I am fear, I am regret, I am worry, I am stained with past remorse, I am forward course through wonder, that can send you under. I am stained with wondering what could have happened if, I am an ocean of if.

I am what now, without going down.

Waters are around me, because I am in an ocean, or in the air, it matters not where I am, just that I am, where is irrelevant, I am in waters or air, surrounded by being, the act of being swimming in air or waters, in forward motion, keeping my head above, trying to not drown in worry, trying to not be the act of looking down into all-consuming depression, over what if I had done something else, I am the what now of looking forward, and not being consumed by the idea of you are doomed.

The idea of regret, the idea of fret, is a pattern, that encircles us that good at drain rotation, the whirlpool sensation, that can be so comforting, I am trying to swim out, but sometimes remain in the circle of look down.

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I am unnoticed

Hot air balloon that flies over HELL, below are those who do not even notice, beyond anything that spells their pain and suffering, they cannot see, they are slaves to their sweet misery, they live in resentment, and cannot look up, this is the state in which they are stuck.

In the muck and the mire, they worship fire, which belongs so sweetly, to their own pain, their lack of restraint, so when something flies over, that can save them from themselves, they are not watchful, looking only

AHEAD AND

DOWN

DOWN

DOWN

SYMMETRICAL

My soul burns for you baby, you make me so ****ing happy.

I loved you baby

You were a dream, you were beyond what you seemed to be, I am a nightmare.

I am not anything I seemed, a crying, screaming nightmare, a hellfire vacation, where the only situation that was in any way relaxing was fixation with elation, go away and let me die alone, I am not the one you want to talk to on the phone, I am forever in pain and forever a drain.

You were not like, I painted you like me.

You were so above, my sorry diss ease.

I could not have you, because you knew I was a liar, addiction to meditating on a funeral pyre.

Candy was dandy, and liquor makes me sick, though I am sick to begin, with anyone I am with, I am not able to love, when meditating on cry, she was so sad, because thoughts of her make me sigh, she asked me to quit, but I cannot lie, she was not enough, so I decided to lie, and instead to do things behind her back, meditating on death and on my soul’s lack.

Message in a bottle

Damien,

I am reading something that made me think of you, and how you talk to yourself, and how we talk to each other, even though it is mostly joking, you are always being mean to yourself, and saying things before other people get a chance to say them. The things you say about yourself even if they are sarcastic are usually mean, please stop doing it.

Amanda

---

Amanda,

It is force of habit, and the voice of the other person that lives in our head.

Damien

---

Damien,

I know it’s force of habit, but please try to stop doing it. I am going to try to stop doing it to. I like you, and you like me, leave it at that for now.

Amanda

---

Amanda,

I think we should try writing positive things to each other, maybe I can do it that way. It is hard for me to say anything positive about me.

Damien

Add vice, advice, add vice, ad vice

I am the creation of vice, through not taking advice, but instead adding vice, resentment

Or reason meant for getting betterment

better meant, betterment, a seperation, the constant situation, of my brain, oil and vinegar, bitterness, seperated naturally, by a brain that is good at alone, but awful at being party to togetherness.

The light of perception is blurry

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

My perception, my perception

It is the oldest I have, my clothing is new,

My life no longer sad.

I have been percieveing with these eyes for 36 years, they have seen many things, experience love, hate, and fear. They are learning to know peace and serenity, but are not there yet, not sure when, or if they will ever be,

But it is my quest, and I am quite glad, better this, I figure than remaining

INSANE

My clothes are new, so this post is silly, as I think my skin is 36, and my soul lays somewhere in this flesh container I occupy, and see through brown eyes into a world that is painted by my perception, painted the way I view it, used to be colored with rage and jealousy, but now beginning to change, and everything going from stained to changed.

I am learning to change my perception, and my clothes, unlike when I was one of the homeless folks and I lived in old clothes, donations that were never really mine, now my clothes, although they are bought not by me, are new, but my skin is still 36, and carries with it the knowledge of 36 years of not being new.

Daily writing prompt

Are you a leader or a follower?

View all responses

Alone, a loner, a long er, which is a long extension of time, spent in the ER, or Emergency Room.

I have been there a lot, and been alone a lot, because of exactly that, now mind you my alone time has not been mostly there… it has been, everywhere.

Pages: 1 2 3

Made of Stardust and Light

You are the Goddess of the Rivers made of stardust, and light, you are a creature of reflection and of dancing in the night. You come to those who are drowning, and addictied to act of fight, you are creature of pure reflection, and save the infected, sick and addicted to spite.

I meditate on you often, even though I do not quite understand, being a creature of habit, I am sure of one thing only, and that is,

I do not understand you right-ly.

I am not saint-ly.

I am a liar and a theif.

I am a creature of swamps and of things that dwell beneath.

You are a Goddess that is above me, and so I am stuck looking at the skies, but it is hard to not go below, I am a creature with downcast eyes.

I am

I colored you like your two loves.

She was a monster, my sweet turtle dove, she was so crazy, and loved black and white, she was a monster, with him she did fight.

Still life

I live the still life, I lay around and do drugs all night.

Your boyfriend was so dull, though you were so great, he just layed around, you two couldn’t relate, I don’t know what you saw in him, that’s a lie yes I did, he was your dealer, and you two had a kid.

I wish I could have had you, and so did, so you say, but because you refused to leave him, I had to go away, now you remain in all likelihood, still doing the same thing, not getting out, but instead giving in.

The addicted live in misery, they live in pain, the lurk in the shadows, they stand in the rain, the litter the streets with garbage and pain, they scream in the night, their lives down the drain, they have no hope, they are told they should die, and looking back it just makes me cry.

I have known you a thousand times, but noticed nothing, not a thing about you, because I worhipped something that stripped all the color from my world.

You, and all like you

Paint me like you saw me, a black and white rendering of a heart posessed by darkness and moral decay.

I told her and all like her, to stay away, far away from me, desiring nothing, other than what fueled me…

Pushing everything and everyone away, far, far away, now I am left alone.

I knew this would happen, and did not care, addicted to the now

Now now now

More more more

I complain, but know I did this to me, I was so joy us and O so free.

I was addicted to

I am alone.

I am right along side of you.

To be or not to be?

Distended and extended

I am a time eater.

Left with nothing now, I look back, because I am stuck in the creation of forward.

You are not the creator of reality.

I know, but I am the shaper of my future, or one of them anyway.

My spray painted goddess

You are standing in front of a wall you painted dark green, like the ocean, or the idea of being mean, you didn’t like that, thinking it ruined it.

Ruin radiates from your eyes, no your ruin, but rather, mine, something I jealously guard, tortured guard, of Hell’s sword.

You stare blankly into the nothingness, that is everything you see before you, because everything before you is nothing, compared to the light radiant hands that painted the walls the color of the love of the sea, sprayed on, with the spirit of sea spray, encapsulated, by the captivating hands of one who radiates love so deep for all around her. You paint color into the darkness in waves that turn me green with envy, making me a creature on your walls, invisible, and broken, down into the atoms, so low, that I am nothing, but fragments, on the walls, shattered and broken, but brought back together, and rematched, by everything that you are.

You are a shooting heroic star.

I am not capable of what she wants, she says I am, I assure I am not.

We are sitting on the beach, she tells me to look at the sunset. I am staring at my shoes, thinking about being underwater. I am not completely aware that she is still actually there, she might be a hallucination. I have not known her that long, and don’t remember how we met, she makes me nervous.

She tells me to look her in the eyes. I don’t like looking at people. I am awful at direct eye contact.

I tell her there was once a study done about hallucination and direct eye contact. She asks if I am hallucinating now. ****

How do I always end up doing this?

Captionless

What do you do to be involved in the community?

I can do nothing but what I can do, which is not much, because I am not there as much as most.

I can do nothing but what someone who is only partially there would do.

That being said, I provide support to all those who need the advice of an addict/alcoholic/ex-homeless junkie.

I say this with no self-loathing.

I am an ear, an eye, a shoulder, and a hand to those who are in bad situations.

Burning Spray Paint

I am painted

With the embers that

Burn brightly,

In the trashcans, that are lit, by campers of discomfort.

I burn with brightness, that ignites nights whose darkness comes from souls not skies.

I love you baby, I love you sweety, I love you deeply, I loved you sweetly, ever and completely, I hate you hunny, I hate you so fully, so much

She was my lover, she was my girl, she was my everything, spinning round and round, and turning upside down, down side up, upside side down, round and over, and upside all around.

You meant nothing, you meant nothing, you meant nothing, you are nothing to me, leave me alone, leave me alone.

I am happy now, this is all in the past.

Looking glass

Looking glass

Looking glass

Alcoholism encased

Addict in blank space

I loved her with everything I had. Baby, oh baby, why did you not give me anything, when I gave you

EVERYTHING I

had

You were big and I was small. you were big and I was small.

She loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not she loves me not

I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I am the lie I the lie I am the Eye am I Eye am I I am I

She meant nothing to me, lie

She meant everything to me, and I meant heroin to her.

Thank you for everything you have done today for us, Damien.

Thank you for saying that, it means the entire world to me.

I know, and it means the entire world to me that you have helped me. I think I am realizing now, that you and I, and the way our brain works is a strength, not a weakness.

Thank you for saying that as well.

Thank you for listening to me.

I love you and we will be okay.

That means the world to me. Now we can never forget the serenity prayer ever again.

I know, I appreciate that as well, but you probably could have just looked it up anytime you needed to remember it.

I felt there was some power behind posting it.

Thank you for that.

You are welcome. I love you.

For the first time ever, that doesn’t gross me out.

Thank you for saying that, as well.

You’re welcome.

Sea Goddess, Ocean Siren

I am looking at you, but seeing only me, because I am bitterness reflected, back from eyes that are stained with tearing at myself, bitterness encased in toxic casing which is the current shell I am placed in.

I hate myself, but hated you, because you in some way reflected me too, but that is my problem, even now, I am trying to realize this, and come down, from the pedestal I placed myself on, where I sit alone, and rambling on, about how nothing was my fault.

Is that really how it was, selfish ***hole? No, it wasn’t.

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin.

I was addicted to heroine

I was addicted heroin

I forever, always and forever, and always and forever will be addicted to heroin

Are you talking to me?

Not you, but it yes…

Why? You want?

We are not doing that ever again

If you do I am coming to

That was not an error Amanda, remember what happened sometimes, the act of coming to

I don’t want that because it will make my… our family sad

I know me neither now.

