Lovely Technicolor Angels from Hell

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Explanation: This is a journal style entry full of negativity or negative self-talk that I am trying to write out of my head, read with that in mind, do not read if you cannot handle dark horror dramatized fiction.

This is for you baby, you make me insane, you live in my brain, oh voice of disdain, making fun of voice of complain, you are mean, but succeed in drain, drain, drain, all pain from me, so I guess I can thank ya, right? Yeah, right…

Look at me, look at me, so wonderous and free.

NSFW: EXPLICIT CONTENT: NOT FOR SENSITIVE READERS: The Writhing Agony of Whining Morons

My hands hurt, my head hurt, and my brain hurts, so I have spent the entire day in bed feeling sorry for myself ansd watching television, and just got sick of my relentless whining enough to make jokes about it on the internet, because it makes my own resentment, or the voice of every person I have dated, shut the **** up, if I do it to myself instead.

That is the explanation for the plot of the story that is my life, talking at myself or to myself to stop the screaming of my brain at myself.

That good enough for you, *****???

Hope so, maybe then I will be able to chill the **** out.

Hahaha, it is kind of funny now though, the relentless pile of verbal trash I hurl at my own face…

Without you my life is hell, and though I live to tell, I can tell you I am quite unwell, I only talk to myself, and dream of bottles no longer on my shelf, and dirty pinging needles, and rocks that taste like batteries, it is quite sad, being this mad…

I have realized now I am insane, and that it was not my disdain for you that caused me to want to leave you there crying on my arm chair, playing with your pretty dark hair, you are on my brain, my mind, at the tip of my tongue, because I realize that I do not miss being spun as much as I miss fun.

My heart did beat for you once, and became slightly inflamed, fighting narcissism and posion in my veins.

For now I am alone, and maybe someday will bring myself out of myself, and finally use a phone to call someone other than myself.

Smoke

You stand out in my memory, smoke goddess, of midnight, standing with me in the fog, you and I, fought the day, you shrouded in red, and me shrouded in decay of my mind, unlike you, already gone, already mad, I stood staring out at the river, ranting about nothing, ranting about everything, speaking nothing, speaking everything, talking about the universe, but also saying nothing at all, you were very unique and also every woman I ever met.

That is one of the worst things I have ever heard you say. Every woman is the same?

No, this one was just unreal, and seemed like everyone and no one.

Okay, better, thank you.

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.

Did he give you the cold shoulder?

My icy shoulder warms for you.

You are really creepy.

I am not, she warms my shoulder, with her nice eyes.

You were perfect, and I ruined you.

I touched your face with vanity, the loving glow of insanity.

She was perfect and you put make-up on her.

I like to ruin the things I admire.

Why?

It makes them insecure like me.

Women are not things.

Oh, yeah right.

You are such an ***hole.

I met you and began to think instantly of the holy trinity, not because of anything to do with religion, but because you seemed to me to be so divine there appeared to be three of you.

This is how you looked to me, not how you appeared to others

I had always questioned my ability to be like those who looked like me, and you affirmed every doubt I had, because I did not envy you, but wanted only to be someone you wanted, and you wanted someone the opposite of you.

I am not the opposite of you, but I am not sure what that means, because I am not what I am either. I am nothing, I think. I am constantly changing, reflecting only the light of other’s saving grace. I am in a place of constant lostness, at least when staring at your face.

Color me rainbow

Color me dark

I am forgetting where I start, and

Where Hell ends, looking instead at the ends of your hair, I am not all there.

I should not stare.

I am tragic hole in a human’s soul.

I am insane.

I am nothing.

I am nothing.

I must be something, but I am nothing.

I am the abandonment of happiness, in exchange for soul, solely eaten by darkness, I am infestation of human soul, solely consumed by dark quest.

In the dark night, a knight on a chess board eats my chest. In the darkness, a night eats my chess piece, I am the infestation of a mind lost.

I am the cost of being in a unhealthy relationship.

I relate to nothing.

I am nothing.

I loved her so much

I loved her so much

I loved her so little, because I am not capable of love.

I am the act of push, then shove.

I miss you, greatly. I was consumed by you.

Please, please, please, let this feeling go away.

Standing at the ocean, a human being looks out into the all consuming darkness….

I am oh so rich, with vice added to a face that asked for nothing but sigh, you gave me nothing but advice.

Isn’t it great? Isn’t it neat?

Aren’t we so very completely in love?

