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.
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.
Characters thus far
Joy
Diane
Damien de Soto
Rei Clearly
POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION
First person
Blog post style
Dark horror fiction
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.
I am a person who chases dogs looking for God.
I scream out to God where is my dog.
In chaotic act of will, I talk of kill
When really I talk of death of self assertion.
I am misery’s desertion.
It sounded like mocking me, but it was my higher power mocking evil.
Live backwards.
Oh and back words
Me talking myself through this.
Thank you creator.
I used to address my problems by address them at someone unreal, who was made of feelings that were my desire to not feel what was really real.
She was a projection of my hate for me, dressed in silk and painted delicately, she breathed, so gracefully, or so I thought, because I hated me and desired nothing but pain stuffing in address at world of pain stuffing into woman unreal, made of pain and a desire to blame me, for life unreal… or desire to not feel.
I loved my silk maiden, my Rei of the sun, it was me, who was lacking, a killer, a silent setting sun.
I painted her with colors of white, and me of read, telling you I killed people, when it was me I killed instead.
I realize now I had married death, and I am divorcing pain to save the life I have left.
Misery Loves Their Own Company 