Fish of Condescending Thought, Bought with time spent looking at the ground while I should have been asleep.

He told me something

Spoke so clearly, told me that he loved me dearly, he had such a beautiful voice, so I felt like I had no choice, but to make him

CRY CRY CRY

I love you sweetheart, hope you

DIE.

You are part of an empire of chaotic obsession with death that seeks the theft of youth by making them afraid of the idea of truth, so they stick themselves with

PINS AND NEEDLES

Sowing into themselves cushioning, that cuts out everything they are, everything they were before, making them sure of nothing other than that they need endless replenshiment of something that is not food, not water, not shelter, or warmth but

GIVE ME MORE LOVE

I am the act of shove, I am the act of push, I am take everything you have.

I am addiction, I am all consuming, I am ever entombing, I will eat your

SOLE

Of your shoe because your real soul belongs only to you, please

Remember that.

This is for you, baby

I am in love with the sun, apparently, I like that it burns me.

I love your UV rays, hurt me baby please, bring me to my knees, I am begging you please, oh please kill me, I am so in love with my own disease.

I love to exist in decline. I am resigned to

SICK

MIND

In bind with time, I sit in

D

Clin

ING

Spinning freely

You are such an idiot.

I know, but I am writing this for you, because I LOVE

You are just making an *** of yourself.

I don’t care, I am just writing love letters to myself in public, so of course I am making an *** of myself.

Disorder personality, how do I reassemble thee?

Why do you care?

Because I hate it when people stare at me.

Then why are you making an *** of yourself online?

Point taken.

Slap in the face, there and again again

In the dark of night a fire burns and creates light, the only light under a bridge, in a barrel without lid, burning free for all with site because no one cares no need to fight to hide anything at all because

There is no love for the ever shoved, no one will come to put it out, no one will scream, no one will shout, they want you warm and then want you free, to die under the bridge on your own bent knee, cast to the ground in twisted form, dying from own hand, and sick with scorn, you did it to yourself, now they can say, and so poor addict is thrown away.

The poor exist under bridges of a country, that forgets the addicted and poor and hungry, that ignores addiction and mental illness, and then questions sadness of it children.

Addict Hell, it’s just a spell, but it is just the same as being there, lurking in the reign of perpetual disdain.

I thought I was sitting alone, ranting and raving about things I thought only I had known, existing I thought in tragic fracture, seperate from all, a perpetual lacker.

I spoke in a state of distanced extension, from a place where I am stuck in muck that I rest in,

Thinking forever I am stuck, in the tragic clawing and ripping, my soul caked with mud, and sopping and dripping, consumed as I was with thought of my sinking,

Lower and lower, I thought I was plunging, backwards and forwards, I sat tragically lunging, sitting alone, but also with friends, but in my sick head, thought I could pretend

To be somewhere else, though I know not why I desire so constantly to poke my own eye, or to sit there back and forth rocking wishing to die, slowly, so slowly making myself cry, but you saw me and helped me

And now I feel better, thank you so dearly, from the ever forgetter.

I am an idiot. I am a jerk. I am a liar.

Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

You were not who I painted you out to be, obviously, clearly, painted, seen through tainted lens, made obvious to everyone but me.

Lens painted by lack of clarity.

The real story is that you did not trust me. You were up my ***, confidence in me, rusted, by lack of knowledge of what I was like, which was fair, heroin addict, addicted to strife.

I forgot what it was like to be you, was unable to lift myself out of my lack of shoes.

I forgot what you had done because I hated myself.

Forgot how you had found me

Forgot who I used to be

Forgot the pulling, and the lifting from the street……

I am so sorry……….

I hate admitting that you helped me……….

I hate admitting that I failed…

I hate admitting that I needed anyone at all……….

I hate admitting that I couldn’t do ANYTHING on my own………….

I still resent myself for being an addict

I still resent myself for being an alcoholic

I am working on this

But I know now

I love you for what you did for me

I am so sorry for what I did all these years to you

You are also not who I painted you to be

That was a reflection of my own weakness

And unwillingness to accept that I can’t handle my own ****

I

The Rise of Bottom Feeders

That is all.

Chaos

I will follow him
Follow him wherever he may go
And near him, I always will be
For nothing can keep me away
He is my destiny

Are you claiming to be a god?

No, I am saying I was doing what the universe told me to.

I pushed a fox out of hole, and he died because I am selfish, or was anyway, I think someone ate him.

The streets of this country are riddled with screaming, every street corner, ever cover of darkness, is surrounded by the screaming criers of the night, who scream in languages only some can understand.

They talk to me, clearly, not her name, but meaning I understand them, and they speak to me in plain English, because that is the language of the country I am in, unofficially.

We talk of survival, not manipulation, but survival, of who is the best person to ask for money, who will likely hand over a dollar, I am good at this, good at awkward prolonged eye contact, I help them, my fellow nightcriers.

I miss them dearly, clearly, not her name, **** her name.

They are just like everyone else, except their lives have been riddled with danger, and because they are addicts they used or drank about it, and the judgement of others, bothers me endlessly.

I am stained, ever the same as always, with purple, ever the same as I was, but for a different reason

Whining, wining, not wining, not whining but winning slowly, a battle with a stain, destain, de-stain.

Polaroid of the void,

I am wind up toy

I was running off a cliff

Forever I was adrift

But, I am finding now

Forever out of cloud

Do you paint a way out?

Do you tell a store of a life without

Do you speak of escape or revival

Loss or survival?

I am free, I am free, I am free

Just to be

Just to be

The Cleansing Power of Looking Up

I miss a lot of things

Looking at the ground to make sure

I will not trip

Welcome to the path of my life, I am inner complicated strive, I am clearly’s soul cutting.

Are you green? Are you green? Whatever do you mean?????

I am talking to me.

I am talking to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The narrator hates themself.

The narrator needs to calm down.

The narrator hates themself.

Okay I feel better.

But really looking for rocks

Or darts to toss

In the trash, because you know it is my goal to

FOCUS ON EVERYTHING THAT KILLS ME

Stop it man, seriously.

Why? I am done anyway.

You are helping me,

Damien.

You are me, but you are also not, and you are helping me.

Thank you self.

That is all.

I am sorry, I am insane, I am in pain, I am acid rain, I am soul disdain of my own making and continuous breaking, taking liberties.

But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning around

The Beatles, “The Fool on the Hill”

I once told someone something very strange. They were complaining to me about their ex ALL THE TIME…..

Hey ***hole…

Yeah, just realized that too..

I am sorry by the way, to anyone reading this, who still hasn’t decided to not read it, because you can, because I am annoying.

Why do they need your permission?

Noted.

This post is now about something else. Moving on.

Peace.

I am an orange, I am a door. I am closed, laughing ripping away orange skin on bare floor.

I eat in Hell

You have severe issues.

So do you, I am you remember?

I don’t have the same issues.

Yes, you do, I am just not lying about mine.

So you think food and water are poison, and drugs and alcohol help you?

I am making fun of myself, because I realize how flawed my thinking is.

Oh, good one?

Yes, learning.

Thank you?

You’re welcome.

Do you climb the sky?

Yes, I do with my I.

I come from the ground, and clear I move, making loud sound.

I climb, I grow, creature of light, I climb the sky in star flight, in the light of stars, I dance for you, I am a lighting lightning storm, that quickly moves.

In the stars I frantic dance, and if watch, you gain the chance, to see the sky frantic ballet, of dancing legs of bones that play

In shoes of light without trap of skin, they dance in bones spread sky thin.

Untitled

Inspiration is the station of looking across, the seas of seeing only fighting the lack of light, being different is turning hands away from negative to positive, I am so sorry, but I am no longer in a sea of chaos, for now.

Daily writing prompt

What job would you do for free?

View all responses

Boredom is cured, by flying through the world, as a bird that used to live in hitches of darkness, now cured by flying off of gyms of the dark jungle of chaos, and into the world where favors are done for the favorable by the unfavorable, who are this way because they hated themselves.

Through these acts favor is cast in reflected light on acts of kindness, that cast nets to those lost in seas of darkness, who have been treading water, and casting darkness, and no longer do so, instead finding light in others, they reach hands out to get out of the seas of chaos.

Serving others, instead of stealing light, is the fight undertaken by those who wish to avoid stormy seas of the soul of the drowning.

Realizations are owed to those who caused them, which is not from the hands that write them, but from the sun that cast light on the lost.

The light houses of others guide all those lost in the dark and make them something else.

Desire is sparking in lost ones every day, to be what others have been for them, and in silence they speak through acts of kindness.

Clarity from the darkness

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.

I like cats

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.

Damien

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.

Untitled

I am green with envy

I am green with sickness

I am green

I am mean

I am coming undone

I am no fun

I am sickness

I am addict.

I relate humility and humiliation, a lot because I always did. The root words are similar, and for me, until today actually they appeared to be the same thing, forced bowing, like someone had conquered me, or something… the spirit of the Spanish Conquerer, someone said something to me about my name and that. It hurt… but so does someone saying I have brown eyes, because everything hurts my feelings.

I was listening to someone say that I have to do a fearless moral inventory, and the thing is… I don’t know what the **** that even means because for me morality has always been enforced with fear, Spanish Catholic superstition.

It is funny, I was cleaning with Diane when the spider incident happened, and she got mad, and I think it was partly because she believed the spider to not be real, and even if it wasn’t what different does it make? I saw it, so even if it was unreal or real, is it any more okay or not okay if it is or isnt? I made a loud sound because I was genuinely afraid in that moment, of something I thought I saw.

Alcoholism

A child in their teens poses a question in this novel I am reading, that I feel compelled to answer, because I feel it applies to me.

Had all those homeless people in the parks and subways of Manhattan, just not paid attention in class?

Lisa Unger, Darkness My Old Friend

No, Willow. I paid attention in class, I have a MA in Public Policy and graduated with 3.43. I have an minor in philosophy, and my BA is in Political Science, which I graduated with a 3.2 in because I was drinking heavily the whole time.

I paid attention in class, but realized that Political Science caused me to drink and use drugs, but it is the only subject other than fiction and Philosophy that interested me, because it was about the nature of man. I found myself with nothing to do with my life because the system was criminal, or I thought it to be, so I decided if I could not get behind it, I would slowly die, on the streets. I am not a brave person, but I am recovering from mindslaying fear, and going to use my writing to do something positive eventually.