Tell me how much, I need you baby, tell me how much I want you, and I will repeat it so, so, sweetly.

You had my heart

You had my heart and you broke it in half, now looking back, I have to just laugh.

I am no longer resentful

That is a lie.

I know it is, but what am I?

You are a liar.

Thanks, knew that.

I can’t recover from that one, switch tracks.

---

I love you, and see you in everything I do, baby, sweety, honey, isn’t it so funny, when I do it right back to you, mocking you, mocking me, mocking you, and forever we go into the lane, of please baby, please, I am on my knees, stay with me forever and ever, I love you forever and ever, Lydia is divine, so truly and completely sublime.

Ode to 51/50

I am ever so nifty, so crafty

I am an ***hole, I love myself, I am forever, in love with a shelf, full of madness, of mixed drinks, and lost drugs, I am all acting like we are so so in love.

I love you so much, you are so great, you make me feel

You have my heart, sweetheart

You are nothing, ***hole.

Point taken, and proven, so I guess you’re permanent?

I am ever-present, yes.

Color me green, color me striken, I am the quickness of those in dark sickness

You are bitter Hell in a painful shell, of everything on which I doomed to dwell, pain spell, rescast with eyes focused on a past of lack.

Ow, you burned me.

I forgot how I like talking to you, baby.

Me too.

Hear me out, okay.

Everytime, you would scream and shout, everytime I was without anything you needed to be happy, I would say, if I am so bad, why don’t I just go away?

Why do you demand every time that I stay?

This girl, not this one, but the one I am refering to still tries to contact me, I am not writing about resentment.

Yes, you still are, but better.

Okay, I will take that.

What is meant is that I am re-sent back, every time you to try to contact me, everytime you try to re-start this, this begins again for me.

What do you want?

You were right, and I was wrong.

You are alright and I am gone, I will stay gone. I don’t like hurt feelings.

Lies.

Okay, well I don’t like her hurting them.

Lies.

Why?

You are not comfortable alone, which is why you talk to yourself online.

I do that because I am crazy.

You do that because you are too lazy to do anything to get better, so you pretend this helps, when it is really you stroking your own sore ego.

Ouch.

You’re welcome, I am usually the one saying that to you, so now you got a taste of your own medicine, and got to be the bad guy for once. How did it feel?

Like I was sitting back and listening to you talk, but I was actually present in my own body, having to experience me talking, and be completely coherent during it.

Hahaha! So, it is not easier being me, now is it?

Actually, wrong, it was being you than it would be being me, if it was me, I would not have been there at all, the fact that I am you was the only reason I was able to deal with any of it.

Thank you, I don’t know what to say about that.

Really? Thank you is all you have?

Amazing isn’t it?

No, actually, a thank you is kind of nice.

You know how insane this whole process is right?

Yeah, was just thinking the same thing.

Maybe, other people do this in their own heads.

I don’t think so.

I was just trying to make my own self feel better.

Yeah, your own self.

You are my own self.

You are my own self too.

That is a very insane thing to say.

I was so glad to meet you.

I will not write ya, other than sarcastically.

I am aside, because I hide behind narcissism, a deadly schizm, made by fear, I am not able to hear anything critical at all, I will cut my ****ing ears off…

I hate myself enough…

What happened to you that day, when I didn’t care enough to come find you in New York, I was your phone a friend, and I am afraid, always, when I think of you, that you went back home, because of me, because I didn’t care.

We were each others only friends, for a time, albeit short, like my other friends

INABILITY TO MAINTAIN LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIPS

That goes for you too, ****.

I wasn’t the one talking.

I re-colored and re-drew you with another human being colored in grey and white, like the reason we would fight, or my lack of light… You are no longer around me, I miss you sometimes, but sleep soundly, knowing it was you who was insane, not me plagued with brain drain, although that is true as well, could not live with you in Hell, which is why you wanted me to begin with……..

Tell me baby, what you wanted, in a voice not so haunted, by all the guys that ever hurt you, because no matter what you say, sorry baby, can’t be the girl you craved, and I wonder now if that was the problem, so maybe I could not have solved it, because in every way, every single one, you were one of the only ones who I do not much negative to say about……..

Glamourized insanity, painted over with pure vanity, in colors holographic, like the daggers that you stab with, cutting below, at my rib and going slow, you are everything you said you were not, hate so cold, and love so not existant at all, like an icy barbie doll, not capable of love, because you were

I don’t remember really.

