I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Tag: playing with words
I go fast.
I can go slow, but before breakfast, I need to
GO GO GO
Pick up fruits listed here…
I am a strawberry, I am a grape, I am a pineapple, I like to meditate, on things that make fruit sound funny, I am a fruit, that due to droughts costs lots of money. I am a kiwi, I am a cherry, and now five fruits I have listed and my post is so very
Or else hunger do I fear…
I am with you, but I am also with no one, I hold onto you, but I am also holding onto nothing, forever staring into nothing at no one because no one is there at all, not you, not me, not her, not him, we forever exist nowhere, doing nothing, thinking about somewhwere else, that we are that is far away from where we are, that is nowhere, doing nothing, staring into nowhere, into nothing, projected forever and ever and ever.
I am green and glow in the dark.
I am a glow worm.
I am a day dream.
I am anything but myself.
I was never anyone, never anyone at all, I lived inside of someone’s mind, who was small, while I was not there at all. I am an invisible human being, while she is too, because, we are not real, or that is what we felt, and I don’t know what I feel now, I feel at least like I can write about this, to an audience I don’t know that well.
I used to write about this on MS Office and then delete it, step up, I guess.
That are so unlike mine, but so very much the same?
What do you think in your head covered in feathers?
What do you think that gives you so much peace and calm, and how can I be more like you…
How can I become a bird of a feather?
I am a duck and I duck because I am a duck who ducks my head into the water because I am a duck who ducks my head in the water.
I am a fish who fishes for fish wishing for this one fish that I saw this one time.
I am a mind who mines for mine. I am a mind who keeps in mind that minds mind me, and so I mind them.
I a look out on the look out for things that look out at me.
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.