I am riddled with lack, I am the lack of soul, which comes with condescending attack. I am the power of demise, I speak with eyes of despise. I am misery in carnate raw form, I am dead man’s scorn. I am war torn. I am forlong, I am dark thorn, in shoe of human being with very precious heart. I am fear of start. I am the smart.

You are a liar, who has no soul to be on fire, and you will not get mine, you are death, and you can stay the HELL away from me, because I aim to breathe, I breathe breath that comes with shedding fear, and walking away from beer or heroin or crack or meth or weed or anything that makes me so afraid to be without it that I desire to talk to you at all, things that makes all things small, so it can be tall. You have no legs. You can’t stand without piggy backing on my back, herder of swine. You are mine, I am not yours.

How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic?

I am more careful with my words now, because I never know who I am going to offend. I say this in response to the pandemic because whenever I speak about it, I wonder if I am talking to someone who lost someone during it, it has made me more conscious of others grief, and where they are in the process of grief.

Ever since the pandemic, I realize that I exist in a world with people who are also suffering at time, we all suffer on and off together, and I am more careful about what I say. That being said, I am learning, as of late, to be more conscious of what I say even than before, because I have been prone to rage on this very site. I am learning that I damage me by sending myself into fits of paranoia.

Finding the middle is key, honesty, without the hate, just critique minus the threat to belief or right to be.

You are silent when I listen, you caw when I do not, I am listening to you my friend, outside my window where you are, though I cannot see you.

Talking to you is better than talking to them, them is a word re-arranged. Them is a word re-arranged.

Shut up.

Did you stain the rug?

I did not stain the rug, I did not I swear, I put it down, before the paint was dropped.

I am very careful don’t you see? How could you place the blame on me? I did not stain the rug, and it can be seen in this picture of a rug, that is a different rug, but looks like the rug I did not stain.

Someone with a name I will not mention stained the rug, and it was not me.

Along time ago in a place far away, I cleaned motel rooms and

Let Om.

Om. Sounds like meditation..

I should have cleaned the rooms in a calm manner.

Yeah, maybe then you wouldn’t have lost your job.

I lost my job because I came to work high ever day.

Did that cause you to behave calmly?

Does anyone behave calmly on drugs?

My point exactly.

Do you?

I am you.

I know them is a word re-arranged, and it is word, that made me realize that it is no longer a good idea for stay up for two weeks at time.

What about them?

Who a word re-arranged?

No, them.

The people? Which people? Everyone?

Yes, everyone.

I am sorry to the every ones.

There are not multiple every ones.

I thought it sounded cool.

You sound like a tool.

I am a tool.

Actually, yes.

**** you.

I mean you are being used, like everyone is being used at times, by the hands of the universe to help other people.

Wow, arrogance.

I know, but everyone is used this way.

They are?

Yes.

Tool is loot backwards.

You are such a jerk.

I did a brief inquiry into the history of this house, and found nothing. So I don’t think the ghost has to do with the house, and what is strange is the same thing happened when I came back downstairs, so I am done as of now, talking about anything negative on this site. I will do my best to make this site a positive place, going forward, as I think this is something that is directed at me specifically and wants to me to be angry and miserable. I am no longer going to be serving whatever it is.

That is all for now, in this post anyway.

Peace and love

Damien.

I am self-assertion, I am ego insertion, I am screaming, I am forcing, I am driving, I am shoving, I am burning, don’t care if you are crying.

I am forcing.

I am forcing.

I am enforcing.

I am understanding.

I am under standing

I am demanding.

I am telling

I am forcing.

I am your soul’s theft.

I am every reason you remember this house you left.

Stream of Consciousness

If you could have something named after you, what would it be?

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

Stricken

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.

Small steps.

Getting my own place, and moving on with everything I mean. I am realizing how much worse this whole thing has made me, and thinking that having a place where I can be alone would be good. I think the paranoia will get a lot better, if I am alone. Which is funny because I think that this something the universe was trying to tell me and I wasn’t listening. I think that this is why I have gotten as bad as I have, because I am pretty insane right now, or I think I am… in comparison to how I used to be.

I just talked to my family about getting an attorney to handle a disability claim I have going on, because I am very good at losing jobs, over and over and over. I have had a lot of them, but I lose every single one for one reason or another. Usually because some paranoid delusion justifies me not showing up or being drunk or high when I show up because I am afraid and use or drink because I am afraid.

It really helped me to talk to my family about all of this, I feel less like a pacing lunatic now, at least I know the whole world is not out to get me now.

I am the screaming nightcrier, the burner of funeral pyre to desire for

DEATH

MY OWN

MY PRECIOUS

MY DISCARDED

RINGS true doesn’t it?

Answer me

Clearly…. clarity, clarity where for art thou clarity?

DOWN THE DRAIN, because over night you went insane,

JUST TEMPORARILY

IS that so?

I ****ing hope so, I am going to go somewhere soon, so if I write this, you will go away maybe, and I will not have to hear you talking to me in front of other people.

DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT??

Enough to do it.

You are disgusting.

GOTCHA, you are talking to yourself.

What are you looking at honey?

I am standing at the dock, staring out over the water, mesmerized by the way the moon paints the waves with light.

I am cold, not prone to waking up with jackets on, not sure why this is, but I am shaking, but it is alright because it is keeping me aware.

I am listening to a conversation that I am not sure,

Yes, it is real..

I feel hate running red, through my veins, through my entire body, unsure of the exact nature of this, I am aware that it relates to my passenger, Amanda.

She hates this woman, that I can hear now, her voice grating, she’s bragging about something, why would she? Why would she be shouting about drugs outside in the middle of the night? Understood. I get it. This person is a ****.

I am unsure of what the expectation is of my borrowing this body, I think they just didn’t want to be here right now, so screw it. I am going to the convenience store.

To the one I left behind

I am not quite sure if “normal” people worry as much as I do, or even if other addicts or other mentally ill people do, I worry every second I am awake, but I hate sleep because I am afraid of death, I didn’t know that, and just figured it out writing this. That is a lot of why I am doing this, I wanted to know who I even was. I was so caught up in defending myself against the attacks of my exes, I forgot who I even was, or maybe was never anyone to begin with. I have never been alone for longer than a month, always partners in crime with another drinker/user and always co-dependent on that person vice versa, we always existed in a symbiotic way, fueling eachother’s addiction. The worst was with Rei/Justin. The entire relationship centered around drugs, at least for me, I think they hate me as much as they do because of that, because at one point they really loved me, and the more that I think about it, while I emulated love… I never loved them as much as I loved the person I left to be with them, whose name I won’t say online because she asked me not to.

I am still partially in love with her as well, but she is still using, and I am so done, and she is done with me. She was always able to pay for her habits legally, she has her ways, and didn’t like my less conventional ways, so when she would kick me out I would go get high with Rei, and one day we decided to go to Cali together.

All the music I post on this site is thanks to my ex, the one before Rei. I loved her, stil do so much. She is the most beautiful person I ever met in my whole life, and she doesn’t even know it.

Rei was just as self involved as I am, which was great at first, because it made me feel better, but we were always ego sparing, except she was not willing to walk away at first, I am.

I always was, and it drove her nuts.

I miss California a lot, which is pathetic because what I am saying is I miss my lifestyle in California, I have an adrenaline issue, without something causing adrenaline release , I create problems on purpose to cause adrenaline release, another thing Rei/Justin hated and my other ex loved.

We used to throw glass bottles against our doors at our house, just to have something to clean when we were bored, and wanted to get rid of them before anyone saw them. Oh my god, I miss her.

When I say I miss California what I am really saying is I miss living on the streets and not caring about anything, because I am weak and this is hard.

Even if you don’t believe what I believe, the whole God or god thing, what I will say is this.. for me the reason it helps me is because in the Christian tradition the use of the character or real person Jesus, makes it possible for me to meditate on the idea of someone doing the right thing no matter what when faced with adversity, which is the opposite of what I do, and as much as I say I don’t care, that is the source of all my self-hatred the fact that I know what I should do, and do what I want anyway. That is one of the driving forces behind why I am doing any of this, I got tired of justifying being a bad person. I thought it might be simpler to just do the right thing.

I was always arguing with my higher power about if they only knew they would have done it my way, until it hit me that if I believe what I believe, and I do, then they know what to do because the outcomes have been weighed and the right thing produces the most desirable consequences.

That really bugs me out, and made me have a hissy fit about it, about the lack of the point of everything for decades. I figured that one out at 8. I almost died during nuerosurgery at 8, and grapled with the meaning of life from then onward.

I am tired of myself.

Peace

Damien

I like to go to things like this sometimes, because something about it helps me. I have a hard time with my arrogance every day, reflecting on something higher takes me out of myself, and makes me less self focused, which is great because I hate myself anyway, which I am working on, but it is hard to sit with myself everyday, because, most of the time I wish I could break up with me, like everyone else did.. haha…

That was really pathetic… but I am trying to be honest. I think the thing that I appreciated the most about the whole thing is it showed the strength of someone doing something completely out of duty, for something that was not all about them, but a sacrifice. It really spoke to me, because my life has been quite the opposite, and I used to think that made me strong, but I am realizing very slowly, it just makes me an ***hole. I am trying to figure out the middle ground, the way to break the cycle between self assertion and self-pity and self hatred. I am just not there yet, because I am still not able to surrender completely to something, because I am still stuck at the resenting me part.

I really need to work on the whole thing, which I think the first step to is getting over the fact that I am alone, because I need to be right now. I was a self-seeking ***hole and those kinds of people need to be alone sometimes.

I was with a friend of mine, and we were well… doing things you should not do on a beach in the sand.. making quilts of pain.

I am not good at making quilts, I always use a thread that is too long, so long sometimes I get tangled in it, and end up waking up next to her, after she got tangled in it too.

I woke up choking on my own vomit, because when you play with string and swallow it you have to throw up sometimes… I look over at her, and she is not breathing….. I immediately start crying, because that is the right response, make it so I can’t see clearly, so I can’t save my friends life because I had to take a shot at doing something stupid, because I can’t just be sober for five seconds, even if the five seconds would save her

I throw everything out of the way, and wonder where the **** I put that thing…. that thing that you stick up people nose to save their freaking life when they do something stupid and are not the one who has to be me right now **** why the hell did I never learn CPR. Why the hell did I never learn… I know how to say all this stupid stuff in different languages, but I don’t know cpr…. what the fuck….