She is not like you, so she is going down, I love you sweetheart and your friend would rather lay down.

She stole your money, and I’ll give it back, little do you know, this is all an act. We tricked you, baby, but you don’t know. I wanted your attention and your friend did know. Now you are sitting thinking she left you here, she is buying something of which you won’t here. I covered for her, because without her, I would never have met you, and after today won’t see you again, and this I bet you, so right now, I will tell you anything you want to hear, and yes have anything you want, I have it here.

I don’t know when she will be back, she did not tell me, and yes she will be back of this I assure, I implore you please relax, your insanity and anxiety is such a tax, I love your voice honey, and love your face, I have something that I am sure will make your pain slow pace.

Okay, she is back no go away, and if you are ever in need you know where I stay.

Spent 100,000 grand on political science masters, and then spent 15 years as a petty criminal while developing an unhealthy obsession with women who will never love me because I hate myself and hating them for it, while drinking and doing drugs which made everyone hate me, including making hate myself and then made excuses for why it was everyone’s fault, but my own, while sitting around talking to myself… and pretending myself is my wife…

Hey, ***hole, I am a pers… well, we are the… you are right….

I don’t even want to be this time…

I feel like ****… I want to get high……

You do?

Don’t do that to me, I am not going to, I am not going to encourage this…

I know, I know.

Peace.

I hate everything about me, every aspect of me. I am a negative self-involved POS.

Later.

Please baby, don’t go away, I need you so much, you are so sweet, your love is so special, you make me complete. You are my sunshine, my sweet turtle dove, you make me feel everything I thought meant true love. I love everything about you, without you I’ll die, I am ever so sorry I had to lie. You wouldn’t understand, could not tell truth, I need your money, couldn’t tell you.

I needed your money, and feared you would cry, so I told you a little tiny white lie, but don’t worry sweetie, it is okay, I promise I’ll stop, now don’t go away. I promise to always do what you say, now stop your crying and please let me

Tell her everything you need her to hear, she is your source of happiness, now ***hole be sincerce.

I am addiction

I aim for the heart

I take everything you love

I am the act of push and shove

My turtle dove, my turtle dove, you are gone, because I only loved myself and that bottle and needle and spoon on my upper right shelf.

Tell me a story, make it true, make it all about everything you do

This kills me

I think that was the biggest dig at my non-existant self-pride I have gotten all day……..

Yeah……I feel the same way……

I don’t even have anything to say, see the above… **** this…

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.

Staring into the murky depths

I am nothing, working on being something……..

You told me once that silent and listen were spelled with the same letters, and I have been silent since then, or so you think.

I walked away shortly after that, acknowledging your request in that statement to never hear my voice again.

You have since tried to ignite in me, the flames that once burned so strongly for you, while having none of them burning for me.

I will never understand you, I told you over and over who I was, over and over you were made aware of everything that I was, and you deny it to this day, calling me things, I told you over and over I was not.

I have always been the same thing, that you knew I was the whole time, and you have never been anything but a liar.

Is it hard to see clearly?

I used to see through different eyes, not through mine, but eyes that lied, that lay inside my head, but not, caught by despise and forever wrought with hatred read in all I did, they rested in a face of kid-ding and of attack, they looked in the mirror and saw nothing reflected back.

I had not eyes, but reflecting pools, filled with sadness, and with tragic tools to make myself just like everyone else, tools of magic that sat on shelf.

I would drink them and sometimes smell them, and sometimes prick my hands in vain, and sometimes they would make me, able to stand a very clear disdain.

I am running from my own reflection, because I hate being my own reflection.

Shatter

I used to run from someone, who also ran from me.

I was blind and couldn’t see the person chasing me was me, and the person I was chasing was the same. The person I stood laughing on the corner with, buying tragic things with, and staining my soul with was always my own reflection.

I am the fear of shedding light.

Two and the same, one and the same, not a stain, but a reflection.

Color me, abstract, color me dark.

Color me so I don’t see in the dark.

I am lack of sight.

I am out of mind.

I am sole of shoe, stuck in gum of decline.

I am no longer, but I look back in time.

I am sole of shoe stuck in what is still left in mind.

Every time I went looking for missing things, that they stole, every time I went looking for missing things that they stole

I was looking for missing things I had already used or lost.

They, I was the cost of a tragic decision to deny who I was for half my life.

I am better now, that I am no longer denying who I was and am.

A lone, Alone, A lone, Alone

I miss you, person who I thought was real, but what I really miss was never real to begin with, the idea of being loved at all, ever, which was never real at all.

