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.
Toss me please, I am too quiet. I am addicted to the act of rioting sole, soul unsound, bound to condescending pretending to be okay,
Okay, yes please stay, so I can hate you, always and forever, be my friend, so we can fight about nothing over and over again.
I am addicted to the sound of my own voice, addicted to the idea that I had no choice, but to do exactly what I did,
RUIN MY **** life.
I shine with the act of this is mine.
I never look behind, I never look forward.
I am lilly pads, I don’t have eyes.
I can’t sit still, must make ill, must engage in perpetual
With dark fate, with my own hate, of myself, I don’t know why, don’t care anymore really, this was fun to write that is all.
You are so much better
You glow in a dark world
You are so much more than anything
I could ever be
You seem so happy and care free, thinking about happy things, and living free and givingly, wondering why bad things happen, questioning why me? Why them?
I envy you, the constant debate of free soul floating through life in conversation with self and human being.
You do not understand what lurks beneath, and sometimes I wish I did not either.
You walk on the ground, looking up, not casting eyes down. I
am forever in a swamp.
I cast my heads up, I have two I think, two headed dragon, I think, fire breathing darkness lurker.
I hide in shadows, because I scare you, I say things and you look at me like this, like a creature with multiple heads, are there places for three headed dogs?
I don’t know..,
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 just look. I am constantly watching, and have been granted the ability to continue to be. I talk to the powers that be all the time. They speak back because I talk to them, nothing more nothing less. I am very prone to screaming at the sky, joking with sky and smiling at the sky. I also talk to the air, to the birds, to animals, to the stars, and to every human who talks to me. I fear no one because I feel that my point is to be until I am not. I have always felt this way.
I falter in that I am an addict. I assert my will when trying to acquire things that make me forget that I see things that no one notices, because they aren’t watching. I almost died a lot in my life, I am very prone to foxhole prayers, making deals with the spirit in the sky and then breaking them. I think that has been my problem. I am hoping that through me writing this, people get to see what I saw, see it is real, and understand the screaming night criers out there, our reality is just as real we are just awake at hours people aren’t and we listen to a force no one else bothered to ask what to do, or we are consumed by another one which overpowers you and drives to act in pure will assertion, I have called this Misery thus far. It is the desire to force will to get what you want at all cost, it is pure will assertion that dominates a person and forces everything to bend to it.
Misery is derived from the word miser. That is what I have been, that is what I fight to change.
When thinking about this the word avarice is pounding in my mind, don’t know why but, I looked it up on this etymology site and this is what came up.
This all seems to suggest to me that will assertion is what is to be avoided and that if we flow with ebb and pull of the universe it will be revealed what we should do.
I forget sometimes, that I have glasses, getting up in the middle of the night and crashing into walls because I did not put them on. I walk without them frequently and cannot see clearly, because I have gone without them before, for years when in active addiction.
The eyes of others, guide me, but I am paranoid, debating internally with universe, I question intention constantly, seeing things they don’t and debating with myself what is real while they are just walking down a street undisturbed, knowing none of what I am doing in my mind, while they walk peacefully next to me.
I clean my lenses, real glasses not metaphoric often, caught in an OCD futility of see clearly, forgetting that I see things others do not, and I am left to wonder, am I noticing things that matter or do they only matter to me?
I think what I am trying to say or what I was trying to say in the last post can be best expressed through a straight line connecting these three concepts, and my first reaction to this drawn out this way is time is the answer, but I wanted to know what the rest of you think, if there is something else there, and if I am overthinking or under thinking this….
This is just one those ideas that has always confused me. I am a very strong willed person, and I am always wrong about everything… I know this, and I keep doing the same stupid crap and can’t seem to catch that I am doing it till after I have already done it, I am wondering I guess… if there is anyone who has experienced this, and has a way to slow themselves down before they jump off a proverbial cliff and realize they made a mistake?
I want to make the lives of those around me easier, so I can learn to be better in an easier way, without having the others around me suffer, which is why I am doing any of this at all.. but I was wondering if there is something I don’t know… or if it really is something that just gets easier with time.. I have asked my in person friends as well, and am just interested in a bunch of different responses, because I don’t the answer to this.
I am so happy about being able to look in the mirror for the first time in my entire life, I used to not look in the mirror because it would cause me to hallucinate and literally trap me in the bathroom for hours unaware of time passing tearing holes in my skin so my face would be destroyed, it didn’t work, I have no scars, haha… damn vanity. The one face scar is from when my friend bashed my head repeatedly into a table, I was on meth, heroin and drank a liter of vodka, so needless to say, I felt nothing. It was pretty fun? I don’t think that is the right word, bad***? I was just laughing at him manically, spitting the blood back in his face, telling him I had hep c, which I have no idea if I have or not, still waiting for the results…
It’s funny because he has hep c. He yells back in my face I gave it to you, and I look him in the eye laughing and spit in his eye. I blacked out after that, and the cops came, tried to raid our basement, and I told them I had fallen down the stairs, and they shouldn’t worry because if they remembered correctly I fell down the stairs all the time and they never showed up before, they have a habit of waiting to long to show up and my friends die while waiting, so I am a little bitter…
I don’t know where I was going with that… oh yeah, I have a scar across my head from it.
That same weak my dog bite one of my fingers in half and i duck tapped it back together and then had it removed later because it got infected shooting heroin.