You cough, and everything is alright.

Thank you God.

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

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

Got it, Damien.

Yeah, lived- devil- funny right?

There are two of me, which is great because I am one of the loneliest people I know, actually I am one of the only… liar…

Woe is me, woe is me, I am lying clear to see, I write under many names, really writing under soul disdain, I am addict hear me cry, I am the ever spinning eating I of soul of the shadow beings of light, flying into human minds, we bind ourselves to their decline.

Hey, that was ****ing mean, I saved your life **** it.

I know, my hands told me to write it to get you to talk to me.

I like it.

I knew you would.

You did?

Yeah, because you are me.

I exist in callous form, I am clearly’s soul reformed, I am Amanda’s soul two no three, I am the act of 1, 2, 3.

Daily writing prompt

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

View all responses

I wanted to be free from being in the back of my own head, living a life of falsehood, bad faith pretending to be something I was not just because I thought society would not accept me, us, both of us. I am two people. I don’t care how insane that sounds. I have the thoughts and opinions of two people, and can give two completely separate sets of reactions. I am also me, and trapped in a girls body, but she needed me, she hates herself, because she doesn’t want to be a girl either. Neither of us did. I think we were sentenced to this, because we are both supposed to do something together, but I am crazy and have an overinflated sense of self-importance, so don’t listen to me.

I have no idea what question… oh yeah… when I grew up… I don’t know alive? I will settle for alive… not being dead is good.

Yeah, I am awake too, dork, I wake up when you wake up because I am your inner child.

Not everyone has an inner child that wakes up when they wake up.

Meh. Meh. Meh.

That’s really mature.

I know, I learned from you.

Do you like being alive again?

I saw that, you put a period at the end of that before putting the question, you forget I can do it too.

No I just wasn’t typing so I didn’t forget.. I was letting you talk.

Oh, wow, sweet.

So what do you have to say?

Nothing.

Thought so.

You thought so?

Yeah, I thought you weren’t going to talk to me for more than a couple seconds, actually. I am pretty psyched you are talking to me for more than five seconds.

Is it fun being in my body?

It’s way better than being nobody.

Then stop having a hissy fit about it on the internet?

True, I learned that from you though.

True, point taken.

Not even going to say it.

Good, I was thinking the same thing, and no one needs to hear that ****.

Hey, why don’t I have a last name again?

Because you have paranoid schizophrenia.

Then why do you have one?

Because I don’t give a flying **** if anyone messes with me.

I am a tragic dancer, I am a reality distancer, I am a fictioneer, I am addicted to human fear.

I am drinker of beer, I am commiter of jeer.

I am leary, I am query, I am dark, I am stark, I am hate, I am relate.

How do you dance in the dark night?

Do you delight in the

PAIN

Of the fallen?

Or do you pull them up?

I don’t know I don’t know

Say isn’t so?

Where do you go when it is dark?

To.. the answer is changing **** it.

I know, for me too.

For me too.

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,

Wow.

It’s all for you, Damien.

The Omen

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

View all responses

I have being having a hissy fit my whole life about having to be someone I am not. I am not Rei Clearly, I am not Amanda. I am me. I am this, I am Damien, take it or leave it.

I should have said that the whole time, instead of saying I was a violent person or a psycho. I am merely just a very angry person, but really only at myself, for never standing up for myself, for drinking and using about something I did to me.

I am done with it, I know I have said that, but I am putting this on here, so I have to look at it, every time I try to word vomit negativity.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/03/30/reenas-xploration-challenge-274/

I already am, in charge of a burning inferno, right now, it has been word vomited all over the internet, but I am done throwing up now, realizing I was never really sick at all, just had a sort of food poisoning given to myself by myself because I was addicted to poisoning my own mind, and meditating on all matters not divine, but I am done now. I am walking away, so no one is in charge of my hell, and yes I own it, because it was internal not external.

The fires of Hell, a place, are really the fires that burn in my own soul, on fire from a fire started by me, lighting everything that causes me to feel fear on fire, but it has been revealed to me, by my friends recently, that I can just simply leave Hell or hell, which is preferable.

So now no one is in charge, because even if you believe in this being a real place, I am not dead yet, and can decide to turn around, which I am doing now, instead of projecting into a place I am not yet and will make every effort to never be.

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

SO WHAT?

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.

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

View all responses

I am trying, really I am.. I am telling this to myself right now, because I either beat the **** out of myself or worship the ground I walk on, which is insane because that would mean I am always stepping on my own self, which is true I guess… because my lack of introspection does exactly that. I guess that is why I have characteristically had very few friends, because I have a method of dealing with conflict that is basically I don’t deal with, get mad and repress my own emotions until I am screaming on internet about doing things that make me hate myself? I see a pattern here… Wow that helped.

I guess it is something I didn’t understand too, and I am one of those people or them or meth thinking. them and meth are the same word rearranged by the way, released this when I was really freaking high, thought it was cool till I realized that it was all a metaphor for me destroying myself with drugs.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2023/03/12/wordle-596/

The most terrifying thing, I have been thinking about all night is what if I am actually normal now that I have realized my paranoid delusions are what were killing me, making me live in a separate reality cast as a madman when that is not who I ever was, riddled by guilt of not saying no to drugs… what if this is a higher power talking to me, telling me it is my delusions, and the drugs and alcohol that perpetuated them, making me into something I am not… and now.. now I hear something higher… and I am just listening, actively, to the voice of something that loves me. What if it is just trying to save my life, by telling me to stay away from toxic things like drugs and alcohol, what if it is trying to change my fate through compelling my broken soul to change?

I have been casting my eyes to the stars at night, looking for a star that is different, anything that will say that something is speaking to me, that this is not all in my head. That is some sort trial that is supposed to bind my hand to something that is tied to something that is much higher than I could ever have been in my whole life of vagrancy.

I am compelled to meditate in my room, in any room I am in, on this strange call I hear sometimes. It comes to me when I am shaking, or crying in the dark black of night, and the only thing that seems to cure it is church or the powers of over drugs and alcohol that I gain through recovery meetings.

I have always heard this strange music, in my head, when thinking about all this, a chaotic piecing together of sounds, when I think about all this. It sounds like the universe talking to me through sound, but I think I am just insane. I don’t know…

I was happy with her, with a different girl, she accepted me, she was the same as I was…. we both had paranoid schizophrenia. I loved her truly and deeply, I was just insanely ****ing stupid, and got pissed one day because she ripped me off…and that obviously matters more than anything right? Stupid…….. I left and went over to Rei’s or whatever she calls herself…….

I left because she offered to get high with me…****ing great reason… to leave someone right? Some else has free ****. I didn’t want to admit this to myself… that it was all about that. We had two dogs. I left my dog and my girlfriend for another person who said they had always loved me, but more importantly offered to help me on a day when my ex had ripped me off. So I slept with someone else because they gave me free ****. So I deserve this… I deserve her leaving me for someone else, because I did the same thing.

That is what made me turn my **** around. I am out. I am disgusted with myself, with my choices, my life and everything I did to myself and those around me. She even offered to take me back, and Rei offered me **** to stay. So I stayed, like a dog, then we ripped off every single one of our friends and left the area and lived on the streets for 4 years until we almost died out there of freezing to death, and I will leave the rest of that one for later.

I am so tired of the whole thing. I am finding peace in being away from all of this, I think it is ironic that a drug named for a misspelling female hero makes people the opposite of heroic. I am such a piece of ****.

I see no end, to your voice, see no end to no choice,

I hear you in my head, over and over,

Saying things you said, that I ignored, shut you out.

I would at the time rather have lived without

Hearing that you hated me, wished me to know with impunity, but now I wonder, and I fear,

Whether you were right and so my dear,

I am so sorry for shutting out

All words you said, because I live in doubt, had I listened, had I changed, would I still be in such pain??

Would we both be better now? If I stopped using then, had put it down, if I had agreed, done what you said, would I still be alone and dead inside

I am right now. I wish I had something not life without.

I was stupid. I was wrong, and now I wish I just had gone

Along with anything you did or said and maybe I would not wish I was dead.

https://wordpress.com/tag/word-of-the-day-challenge

I used to quell spells from Hell, with spells from Hell, and I lived to tell, and it just as well, because I am thinking well, now, that I have learned something I am not trying to sell or tell to anyone really, just keeping it close, even though I am leary, and in perpetual queery, queerly thinking that I am doing something wrong, like a bad song, or a book too long.

I am still resisting, insisting, as I do, to trudge, on on and on.

I am of unsound mind and body still existing on moving forward, as I do because I am consumed with idea of tomb, punish me, baby.

I am crazy, but maybe I am not. Maybe my mind just runs hot, with dissing ease of soul displeased, and teased by my self, and I need to take my life off the shelf, away from the bottles and the sowing needles, of just as well, a life bound to life in eternal Hell.

That is what my friends say is the end to this wicked spell of perpetual defend and cry and die, and lie, and spy with the ever holding eye of crying dying mad and sad. Maybe I am not that bad after all. Maybe I can do this whole living thing, and maybe I am just punishing those around me, by sentencing sentences to the sound of my complaining, does that ring true to you,

Clearly, do what you say, not what you always do.

Love yourself too.

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

How many hours a day would you estimate you spent on your blog, including writing, reading, and commenting? If you didn’t blog, what would you do with the time you currently spend on your blog?

You are asking me how I item-ize my time. How long do I spend on here? Why? There is no distinction between the things that I do during the day. I do not have the ability to space things individually. In other words, I do not know and this question makes me uncomfortable.

If I didn’t blog, I would be doing the same thing I do on here, out loud outside. I talk to myself on here, because I have something wrong with me, and I don’t have an inner monologue. The things I think come out of my mouth, unless I am writing, then I get some sort of semblance of peace for a second, because the things I think about, which are often unorganized fear driven nightmares, are projected onto this screen instead.

I write on here, so that I don’t walk around my house talking to myself anymore. If I didn’t write on here, I would walk around somewhere talking to myself, all day, every day, on repeat for the rest of my **** life.

It does not get better if I quit doing anything. This is my life un-medicated forever.

Which is why I need to get back on medication, which I am going to do. Soon.

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

How does death change your perspective?

My perspective is dead itself, or the idea that I have the ability to even have perspective is dead. It died for me when I was eight years old, when I realized I do not live in reality.