You were not real, you were never who I thought you were, because I was never real, not before now, so this is and has always been, all my fault, which doesn’t matter, but I keep thinking it, that I tragically hurt my own self.. I have a problem with the word feelings, I don’t like admitting I have those.

---

And now this

---

Please help me, everything that is above me, because I am done with being angry…

---

And now this

---

There is a flower, that exists somewhere, in the jungle, that I need to find, because it will cure a disease of my mind.

I don’t know what is, or what it does, just simply that it exists somewhere and that I am looking for it.

I am the Crow 2.

I am the crow too.

I am the crow to, as well, as an adjective of a human being who steals from other human beings while they are not looking.

I am the crow, two

There are two of me.

Welcome to Hell, Misery painted with wine, and whinning. no winning just whinning, from spendthrift dime stealers.

Penny for your thoughts?

No I am sparring not sparing change.

I am disdain, acid reign, wishing for soul washing rain.

Ahahahahahhhahahahhahhhahahahhahahahhahhahahhahahhahhahhahahah

I am the horrors of walking next to an active user.

I am the non-heroic heroin user.

I am resentment of past action.

I am true admissions of a soul attacking soul attacker

I am hopefully getting over this.

I am actively seeking forgiveness.

I know this comes from something higher.

But I am more comfortable crucifying myself.

I am more comfortable doing this to myself.

I need help.

ahhhahahhahhahhahahhhahahhahhahahhahhahahhahha

I have no tent, because I can fly so high, that I need not sleep, because I am high as Hades.

I am a looter of the looted by life, I am the riddler of strife.

I am the stealer of unwatched things, I am heroin addict, unwatched, on meth, stealing while you sleep to buy drugs.

I am the confessions of an ***hole, who is no longer on drugs.

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.

Just deserts, just desserts, just green and yellow sickness, thick with addicted addictness

I am scared of me.

I am scared of bee.

I am scared of be.

I am afraid of one second of not being in control of my own level of pain, that is really ridiculous, that is the amount of time that I am told this will hurt, or maybe about thirty seconds, and I am not afraid of it hurting, I have a high pain tolerance… I am afraid of lack of control over it hurting…. I realized this just now…

Addiction. Addict. Addicted to control.

I am addicted to the unheld hand.

I am addicted to alone in desert land.

I am addicted to pain.

I am addicted to me.

That was dark? I am pain, okay, self. You are an ***hole.

I obviously love doing this to myself? Can’t you see? It is so comfortable and has nothing to do with how anyone else treats me, because you know I am not a real human being with feelings, just a headless chicken waiting for surgery… or insertion of ideas into my head… same thing…

I need to live alone, the results of this oscillation are dizzying. I am not, nor have I ever been good at the whole living with people thing, it goes well at first and then they realize what I am like and try to HELP, or cure parnoid schizophrenia through polite suggestion of normal adaption strategies and ways to fit in.

I am sorry, I hallucinate, and am never sure how much of my reality is real. I do things that upset and scare people like

singing to myself

talking about innappropriate things because I do not know the difference between appropriate and inapproriate

not knowing the difference between emotional honesty and aggression

talking all the time, under my breath to myself, at myself, with myself

So now I because I live hear, and people couldn’t leave me alone, I get to feel uncomfortable for asking to be left alone, and not being left alone, and snapping.

I am accountable yes, it is my fault for snapping yes, but I just wish I knew when I was going to figure out a way out of this situation so I could do what is best for everyone and get out of here.

saying whatever comes into my head instantly because I no longer have an inner monologue

I need to get out of here, and to a place, by myself, before I lose my mind permanently.

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 ****.

RDP WEDNESDAY: NSFW CONSEQUENCES: SELF HATRED

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/29/rdp-wednesday-consequences/

I remember

A time when both of us loved each other, when the thought of you made me feel things, I thought I would never feel, nothing like anything I ever felt before. I remember for the first time in my life, not being so present, in my self-asserting madness, being there with you and not aware of me existing at all, as a seperate entity.

Toxic relationship they say, but is it really? I feel like I am toxic myself, like you made me less so…..

I don’t even know..

I just wish I hated myself less…

Maybe that is the consequence of all this… I hate myself…… so much………..

https://wordpress.com/tag/rdp-wednesday

I sought to con time, thinking myself so divine,

I could and should do this, playing the creator of the world, while playing at being the creator of the world, thinking myself so high,

Well I was just not above anyone, just stupid and arrogant.

