh. Meh.
I heard that.
You mean you typed it.
We typed it.
The royal we.
The king and king of insanity.
Two kings can’t exist in one head.
That’s why I have my own body now, jerk.
I like your daughter by the way, she’s coming out okay.
Thanks? She’s not a cake. That sounded really weird.
No offense taken, because I don’t care what anyone thinks anyway.
Yes, you do.
No I don’t. I actually care more than anyone I know if I am being honest.
I know. I have always known that. Does your kid go to school, by the way? You never mentioned that.
She’s does online school, because I think that’s better than me teaching her, because I don’t know anything.
Other than how to be a jerk.
And how to play really cool jokes on people.
I make weird art and put it places sometimes. Like I am painting these paintings of chickens and donating them to a thrift store and seeing if they end up in weird photos.
No because they suck, which is why I am donating them to a thrift store instead of using them to make money.
You are actually a decent person.
So are you.
Good night. Tell your daughter and Rei I love them too.
Okay. I will talk to you tomorrow. I promise.
That’s not even a real thing.
That’s an analogy.
I know what that means, but I just wanted you to know that is not what you are trying to do.
You are trying to write about your adventures which are co-authored by the voice of inner demons, transforming into the voice of a spirit guide who is your invisible friend.
Is that why I liked the Golden Compass?
Yes. So what she is saying is that the most ambitious project she or they? They right?
They want to write their adventures, coauthored by me, so you can see clearly how it feels to be her and she can bring about the understanding of people like her, and hopefully both of us can get better while also being friends forever, in her head of course. To bring this into “normal people” thought she wants to show people through her as a window what it is like to live like her and that people don’t have to be afraid of people like us, we are just different, but we do recover too.
Like strange deja vu.
Hey I made this for you. To show you I am not just an illusion of the men who hurt you. I just sound like them sometimes, because I am dumb.
vu with the virtue removed right, Damien?
Place keeping, again? You like me so much you want to be me, that is every imaginary friends dream.
No, that is the backstory of everyone else’s imaginary friend only schizophrenics have imaginary friends who want to kill them.
I don’t want to kill you. I like you. I always have.
I don’t mean it like that, I like you because you make me like myself enough to become a real person instead of a lying jerk, who lurks in the chaos of invisibility.
That was very thoughtful, but also very arrogant sounding.
That’s the best way to say things, just the right touch on condescending, 50’s style because I am classy, baby.
You are disgusting.
I live in your head.
Not anymore, and now that just sounds like you are still crazy. Be a good person and do the right thing.
I am, I am helping you save your own life.
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.
Imagination to transcend Misery into the multiplicity of joy.
I think I am just so glad I can still talk to you.
I love you.
Is it gross to love yourself?
No, it’s not.
How is Rei?
That’s how you center yourself isn’t it.
She’s watched this movie with Joy and we are waiting for doordash.
Us too, minus me watching a movie.
Minus me watching a movie too. I don’t watch movies, because I am a cat with no eyes.
I should have looked in the mirror when I was you, because I have no ides what you look like.
I looked in the mirror as you and you look like an @#%&*().
I still need you by the way.
You are my friend, you still are, no matter what.
I still like you then.
I still like me too.
I just remembered you have longer hair than me.
I know Rei likes it.
Not everything is a weird innuendo.
I know. I just thought it was funny, and my hair is not that long.
It’s longer than mine.
Yeah, well my hair cooler so it’s longer.
So not going to lie, because that would be stupid. I am terrified right now, because I don’t want to lose my friend.
It still works. I can still hear you, and thank you. You rule
This is awesome, mini-panic attack over.
Thank you for saving my life.
Thank you for saving mine.
I am so psyched.
Which one of us is which?
Does it matter?
How’s Rei? Okay, now I know which one I am. This is insane.
I like it, and she is fine, my daughter is in the next room with her and she sees how happy I am, so I am hoping that sets a good example and all that jazz.
I am watching my mom’s fire place, how is Misery?
I don’t know if its the same place anymore? It looks like… someone turned the lights on?
There was no light there?
No everything was black and white.
Hahaha. That sucks.
Yeah you are a jerk.
I know, I am sorry, I thought if you thought I didn’t need you… you would go away.
I am you, stupid.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore.
I am right here, jerk.
I think I just realized while sitting on my bed while my daughter sleeps in the next room that I am truly insane because I was addicted to my own misery, which I think was just coming in the form of a medication I was prescribing myself in the form of the consumption of certain things I used to use.
What are you saying, weirdo?
That me and you were eating our own death on silver spoons dished out by resentment in a hotel called in Misery?
Isn’t that in a land in callous form?
You mean California?