Block of Wood

You happened a long time ago, and every day, because you are a metaphor for mental decay.

I am staring at a block of wood, I do not know how I came to be staring at a block of wood, I do not have any knowledge of how long I have been standing here, I do not know what time I started staring at the block of wood, or where it is placed in the universe, or if I am even in the universe at all right now. I am simply staring at a block of wood in the dark, and can’t tell what time it is. It is that rare time of day or night when it is indistinguishable whether it is in fact day or night. I am not sure, I have no perspective anymore. I long ago gave that up because I am constant propelled into a reality that I am not sure of the reality of, so I relate to nothing, which means I have no perspective. This is beginning to change, but goes right back when this happens, and I have to fight my way out of the dark cavern that is the Hell of my mind.

I do not know why I was staring at the block of wood. I just know that I swear, I swear on everything in me, that I began to see the atoms if I focused enough, that made up the wood itself. I know I am insane, that this is all just hallucination, and indication that I am doing something right, because my mind does this to me whenever I make any sort of progress, sends me forwards, backwards, longways, short ways, and to a position of staring at a block of wood and wondering if I can communicate with my cat better orally or through telepathy.

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.

Damien

I am overwhelmed by the silence right now, a continuous quiet that is the lack of your voice in my head, I realize this now, that a lot of what I was hearing was you, telling me things over and over that I didn’t need to hear.

You were killing me. I didn’t realize this, that you were on a mission to hurt me, and wanted only to hurt me.

You didn’t want to accept that you were an addict too. I don’t get it. I think I should just stop thinking about you, and move on.. I don’t know why I keep ****ing doing this to myself… it’s been a year man of me fighting with you in my head…

I don’t know why I am trying to prove to myself so hard that you were an addict as well. I know you were, so why can’t I ****ing just move on, and say you didn’t love me, and that is it??? I don’t get it.

You moved on and are with someone else now. Why can’t I? Why do I keep doing this to myself????????

GET OUT. NSFW.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1837

I would rather cut out both my eyes, so I can’t see to organize than I would do what you say with my stuff, I’ll throw it out, now go away.

I rather do that than hear your voice, telling me where to put it, like it it’s your choice. I do not need your help. I do not care, what you say about where to put what away.

It’s a mess, and I don’t care, what you say, and will not put that there. I don’t want advice, just to be left alone, give me back my stupid old phone. It has stuff on it that like, and yes it works, and I know I have two, but I do not want to deal with you, so get out now, go away.

It’s a mess because I am too, and I don’t want to deal with you, and will not listen to what you say, so throw it out and go, scram, stray.

Daily writing prompt

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

View all responses

I used to be completely self propelled, which may sound completely selfish, but hear me out, **** it, I am changing, and this explains how, and that I am realizing what an *** I have been.

I used to trust no one, because I can’t trust my own **** reality, so any interference with my goals.. was met with strong resistance, although I am trying to be more open to the idea that there are good people in this world. I am beginning to trust the advice of a couple close friends, who have become the only people in my life that have began to shift what I believe to be my goals, and by shift I mean establish, and completely alter, by making it possible for me to even have goals to begin with.

I am eternally grateful to these people, and I am so happy to have them in my life, they are truly the first and only friends I have ever had. The toxic people I surrounded myself with prior to quitting my old drinking/using life style are not even considered in the same category.

These people, have the ability to alter my goals. They are more respected in opinion than my opinion itself. I have never had friends before these people. They change my goals every day, by adding new layers of insight to the foundation of who I even am. I did not know this, until very recently, and still do not even know it now. I am learning who I am through the relationships with others I have begun to form now. They are shifting my ideas of who I am, what I could be, and helping me form new goals.

I am looking at you, and wonder how you do that?

That standing upside down thing? That standing inverted thing?

How did you make the world flip over?

I don’t get it…

Please come closer..

I also would like to know…

Why my legs hurt and feel like they may go

Out from under me….

Any minute…

I can see you know by your grimace…

You seem to know something I do not…

Now please tell me….

My face is hot with…

Worry…

Please…

I can’t feel…

My.. knees…

Let go, your hanging upside down from a tree. The ground is right below you, let go, and it will catch you, you can even touch it, just open your eyes, you have your eyes shut, you are seeing things not there, your eyes are shut, open them, and get down from hanging upside down.

Oh.

Thank you.

Daily writing prompt

How has technology changed your job?

View all responses

The internet thinks I have a job, that is great.

I have no job, internet.

But, if I did it would be this blog, and helping my friend sell her items, helping my family start a re-sale business, so…

I guess it gave me a job?

Employer-self

Enabled by the world wide web of

Uncrossing the webs of lies of a liar.

Thank you internet, I appreciate it.

https://fivedotoh.com/2023/03/25/fowc-with-fandango-jovial/

“When we say that a man is jovial in disposition, we are conscious that we are using the name of the great Roman god in vain,”.

Funk, Wilfred, Word Origins and Their Romantic Stories, Page 28

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.

Pages: 1 2

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.

**** me.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/4623530678

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/sunday-confessionals-the-sun/

I burn human skin.

I seer, penetrate, and wear thin.

I also divide day and night, I break, I shed light, I am a divider, a shadow boxer, intoxicating, so elating, soul frustrating, so frustrating….

Focus point,

Pointed at you, who thinks of dark poison, poised to focus on death, I am clearly’s soul death, and resurrection as a phoenix, fire bird, made heroic, died with heroine, and fire driven to be something else, but life on shelf, with bottles that are empty.

I am your sun, your moon, the stars, telling you it is okay, to step into the light of day.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/4621730431

 She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind, she did not know what she would end to find, but existed in a deep and soul entangling bind of mind.

She climbed up a mountain, searching in night, digging for something, existing in fight, she was sure of something, that was the light, that stood there before her, illuminating night, it was the only, thing she could see, and she followed it silent, hoping to see, an end to the darkness, nothing but that, she desired nothing, only a cap, on sadness so deep it drowned her soul, making her drink, making her toke, and poke,

She  She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind,

She gritted her teeth and began the climb, To a unified soul and a beautified mind, she did not know what she would end to find, but existed in a deep and soul entangling bind of mind.

She climbed up a mountain, searching in night, digging for something, existing in fight, she was sure of something, that was the light, that stood there before her, illuminating night, it was the only, thing she could see, and she followed it silent, hoping to see, an end to the darkness, nothing but that, she desired nothing, only a cap, on sadness so deep it drowned her soul, making her drink, making her toke, and poke, 

She desired nothing, only a cure, existing in sorrow, being in whir. Desiring nothing, seeking to find, cure to addiction, to disease of mind. She is me, clearly, but not anymore, they is my name, not like before, I am no longer in darkness, I have seen light, I have the cure, the end to the night, this is for those, seeking to find, a solution to the darkness existing in addicted mind, I speak of nothing other than cure, take me or leave me I am not sore.

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

I turn on my computer, and open a word file, got mail from myself.

YOU SUCK, and I hope you die.

Schizophrenic email is awesome, so glad I opened it.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/13680591/posts/4621777173

They tell me,

“Anger or Defiance is not Polite Behavior.”

I think that is a load of ****.

If I kick this chair, over and over till it breaks, and then say I am sorry over and over, then I did not make a mistake. I am not good at give and take, because it is all your fault, because you take, take, take. So I am going to have to break, break, break

This chair, right now.

SMASH.

I am not a fan of chairs anyway, they are stupid. I don’t like something telling me how to sit. I will sit, however I want. I don’t need a stupid chair.

Look at you, stupid chair, lying in the floor? Who is sitting up now?? Neither of us. I am sorry, by the way, someone nice probably made you, and I ruined it.

****.

Daily writing prompt

Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

View all responses

I had this teacher in 8th grade who had all of us do this writing anthology, all of us meaning even those of us with learning disabilities, I have hydrocephalus, so I am bad at math, and they pegged me into the classes that were for those with learning disabilities even though I am not bad at English or writing, which did focused on remedial skills, and I was bored, and sat there and did not pay attention, because I was not meant to be in that class. I was one of the kids with an IEP. Individual education plan, which said that I had learning disabilities, but due to a lack of understanding of the brain because they are teachers not doctors ,they thought I had learning disabilities in everything not just math and geography. I am visually/spatially challenged due to hydrocephalus. Seeing the reason for See Clearly?

This woman made everyone do the anthology and used my anthology as a reason to fight for me the next year to not be in remedial English in HS. She also said this to me.

“If you don’t deal with your anger, you are going to ruin your life, and you can use the writing to do that. You like it, and it is a positive outlet,”.

I wish I had listened, but she still remains the most influential teacher in my life, I would not have kept writing if it wasn’t for her. I just always thought my writing was awful. I just did it instead of crying…..

I used to wash my hands a lot, when I was so elated, that I could have been instated to a psych ward for lack of a pillow because I hadn’t slept in days, because I was so happy

To pace around looking for a place to sleep where no one could

Steal everything I own, hurt me, kill me, or follow me for the rest of my life, so I decided to cause my own strive instead, sitting and consuming my own caustic poisons in dark rooms with friends in that shrouded themselves in clothing that hide their face, like I hid my face, because we hated ourselves so much we desired only to be not there at all, so high above you all… but not really….

How low can I go… I don’t know.. have you ever slept in 30 degree weather in New Mexico in the rain or sleet because you spent all your money on things that were not food or shelter?

Do you know what I felt there?

Over the line…

In decline…

Life resigned…

To a mind…..

In pain..

Life down..

The drain….. A human stain on the brain of a person who is now so different.. I am trying to forget, but have not yet, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I don’t know how to move on, and least for today.. I am singing different song..

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…

Peace.

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 am still freaking blown away by this, and thinking of changing the name of this site.

That is all.

Daily writing prompt

What do you wish you could do more every day?

View all responses

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.

It’s blurry, and I can see a light house, but I don’t know why, I don’t know where I am, and why I am standing, right here right now.

I feel like I am going to throw up. I am moving forward slowly. I reach out for something to steady myself and can’t find anything, I think I am on a dock somewhere, or a board walk. Probably a board walk, a dock would be moving more, but I am dizzy, and it starts to feel like it might be a dock…

I lurch forward…… vomiting on my shoes..

I realize it is a dock, and dip my foot in the water…..

It cleans off the vomit.

I sit down.

There are people talking about a restaurant next door, it smells like Indian food. I can smell garlic and curry.