I took your last name, baby. That’s a consequence. I will remember you forever, because I stole a peice of you, and that isn’t a consequence is it? More like me being an ***hole… again… ****

I don’t know, I don’t like words that make me uncomfortable… and accountability *****.

See there was nothing to save, I was right, you were wrong, and you saved yourself from watching me slowly rip myself into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to do anything with my **** life anyway.

I am getting better, and I don’t need you, anyway. I can do this without your help, because you never understood… I kept saying over and over I am done, and you would want to go out and have a drink with me. I can’t ****ing do that responsibly, and I told you that. OVER and OVER and OVER
and you insisted you could teach me how to drink the right way????

I don’t want to drink anymore **** it. I am doing this now, and you are still saying you are worried about me, and you are still using????? HOW AM I THE BAD PERSON????? STOP CALLING ME.

THIS happened two weeks ago, de Soto.

No one calls you anymore.

That is not true, I have friends…. just not her. Just not her.

I said kill me baby, would you please? I am on my freakin’ knees, begging honey would you dare, let me touch your pretty hair? I love you baby, don’t you know, do you really have to go? I want you badly, miss you greatly, have been thinking of you lately, so I say honey please answer me, I miss you so, won’t you please, please, please,

PICK UP THE PHONE

Don’t leave me here alone, I am sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I thunk, I don’t know what I said, I was silly, soul so dead, please call me back back back

My soul I attack attack attack, tell me what I said, to make your eyes, oh so read, please please please.

I will stop drinking **** it. I swear I am done. This isn’t fun anymore.

I am so happy to be at peace, a place, instead of the sensation of mind erase, a drink, but also a place. I am no longer the feeling of lack of space, but am allowed to exist.

I wasn’t before this. I was a state of mind that was pushed away, a meditation thought to be decay, but now I exist.

Yes.

Drinking, using, any of that… is not better than this, and none of that is missed, not for anything would I give up this.

I am so glad to be done, and be able to not hate myself anymore.

I have begun to sow the fractured pieces of my soul back together, but it is hard, a reverse dissection of a fake infection projected on me by my own hand.

At least now I can stand on my own two feet.

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.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1884

The amount of glass on the ground around me on a daily basis astound me, items on the floor smashed to smithereens, left there because I don’t take my shoes off, and I don’t care about walking on glass without them anyway.

I smash things to pieces, and I wish I could spend more time everyday picking up the pieces than lamenting an existence of fracture, but I cannot bring myself to picking them up without squeezing my hands around them, I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore. I need professional help.

I wish I could make more phone calls to do this, but I threw my phone in the river, in a paranoid psycho delusion that people were listening to my phone calls, even though my phone calls were just to her, and her yelling at me.

I think this is the last I will say about this. I am going to do the things I said above, get professional help and try to move on, sorry for ranting on here..

I say I am never touching you again, and I am being childish, but you don’t want to know what I meant, and it was nothing against you.

I was in love with you, and I know my hands are dirty because they always are, not physically but metaphorically, that is why they are usually cracked and bleeding and prone to infection, aside from old habits done with fire and shot in vain.

You told me you knew how to help me, I told you I didn’t need your help, and you said I was being selfish, so I let you unpack the suitcase of dirty laundry that is my aching bleeding cut, open wound of a soul, and you donated them all to charity and bought me new clothes, I am not going to wear your new clothes, I am a human being with feelings, and bad as I am, I am still a human being with feelings, and if you hated me so much…. I am starting to be glad you are no longer around, because I would rather be lonely the rest of my life, then ever have to fight with someone while high on my own supply with you who contributed nothing but criticism, when I kept trying to get clean and sober.

Here, you would say, giving me some of yours, which I didn’t know you had, when you were going line for line shot for shot with me, on money bought with gambling that no one figures me out.

I am so tired of thinking of you.

I am Swiss cheese…..

Except I am not Swiss, and not cheese…

Just a real person… or

Human soul

Full of metaphysical holes in my

Self or the idea of everything I am.

I dug them myself because she told me she would help me, and I am stupid and gullible and believed her/him when he/she told me she loved me. I don’t know why that gives her/him the right to put holes in me.. okay? I don’t even know what love is, and no one had ever told me they loved me, not like that… so I listened to everything he/she said…. I would have jumped off a….Not really…. I would have done almost anything they asked me to, even if it hurt me, and he/she used that to make me do whatever they wanted on a mission for drugs,

And it was so obvious to everyone except me, even those who hated me, would tell me

You realize you are just her source right?