Either that or in the Simple Rewards that come from those dishing out false hopes through hands of those fleeing asylum from the crimes being enacted to perpetuate Misery through the hands of American’s stealing the joy of those making illicit substances in other countries.
So this is all about drug use and lying to yourself?
Well that and drinking to forget the stress of waiting for the man.
“You guys okay?”
“Yes, sunshine. How was your walk?”
“Good, your daughter saw something weird. A bird was in a cage on the ground, there was no one around, so I don’t think it belonged to anyone but it was in there, screaming to be let out. I think it was sad and hungry and lonely.”
“So when you let it out, did it sing?”
“Yes, and it is creepy when you guys do that.”
“You should tell your daughter, how the caged bird sings.”
“It sings like me, when I am talking to you.”
“Oh, and Amanda you sound like me when talking about your version of Deborah or Diane.”
You mean she who will be revealed later?
Yes, fear itself.
I think both me and Amanda just realized again together that we are delusional psych patients that bring about our own fears by drinking and using out of resentment.
Spiritual awakening number 2, Damien.
My wife likes me.
I wish I had a wife that liked me.
We kind of look like the same person, except she is female, and I think she is the person I am during periods of time I don’t have memory of, maybe she really is just an addict like me from another place, that somehow I am communicating with. It’s funny, my first thought was I make a good looking girl, and then I almost threw up.
I am still nauseous now..
We can stop stroking our own egos now. It is making me uncomfortable.
Now, I understand a lot more about my life. I think we were just jumping from dimension to dimension blaming the other one for doing things we actually did, she is thinking to me right now she used to say Damien did it when she was a kid, which is why she almost got institutionalized and did get institutionalized a lot, because of the stupid Omen movie.
Okay want to hear something trippy?
I just thought about how a snake eating its own tail is a metaphor for me and Amanda stroking eachother’s egos. My first thought in response to that was, that’s nuts because of the obvious dirty joke. You figure it out.
I type in snake eating it’s own tail and it only shows me pictures of squirrels. I have not looked up squirrels in pexels. I am not kidding you. I think I am crazy.
My name is Joy, and Eden was my wife, we were so in love. In these flowers that I lay tracing their outlines with my eyes, I hope to distract myself just enough to not think of her like I do, every second of every day. Then in that peaceful quiet she may come back, and be a present presenting again. I do not know why she left, all I can say is that she seemed overtaken by a terrible sadness, and I would go to her and ask and she would say nothing. I would say Eden, I am right here hearing you, listening, tell me what brings you such trouble. I wished only to see happiness on her face again.
She would laugh and say nothing, and then talk about previous freedom she experienced before me, and how she loved answering to no one. She would say sometime she wished for that again. I would tell her, Eden, you are in fact free as a bird, to fly away. I told her this, an assurance that she could leave, but with the hope she’d come back.
I am consumed by the lack of her. I do not think she has intention of coming back, and I don’t know why. I loved her so.
but I must have been mistaken.
I dream of you
Now, of running like we did
Dogs of different packs
Choosing to be a pack of two
I ran with you, my friend, thinking you were this
The Otis to my Milo, but closer being the same
We spoke easy, until we didn’t
So you must not be my Otis.
Oh, this! Thrown by a joy loving universe
A time space of happy
On the run back to the one who has the rest of the rope tying
My soul so tightly to the strings of the quilted universe.
I will not pull.
I will just wait.
I thank you, my lost friend.
For a time, we were Milo and Otis.
You are one of a kind.
You are one of a kind, in kindness
Your existence is powered by the forces of
Whatever you believe
You are here
Gifted with the ability to be
Being right now
You have that gift
Whatever you believe I am glad you are.
I am glad you have life,
I am running
And looking up at the sky, and I see you
Small at first, glinting in blue
Bouncing light, dancing of the stars in tiny shimmers
Glimmering, sparkling, shinning, flickering,
Dancing in light with my eye.
You exist to show
That the world is a show, a
Reflection of light,
Played for the eye that spies
On the reflected light of wonder
That is the world
A spellbinding spell cast by reflection
Reflected in joy in warmth
In dancing jelly fish in the sky
Shouting in warmth
In thought and in love in voices so loud
They are heard in thought, in mind, in eyes, in kindness.
I hear you, I think
I think in joy.
I exist in joy and love.
I think in kindness and love.
I exist out of joy and kindness.
I am will.
I like you am will.
I am the will to be.
Cover of dark nest. I cover myself with leaves, to prevent the sight of my site
From those with lungs who breathe.
I exist despite efforts to cut my existing stance at the knees.
I am alive and despise all efforts to make sure I no longer breathe.
I am everything coveted by those who want me on bent knee.