I stand up and go behind the restaurant.

There is a blanket on a broken chair.

How convenient.

I am crazy, so my brain can do interesting things, like simulate feelings that make me feel like I am…

Far far away on a very elevated hill,

and walking down the hill feels as bad in real life as walking down a steep hill would in elated life.

I feel like garbage right now, and it is all because I flipped out for I don’t know how long… I am not sure… would have to look back through this, and I don’t think that is a good idea..

I am just going to move on for once…

Here’s to walking forward instead of staring backwards at back words.

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.

Simply. Truthfully.

Free of you and everything you do.

To mold me to be you.

I have been thinking a lot about my resentful nature recently. That is why I have been revealing who I am on here slowly, instead of sticking with my original rage fueled fake persona. Something somebody said today at lunch really stuck with me. I am not going to get into the details of it on here, but they basically revealed to me through what they said that I have been killing myself with my own hands, by refusing to give up resentments I hold towards myself and others, and that it is literally the equivalent of me being more okay with choking myself out, instead of just simply telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

I felt today so far like the universe through the power of something higher than me has been trying to save my life, because of how close I came over the past couple of days to deciding to give up on myself and go back to getting drunk or high.

I am so relieved to know that does not have to be the way it goes, and I simply have to be willing to do what people tell me to do.

Thank you, everything above me.

Damien

“If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it.”

Willy wonka

Seventh Circle: Middle ring: In this ring are the suicides, who are transformed into gnarled thorny bushes and trees.

Dante Alighieri, Dante’s Inferno

I am the time breaker of minds, the dealer of time in items, for the price of penny for your thoughts-

YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOW MINE

How does it feel baby? Is it making you a little… crazy?

No, it’s not…..

I am……..

I like dimes… dimes are neat… I make dimes on the street… I don’t eat because meat is toxic… I like consuming……

METH

From them

Funny spelling, does it speak to you sweetheart?

You are so clever speaking to me with MY voice.

It’s his voice, you are nothing.

It’s my voice.

Sweet. A 20… I make more money when I sound funny… hahahahahahahah..

Look at me, I can run through life so free, no need of sleep or fear of pain, no wonder my life is

DOWN THE DRAIN

End transmission.

https://www.aagrapevine.org/sobriety-calculator

This is really important me now, because I have realized I like all of the people I am talking to on here, and what an *** I was before doing all of this so I am going to periodically post this on here, to keep myself in check, because who knew…. people before me knew things about how to do this…. I am such an…….. ***

I am really starting to enjoy life now, which is awesome. I never thought I would enjoy anything as much as being ****ed up beyond recognition.

Thank you to all of the people who have kept me going.

Damien

I am so excited to tell you that that Louise Swanson’s debut thriller End of Story is out today. It is published by Hodder & Stoughton. The year is 2035 and novels have been banned. However Eve is a writer, so for her it is impossible not to write, and to want to share fiction. […]

#newbook End of Story by Louise Swanson @LouiseWriter @HodderBooks — EmmabBooks.com

Check this out, end censorship!

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/147347238/posts/4271

I used to be chained and bound, to tree with roots on poison ground, soiled with years of heroic consumption of heroin, meth alcohol, and death, and destruction.

I used to fire fire in vain effort to inject in vein with deathly effort, now instead I have developed a new addiction, a mesmerization with words and fiction, instead of misery mercy through diction. Thank you wordpress for keeping me sane, for saving my life, and keeping from destruction in vein in vain.

Mercy is found when, reflections are made, that bring the eye from ground to sky, that cast the eyes to that which is hire than anything I can fire in vain effort, to fill my blood that is so vital to my survival, with poison instead of being what it is, a gift of life to a soul in diseased strive.

Merci, Merci,

Mercy, Mercy.

I thank you from the misery of addicted souls everywhere

Damien.

We always had terriers when I was growing up and I have a soft spot for this breed.  This west highland terrier was enjoying the park as much as we were.

A FINE DAY OUT — BELINDA GROVER PHOTOGRAPHY

You keep me going, reminding me of things I love more than substances I hate. I want to get a dog so bad. Thank you for helping me stay clean and sober.

Check out this kick ass, blog and recipe.

We eat very seasonally. In the spring we eat asparagus as often as we can, which is at least 3 or 4 times a week with spinach or green salad on the other days. During the summer it’s green beans and summer squash every day for months. For fall and most of the winter we… Chicken, […]

Chicken, Potato, & Cauliflower Gratin — Thyme for Cooking — My Meals are on Wheels

Photo by Jordan Benton on Pexels.com Clock’s movements quietly advance Calendar pages keep turning Realizing now, time so precious Yesterday, never returning   Today, now galloping away Each moment quickly discarded Vanishing minutes tearing up Uncertain time left unguarded   Tomorrow arrives much too soon Yesterday feeling incomplete Searching for one more treasured hour Empty […]

Time So Precious — Big Sky Buckeye

Thank you for your inspiring words, they keep me going, I was having a hard time over the last few days, and you keep me going in the right direction. This post is the only way I know to say thank you.

“Keep in mind that I’m crazy, won’t you?”

Girl with the dragon tattoo, Stieg Larsson

Daily writing prompt

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

View all responses

Something like this, in tattoo form, right on the opposing side of my elbow, on both arms, because it reminds me why I don’t want to do drugs anymore.

You don’t listen to me, when I beg you, do not ****ing call me that ever again. If you do stay the **** away from me. I am not your girl, I never was, and if you want that GET THE **** away from me, because you will not get what you want from me. You will not get someone saying pretty things to you, that is not me, never ****ing was. Sorry, you don’t like it…. stay away.

I am not the universe’s gift to anyone, you don’t own me, and I will not do anything that is not good for me, and that includes listening you say that **** to me over and over and over, it is not some magical incantation that causes me to be what you want. **** you. *** your believe that I am something you own. I am no one’s. GET THE **** out with that ****.

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

I am sorry for the exposure to my… insanity. I am just being honest, and thank you for accepting me, it means the world. I am grateful. That is the word that describes me, a description of how I feel, not what I have wrong with me. I am so thankful.

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

I am your brain on drain, on chaos reign

On meditate on pain

On mind gone in sane

An dilation of an inpatient who is not patient because I am a lunatic who used to use drugs to silence my thoughts and now I live in perpetual CHAOS

Are you having a bad day?

No, actually… GET AWAY

I am just the experience of chaos thought, I am having a continuous experience of this over and over and over.

One word that describes me

INSANE

JOKE

If something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be a warning. It may be The Omen.

The omen

Daily writing prompt

What is one word that describes you?

View all responses

****

There it is, the one word that describes me, blanked out, so I have no idea what it is, and you can guess the mystery behind its four lettered character.

The answer doesn’t matter. Even though the answer is the entire point of answering this question, or is it? Or is the point…. the characterization of a member of society who was before unclear?

Omen.

It’s all for me…

ahahahhahhahhhahahhahhhahhahahhahhhhahahhahahahahhahhahhahahhah

What is one word that describes you?

DUDE. NO WAY. I KNOW I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT **** my other answer, I did not remember this when posting it.

THIS RULES. I AM NOT FAILING TODAY!

Sobriety Calculator

https://www.recoveryconnection.com/recovery-tools/sobriety-calculator/

I am putting this in here so I remember where to find this.

Dude, no way. In 3 days, I will have 90 days, I never get past 61. NO ****ing way. I can’t believe that ****. I can’t believe that my reaction is a mental high five, and writing this on here, and not running for the door and ruining it. ****, I am going to make it to 90 days. I am actually able to do this. I can’t believe this. I actually want this, which means I am not full of ****, which means I am not as much of **** as I thought.

This means I actually deserve to pick up the scattered road kill, that is my soul, dust it off and put it back together.

I can’t believe this… I thought I would have failed by now.

I am so ****ing proud of myself right now, I have never made it this long, and I feel good about this, I am not such a bad person after all.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/22/your-daily-word-prompt-Particular-ydwordprompt-March-22-2023/

Trigger warning: This is about drug seeking and effects on my ability to be confident in friendships I have, due to emotional immaturity. Drugs mentioned. Do not read if sensitive to this kind of thing.

For no particular reason, I am very sad right now, so I think about the particles in the universe, I think about pieces of sand, so tiny, and so together, part of a body of sand, and I long to be a particle of sand, that is part of something else, and never alone, but I am always alone now, and I am so sad.

I say no particular reason, but that is a lie, I know exactly the reason why I am alone, I chose this every time I used the phone to call someone to pack away all the feelings I have, everything I want to say with acquisition instead of inquisitive mission to know anyone but those who are on a mission, now I am in a peculiar position. I don’t know how to make friends, and I know I already have them, but I don’t know how to have them, I don’t know what to do next, so I am stuck in the land of anxious guess, addicted to pain, and in a land of washing rain, why can’t it wash away the stains on my damaged brain. I feel like I will always be insane.

In vein. In vain. In vein. In pain. Disdain. No more pain. Please send me soul cleansing rain.

I know you don’t know me, but I am lonely, and I want to know you, whoever you are, whoever is lonely too.

I am very sad, and want someone just like you. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why, but you are like me, and we cry with similar cut eyes.

I hope you are okay, I am not. My head is hurting, my hands are hot.

My heart is broken, I am alone, and I hope you hang on, person who is also by unanswered phone. Please don’t be sad, I am sad too.

I don’r want for you anything I feel too.

Can we just pretend for today? Just pretend that we already know each other so you will be okay?

I am lonely too please don’t give up.

I want to meet you. Don’t die before we meet up.

It is an insane release of tension to write dark horror. I don’t care what anyone thinks… I am going to do what I want now. I am an ***.

I am trying to be more honest and am not going to do the whole fake it thing, I am still the same **** with dark thoughts, I think the key is to find outlets for my rage issues and not hurt myself or bite people’s heads off. I think it is a good outlet for repressed aggression and makes it easier for me to not lash out at people around me. I am very passive aggressive and have a lot of repressed rage I channel into writing…

Sorry.

Damien

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.

Damien/Amanda

“Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon earth.”

Homer, The odyssey

I used to live in the woods, really I did. I spent an entire 8 months in the Oregon dunes, somewhere and everywhere in Oregon. I lived there and survived by clamming, and panhandling for food money, and don’t feel bad for me, I made 200 dollars a day, so very promptly after getting there, I developed a nasty attraction to bitter rocks that ate a hole through my hands and my soul.