That’s all I can think of right now…
We each have one and a half. We made a deal to get more soul in exchange for helping people and we used our gift to manipulate people to get high or drunk or whatever we wanted.
Right. I remembered it last night, think about those guys we met named the squanders.
Remember that weird thing they said?
We are the descendants of the kingdom of Saul.
No, I knew this.
Not nice. I am just glad I remembered this, because I think I might be able to do the right thing this time.
So who are you really?
I am you, but more about that later.
Okay. Good night, you deal with this now.
Too bad it took me countless atrocities to figure that out, thankfully I didn’t lead my friend through the same moral decay I had to experience to come out the other side. I am stronger, so I took the bullets for her and used them to kill her enemies, actually I like slicing a lot more than bullets, they make sound and I am a wimp that is scared by loud sounds, it’s really funny in a dark way, seeing someone shoot someone and then jump and almost shoot themselves in the foot, which I haven’t done yet… thankfully.
I may have to though, use a gun in my universe of metaphor, but to protect my universe until we merge con·scious·ness, I don’t know how to spell that word either… oh poetic irony… how I love myself… gross….
I think its awesome that… wait wow..
We just actually merged consciousness for a second… see me spell you right now word…
It was cool for second I was three places at once,
past, present, future, no there aren’t more invisible jerks..
That was kind of like… other things.. %^&% my knee and staff infections… which is really ^%$& me and my use of things that sting my soul.
Bee stings should be avoided because my soul writhes in agony, not in the a religious sense, but in a mini-death nietzsche kind of way…. can’t spell that word either…. and I don’t care about capitalizing names that are not my own… oh and bang. This came up when I looked that up.
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster.”
I am so happy I remembered parts of that right now, not just for the ego points, but it means something to me. I think I am in the process of becoming a person instead of the monster under Amanda’s bed which means the instead of chasing dragons, Amanda can be me because I am not a drug or a dragon anymore.
Rei and I are doing better now that she doesn’t think I want sleep with myself anymore. That also means I am doing better too, because now I don’t want to sleep with myself anymore either. I remember that being the best way to break up with people ever. ‘I don’t need you, I can drink and do drugs and talk to myself for the rest of my life!’ Oh, to the lack of loneliness of an alcohol, addict recovering from addiction, and trying to establish sense of self in a chaotic world, while also trying to recover from psychotic delusions and battle health problems made worse by addiction.
Blah blah blah… my life is harder than everyone else’s you sound like the worst people in the rooms of recovery.
I know I am on a roll right now. Swish.
What does bowling have to do with basketball.
I don’t know I am not much into sports, except the blood sport.
You mean running away from drag racers, while preforming stunts at drag races?
That was fun wasn’t it?
Yeah, but we are done with that now.
Ever forget which version of yourself was talking?
Me, too buddy.
I still have consciousness too you know, even though he is cooler than a spirit of ‘bad faith’ look it up. I am not going to bother explaining it… meh.meh.meh. I am smart meh.meh.meh.
I think I just put that in her to say that, can’t remember where I was going with that, oh yeah right… I sound like him now, a serial killer that doesn’t exist who is my imaginary friend ate a soul I made up for society because I wanted people to like me, and he’s actually more like me than I thought, because I was nothing but an act of bad faith, bam. Arrogance.
I just wrote something so disgusting I deleted it. Done.
I don’t know how to explain this to someone not in our current predicament, but I can see through Amanda’s eyes and she can see through mine, see clearly in fact. 😉
I liked it.
Have you noticed the change in the voice of misery, oh that I think might have been me and Amanda speaking, with both of us thinking through superstition that the other was demonic. I am very superstitious and so is she, both of us had Catholic grandparents. I never met mine, or did I?
I read this, and I am trying to wrap my head around it, and it is giving me a headache, so read it if you aren’t lazy like me. I am posting this mostly as a mental note for myself to research with Amanda later, I have friends!
I think the main thought I had when glancing, albeit briefly at the article is that Diane is not a character in the same story as me and my friends, but a point of fracture, and that my main objective may be to get out of Misery and get back to regular life, great analogy right? Aren’t we clever?
Stop being gross.
But, seriously what if that’s what it is that is causing my problems? That I have been worshiping false idols and got myself stuck here in a fractured half version of earth and that is why time goes by faster here?
I am speeding by nature, I don’t even need to do drugs.
Must figure out how to handle Diane.
I got nothing.
I just really scared myself. I am not going to explain how, because I don’t want to do it to you. Don’t look up negative things online.
I am deviant creature, I pretend to be a great teacher, I speak through the addict as preacher, I am of infernal design because I am not kind and write of the peril of men and women like me, because I am the blind one I cannot see that who I am undoing is me. I am going insane, merely documenting my brain, and its moral decay.
I live in a world with fake creatures, yet pretend to be a learner and teacher, while pretending to reflect, sit back and reject that the person I hate gets clearer and clearer with every look in the mirrored reflects of me seen in my work. I am a developer of murk. I am also an arrogant jerk, who is obsessed with themselves and creating this hell that I pretend to use to make points even though I still am conjoined
In my heart and my soul with resentment. I am not that far from those of who I speak, I have the same soul and cannot teach anything to anyone because I stopped just because it was no longer fun.