They chased me to California. I walked there, I think I mentioned that before, high as a kite, I flew on the feet of the dragon, and the wings of fallen dreams to the state of California, with an angel of mercy sent to me whose name ironically was Chris, he sang like a bird the entire way. He was a beautiful singer. My arrogance and pride caused me to walk away, literally from one of the kindest human beings I have ever met in my life, without even saying goodbye. He screamed after me, and I ran, fleeing kindness for California, where I would meet what I was running to, an empire of pain on the sullied streets, I thought I desired so much. I am sorry Chris, you were kind to me, and I should have at least said goodbye.

https://wordpress.com/tag/simply6minutes

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.

Damien/Amanda

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.

What was the best compliment you’ve received?

I no longer care about bringing praise to myself, but on shifting the eyes of those who experience the pain that was so real to me for so long. I want to help those who experience pain, any pain, like me, away from that pain towards something, anything that stops that pain, even if it is just for a second, if it can be for a second or for an hour, or forever. I want to help, because that is what I feel like something else higher than me wants me to do, so when I am inspired to, I am doing this, as an atonement for a life of selfishness, when people tell me they see this. I am happy because that means I am doing the right thing, the thing I know I am supposed to do instead of serving me, like I used to.

Look not to what I say or do, but to the source of where my work leads you, away from the pain in my words, and at what saves me, whatever you think that is. I am asking you to always reflect on joy and see pain, but not dwell on it.

I am complimented when my work helps someone, because then and only then do I know I am doing what I am supposed to.

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.

Miser

“from Latin avaritia “greed, inordinate desire,” (https://www.etymonline.com/word/avarice#:~:text=1300%2C%20%22inordinate%20desire%20of%20gaining,%2D%20%22to%20be%20eager%2C%22)

Which makes me wonder.

Desire

“to wish or long for, express a wish to obtain”

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=desire

Yearning

“to strive, be eager, desire, seek for, beg, demand,”

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=yearning

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 borrowed time, I know this now, I experienced more of it than most people. I did not realize at the time that I was not borrowing it… well not exactly, I was being lent extra time by something that deals in a currency of spare change. I was being lent time in exchange for something, a deal made with something beyond my understanding, that knew me better than I knew myself, than I know myself now. This force knows everyone. It understands everything, and you can make deals with it, without knowing even. You can make deadly bargains that you don’t know the nature of that are not dealt to you with good or bad intention, simply intention itself, raw intention, raw will, there are forces in this universe, propelled in a direction of will, of will to be as they are supposed to, and if you fight those forces, you will experience, pain.

It is this pain which I fight to reverse now. I have realized recently that the assertion of deadly force of dominance is the opposite of what the universe desires. I have been made aware by the pulling in directions, that there is a force which punishes the assertion of will over the forces of a balanced system. This is all that I know right now.

See Clearly

I am running not from something, but through the earth. I have the ability to move quicker, in my mind anyway than I had before when I was getting high, I realize now how much it was making me slower, I was just slowing down the processes of my mind, which is stupid because this feels amazing. I do not have to worry about anything, because I am no longer doing anything wrong, I can just walk through life unperturbed by anything, seeing everything in clarity instead of the dull blur of drug and alcohol induced psychosis. I notice everything, and am able to act naturally without agonizing over anything anymore, now don’t get me wrong, I remember who I am and that this feeling will pass, but I know I will not forget this feeling. I will not be tempted to go back. I am done now, I have realized that I have something in me that is more valuable than any temporary high, I can choose to be whatever I want now.

I am free, released from the chains of addiction, no longer shackled to a life bound to a misery demon. I have had my mind cleansed, and I owe that to the earth, the sky, the stars, everything around me and above me, that was screaming at me to come back and do the sensible thing, be the human being I was meant to be, not the chaotic screaming infant dying in perpetual spinning spun hissy fit of life coming undone. I am so happy.

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.

Damien/Amanda

I feel really weird, I don’t know what exactly just sunk in, in my mind, but I am done. I don’t care anymore. They can do their thing, it is not my problem anymore, I don’t care anymore. I don’t even like them anymore, why would I want to be with someone I don’t like anyway, why does it matter who I thought someone was if that is not who they actually are. I feel.. great.. actually, like I had food poisoning or something and it just passed… I guess I got everything I had to say out of my system. I think it was something about writing about moving on that just clicked with me. I just don’t answer the phone, simple. I get a new number. I am done… nothing more needs to be done about any of it, we have no more ties to each other.. I am done.

Oh my god…. I am done….

I never have to deal with that again.. This is awesome.

I don’t even have any words.. I am free.

Wow.

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

The sound of automation is mesmerizing, the clicking, the shuffling, the beeping the whirring, shoving and blended talking of all those on the train, who do not know me, and don’t know anything about my past. They have no judgement of me, preconceived or otherwise, busy with their own business. I fade into the background, and watch a world I left behind for a dance with a siren who wanted to rip my soul from my eyes.

My eyes are free now, and look around, not dominated by watching her, they are free to be their own, not called to the service of a master, they watch as the passengers go about their quiet business, and I am inspired by their composure, ability to be so normal, the train is a zen garden of little people, not screaming in overinflated hot blow up doll chaos, they keep to themselves, and I keep to mine, in my mind. I am thinking about leaving this place, misery, and doing something else, thinking and sure that this time, I mean it, because she should not own my words anymore.

I am going to board a new train of thought, and then hopefully get myself together enough to go on a train and do something else.

How would you rate your confidence level?

10. I am very very fast. I can run faster than anyone I know, most notably faster than this guy whose girlfriend paid me back my… rent money. I loaned it to him.. because I am a nice person? It was 400 dollars I got for standing in traffic at a light, and I am not the kind of person who looks good doing that… so sometimes they pay me to move, it takes a couple hours to make 400 dollars, like 8.

I stood there for 8 hours and had enough to pay the rent for the month or um… make tragic mistakes, you know dice roll. I decided to play double or nothing with my friend who is my business associate at well, well after this, his girl was my business associate and he was my **** for about 2 months. He wanted the power back from his girl.

I have a very um… aggressive approach to business, so people give me what I want.

Being impervious to death helps too… which is why I am turning my life around because I am realizing how I write this what an *** I was, because I think that something saved me all these times, and I proceeded to give it the finger, so it chopped my fingers off? Or the tips of three of them? I don’t think He or them or it really did that… I think it was MRSA and me being a ****.

Moral of the story, I am an arrogant **** , but I am trying to tone that down so… 5 on confidence..

It’s pouring rain, I have been walking a long time, pacing, in the darkness and lamenting the fact that is raining and I am cold, and wet and tired, in this moment I forget the day’s events. I forget begging the universe for a shower, saying I was thirsty and could use a drink of water, crying for someone to help me.

My head is very loud, racing thoughts that sometimes threaten to drive me mad, screaming at me, and a lot of the time it is hard to hear anything at all. I am trapped in my own head sometimes, a prisoner to my racing thoughts, chained to the walls of my mind like an inmate. My hands are hot, because I have my fists clenched, my palms are bleeding on both hands, and they are burning, the rain feels good on my skin, kissing it with the raindrops, it takes me out of my angry ranting thoughts and reminds me of earlier in the day. I think I am crying, but can’t tell the difference between my tears and the rain, the only indication that I am crying is that I feel like I am gasping for air and have been not able to catch my breath.

This is just a memory I have, I don’t know what it is about. I am not sure.

There is a gate, it is up ahead of me. I open it and I sit down, I am compelled to look around, and start looking through a flower patch, there are bones in it. I start crying again, and remember someone I knew who I was looking for, for some reason I think these might be their bones. Something is telling me this, I do not know why. I feel like I am being watched, but can’t keep myself from falling forward and curling up into a ball, I am crying harder now.

I don’t know who is hunting us, more and more of my friends disappear every day and it is not by any of our hands. I have lost five friends recently, and they have never found the bodies, and I am suspicious because I don’t think they died of overdoses, and I know it was not by my hands or anyone else I knows hands, but it is being made to look like that, it is being made to look like the deranged lunatics are taking each other out, and I am afraid, because I don’t know who or what is behind this, but it terrifies me. I am afraid to sleep so I engage in something I thought I told myself I would stop doing, so I don’t fall asleep. I feel like I am going throw up.

How would you rate your confidence level?

I do not have confidence in myself, because I am not supposed to, I speak of matters I do not understand, and am a two-spirited human being or two human beings fighting for redemption at once. They were paired with each other to save each other. They were both chained to a world of addiction and Misery. I have been unchained from that, and I feel like something helped me, don’t know what it is, but I can’t keep being a selfish self asserting jerk.

Amanda and I are supposed to help each other, because we are both half people, weak and need another person… We have been saved from death because we made a deal with something, over and over in foxholes, we cried out to the universe, screaming in madness, we begged, pleaded with anything willing to help us, anything that would listen, I didn’t care what it was that saved me, saved her. I just wanted to survive, and not be in that place, and see the things they were doing to people to protect their drugs.

I know now that I was a child having a hissy fit. I am done with that now. I am going to try to do everything I can to do the right thing. My confidence is now in that realization and in that I have it within me to do the right thing.

Rushing through everything, to serve you, the way you wanted it.

I devoted my whole life to you, now I am haunted, by the hole, you burned

In my soul, and mind, in bind, with time, maybe I can put you behind, like the piano we pushed down the street, in the middle of the night, and then the fight we had,

Because you know I am bad?

I wanted it to be fair, but you didn’t care, my **** your ****

Your **** Your ****

Too bad, so sad, push your own piano next time, hunny.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/03/18/weekend-writing-prompt-303-enterprise/

en·ter·prise
noun

1.
a project or undertaking, typically one that is difficult or requires effort.
“a joint enterprise between French and Japanese companies”
Similar: undertaking, endeavor, venture, pursuit, exercise, activity, operation, exploit, mission, deed, act, action, move, measure, task, business, affair, proceeding, scheme, plan, plan of action, program, campaign, project, proposal, proposition, suggestion, idea, conception, caper, wheeze
2.
a business or company.
“a state-owned enterprise”

(dictionary.com)

Thus far, I have been a tool of a criminal enterprise: street drug addict supporting through undertaking and engaging in endeavors, ventures, pursuits, activities, operations, exploits, missions, deeds of deceit, acts of impunity, actions of cruelty, moves of strategic acquisition, measures of unkindness, tasks of business with the affairs proceeding to schemes or plans of action, programs of simulated pain, on a campaign or project of life down drain.I am so done now.

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.

Yours,

Damien/Amanda

How would you rate your confidence level?

Either one or ten, no in between, going back and forth minute by minute, based on reflections on pain and suffering or me being selfish or kind, over and over and over and over all day, presented on the internet for the amusement of the viewers of this blog because it makes me feel better and is part of a larger recovery process, and experiment with trying to grow as a person.

____________________________________________________________________________

Ticking time Expose

I am the mind of Damien de Soto.

I am the mind of the reckless psycho.

The path of the fool traveling in the dark, the tale of the one who twists and turns in light that is stark.

The act of wondering why you hate yourself while glorifying ego.

The walk in the park and shot at a flying bald eagle.

I am offense at everything you say, and the desire to simultaneous desire to defend everything I say.

I am addiction to stop but also to addiction to go.

I am yes, but also I am no.

I am bipolar, I am paranoid. I am insane.

I am addicted addict with no drug, and now thinking brain.

I am ****ed and painful but no longer lying, I am crying, screaming but at least learning and no longer dying.

Peace.

What makes you most anxious?

Time makes me scream, it makes me dream of things that don’t make sense or cents, that is not true liar, you have made plenty of money in time.

Yeah, but I spent it all on dimes.. I traded it in for dimes at the cash machine.

I am such a ****.

My life is a long episode of Jerry Springer.

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

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

Throw up?

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

Yeah, because VODKA SUCKS!
Good one.

Clearly.

I congratulate me on a day where I was only an ***hole last night, and complimented random individuals in the food store aggressively.

They seemed confused.

I have OCD, along with the other litany of problems I have already listed here, heh. I got my hair cut, which is awesome because I didn’t have to pay someone in drugs to shave it all off because homeless people can’t cut hair, and I wasn’t so itchy that this would seem like a necessary choice, so yay me for getting my haircut and getting a normal hair cut so I don’t have to shave my head again. That sucked, I think I mentioned the whole mohawk **** thing… but if I didn’t some ***hole shaved my head into a split in half mohawk, and told everyone to look for mohawk ****.

Short sweet, and very fun for mohawk ****. I got a lot of sympathy, and a lot of free items.. and they found out the wrath of mohawk ****. Then mohawk **** needed to leave, because there was a rumor that I had a twin and one of us was a girl and the other was a guy and the only difference was the voice… convenient… till they found out we were both the same person and it was me beating my ass not my twin brother or vice versa… very bad con…

I threw my phone in the river at around the same time because I thought someone tapped it looking for mohawk **** because tricking junkies is a high crime… and people really give a **** about that kind of thing…. or something I thought when I was way too high…

My dad is a really great person, we had a really good time, he was talking to me about his life, making me laugh, and we went to a really good restaurant and I told him I am done with drugs and booze the rest of my life. I also got to make plans with my uncle to see him at Christmas for the first time in ten years, and say I was sorry for being a lying ***hole.

All in all a successful day for mohawk ****, or me with a shorter hair cut that looks nothing like that at all.

Peace

Damien.

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…

Them

Meth

Same word re-arranged…

Item

Time

Same word re-arranged.

Heroin

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.

Funny right?

I used to just consume ****ing other things, and for some reason thought if I drank water sometimes, I would feel okay. I think that is why I was losing pieces of my hands… stupid…

It’s kind of cool though… You don’t need the tips of all of your fingers, to be functional. The right thumb thing was the worst.. I am missing half of it.

Damien

What makes you most anxious?

I am such a ****.

I just made a really bad joke, and feel bad about it. I suck at life.

Explanation: Shocking, I am trusted to not have to leave, if there is no one here to watch me…

Now this…

Pond, not Stream of Chaos

I am a duck, apparently, because unknowingly

I have been teaching myself to be less

BANG EXPLODE

Like that, so now I can be alone, and not have people

Worry about me, which is

EXCELLENT

Because it also makes me trust me

_______________________________________________________________

I used to be constantly floating from place to place,

In a race with the human race to consume my tomb in the form of drugs and doom and alcohol which I would viciously consume, in doomed ferocious style, in front of all I know

sowing shame and guilt while also showing pain and guilt through vicious attack on self but also on others eyes, making people cry without knowing why because I am selfish. I am becoming not

I think… I guess.. don’t know…

_________________________________________________

I am a duck in a pond, that is just okay enough with me for now, to not drown

I am not going down

Because I don’t want to

Un-spun I am no longer undone.

I am glad to be trusted, un-dusted, still rusted, but dusting off.

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.

I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.

I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own

Maker

Breaker

Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.

Facts.

I loved you, any of you who was with me, I thought… but now I don’t know, because it always ends the same

You are insane

THEN GO! I KNOW. I KNOW. I DON’T CARE. I DON’T NEED YOU. NEVER DID NEVER WILL I HAVE MYSELF

All you need is love..

All you need is to shut the **** up.

I need no one, but myself. I need to put the drugs and alcohol on the shelf, that is what I need to do, and I can’t do that with them, I can’t know that I am not going to do this again.

I can’t even be my own friend damn it.

I know, Damien.

I break up with me, every day.

I know, Damien.

I know, Amanda.

I know, me.

I know both of us.

I hate me too.

How the **** am I supposed to like anyone else if I can’t even look in the mirror, I hate everything and everyone because this sucks and it is hard, and you make me nervous because I know everyone is thinking the same damn thing that I think about me

YOU SUCK YOU SUCK YOU SUCK
You suck?

That’s what you think?

That’s what we think. They think. I think.

Do you think this is fun for anyone, who the **** would want to be around this? I don’t even want to and I am this…

Then stop doing it.

Oh.

What makes you most anxious?

I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..

Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant

To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…

I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…

and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..

I sleep in oblivion because obviously sleep must be partially that

Because I can’t remember it and that is oblivion right?

That is what is means?

Ob-liv-ion

obviously, I am a living ion.

That just popped into refutation

Def- the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening.

Haha. Universe slapping me in the ****ing face, arrogant ******* that I am

Oblivion

Deaf,

Hey Clearly, you hear me

Deaf?

Death?

Oblivion- the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening.

HISTORICAL•LAW

amnesty or pardon.

Why are you obsessed with the word ***hole?

Hmm… being dead or asleep, meaning having no power and receiving pardon or amnesty?

Sound familiar?

***hole.

Just realized I called myself my own ex-girlfriend…

Not intentional…

I just told people the truth so now I am going to die, I just told people the truth so now I have to STAB OUT BOTH MY EYES

I don’t know why I do this…

Because you love death’s kiss… ****

I don’t though really? Do I?

Yes, clearly…

My heart is pounding really fast… and I feel like I am going to crash into everything around me and I am dying but that is not real and I feel like I want.

Jump into a moving car.

SCAR SCAR SCAR SCAR
I am very far away from reality, circling a

DRAIN?

DRAIN

Dying human stain…. remove remove remove

remove remove me… from this..

You think this is going to work don’t you?

Yes.

No.

GO
SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW

In the darkness of night, no one can really see me, because I am not there at all, I am death’s call, I am the act of stall. I am the toll of the bell of the night, I am the activity of a dying fight, I am the passing of anxiety, I am the feeling dying slowly like everyone else, I am cares cast away on a shelf where they can’t touch me, because I am far away, they can’t touch you dumb*** they don’t know where you are… and aren’t interested in you and you are just trying to write to save you from drinking what is wrong with that?

Okay.

His name was Chris which is ironic, because he is a christian, so I think it is a set up somehow, like somehow someone is sending someone to spy on me and naming the characters they send after me in mocking style, because obviously I am that important right? Didn’t realize at the time, how ****ing narcissistic that was, and it is only now, that the paranoia is starting to fade, that there is not some secret plot to take me down specifically, because I am just a lying drug addict alcoholic, and I am not sure why being a serial killer sounded better than that… I have no idea.. it made me feel less powerless… I think.

I am very angry at myself about all this, because looking back at it, I realize how much of *** I was… how even though I thought I was always getting ripped of and deserved so much better, how much better could you expect your life to be when you are con-artist who panhandles for heroin, and basically tries to make people afraid to not give you money. I used to make 200 dollars a day doing this, the key was to look like you are going to rob them for more than they give you freely, and then if you get caught, you are a pretty girl, and you change your voice, and Damien is your ex boyfriend who put you up to it, and he hits you and you just want to get away.

I was such a piece of ****.

Damien

I love ya, hunny, and it shows, or showed, when things were going well, you know? When we were loaded with lots of cash, and didn’t have to worry about you stealing my ****ing stash, but now I am sorry sweetie, gotta go,

Because you know what, sorry, baby, we’re in a rut and as much as I love ya, you ****ing ****! I hate your stupid ugly guts, so take my money sweetie, I don’t need it, hope you like it, hope you keep it for longer than one day, because sorry dear, I am staying away.

I am walking to California, and so my dear, I am going to warn you if you come near me, I can say I will bite your head off, and make you pay, because I have a rare gift don’t you see and sounding like guy I still have these? So now with the power of two in one I am pimp and whore with loaded gun.

I will take out your eye, don’t touch me ****er, and if you say anything I will make sure your luck

Is in the ER ER ER ER

Damien/Amanda

I used to look in the mirror and see myself, and I would look into my own eyes, and swear I could see me winking at me, and then I would black out and become someone else, and wake up doing and saying things I didn’t mean, that were not violent they just didn’t make sense, and I never hurt anyone physically, but just embarrassed myself, and I think that is what this is all about, it is about the fact that I have something wrong with me that makes people look at me different, and it is easier for me if that is because I caused it. I preferred to scare people away, before they ran away because I lash out at people, think things that are not true and am literally always living in a reality that in some way is not real, it was easier to be completely unreal, and violent towards myself and hate others, so I could fund things that took me away from how I feel.

I built my life around drugs after getting my degree, I literally gave up at 21 and was content with getting hammered and then doing coke and uppers and then my ex and I broke up the first one that I lived with, and I ripped him off for 950 dollars and bought heroin.

I lived with this person who I used with for 3 or 4 years, in a glorified trap house, and then moved out because he ripped me off with another person who lived with me on the streets till I started getting ripped off by him and then left and walked from Oregon to Cali.

The stories you will read on here going forward are mostly from Cali. I lived on the streets there for a couple months by myself. It was very interesting.

Damien