I was just her source of elation and she was everything to me.

I want to….

I could cry, if I wasn’t so numb because my soul hurts.

Please God, can I find something real, please God, please God,,, I don’t want to be alone…I am so sorry for everything I did.. please don’t…. I don’t want to be alone anymore…

Writing that really helped me. The last part, which means prayer just helped me. Thank you to my higher power, I am not crying anymore, numb. sad. but stopped crying.

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 began training my dog to help me with a personal mission. I wanted to hunt wild boar. It was not just for me, but for her so she would stop chewing on my leg and her leg, because I was paranoid she wanted to eat mine, so I thought maybe she could eat a wild boar’s leg instead.

When I am lucid, I know that she never had any intention, of chewing off anyone’s leg,

Not mine, not a wild boar, not hers

I just thought of this because I am

INSANE

I have a functional brain that works most of the time, but sometimes

IT DOESN’T

And there is no fear in me to admit

WEAKNESS

Anymore, because I have realized that the

WEAKNESS

I had was in my failure to admit things, not in admitting them or making them into other things, in creative metaphor to slay like metaphorical dragons, I was just experiencing

FEAR

And I am no longer

AFRAID

Or have to roll around in

AGONY

Because I cast out these metaphorical demons on a black screen.

I am your admission that your guilt is real,

I am your recognition that your dragons represent guilt erected into a false sense of pride and shame blame that explains why you

FAILED

But I am also your strength in admitting this and

Casting it out.

I am an inner demon, I am a deep seeded hatred, I am a future projection,

I am what you feel, I am who you are, I am who you are in the process of seeing

I am you. I am fighting you

To be real

Because you are an addict addicted to the things that make me

UNREAL

Making you unreal with a desire to un-feel.

I am feeling better, after all the confessing in vomit thrown at the pages of this thing. I am thinking that if nothing else, at least this is helping me attempt something that I never thought I would, the making amends thing always scared me so much, I think it is the reason I just kept drinking or using, but I am realizing that the process I was in was just slow suicide and it was hurting those who happen to grace me with their presence. I am trying to focus on the positive and bring no more negative with my continued presence on this earth, I figure if the universe was kind enough to spare me, I might as well, try as hard as I can to make it worth it for it to have done so.

I am not saying anything about deserving any of this, I don’t deserve anything, but I will take whatever I can get. I am desperate at this point, to do anything I can to not be the same ***. I am so sorry for everything. I wish I could turn back time and undo all the pain that I caused, but I can’t so I am doing the best I can to fix what I can, and not break anything else. I am learning to appreciate what I have and not at all, because I think I deserve it, I don’t deserve any of this, quite the opposite.

Love,

Damien

This is right before this story began, and gives more back story into character origins.

Enter Resentment before it becomes full blown Misery.

I am the seed of man’s fall, I am the call to end all, I am the lack of feet to stand on, I am falling with nothing to land on. I wish I was dead, I wish someone would cut off my head.

I am standing on a bridge, looking over the water, I am lucid, because I got ripped off, this is when I was still in my most callous form. A complete wreck of reckless abandonment of my human soul. I am looking down into the water, I can see her body down there, she is the fifth one I have seen today, they litter the ground, as if someone is following me, something or someone stalking me, and consuming my friends, eating their souls and leaving them tossed for me to see. I feel this, and I know my feelings are not to be trusted, but this I feel differently this is at me, taunting it stalks me and confronts me. I am forced to face, every time I didn’t say no we should just do something else, every time I carried forth a plan to get high and they met my tragic keepers, those I serve and the erected death idol that they have cast like a statue to worship in the sky.

I am not a bad person, I just don’t pay attention, I pay for things I give to other people in exchange for part of the things I pay for, my best friend pays for things with things she has because she is she. I don’t have this ability so I pay with delivery like a pizza man from Hell.

We are quite the miserable duo. I don’t like doing this anymore, I talk sometimes like I doing it because the thing possesses me, I am propelled by a voice that gives me no choice but to sound like this and speak in style that rhymes for miles to mock the speech of human beings beyond teaching.

I am perpetually looking down, not seeing faces, because then I don’t have to remember them, and it makes it a little bit easier, to serve a demon to eat dragon fire. I hate my life, this has never been fun, but this is a new low, and I want out, but they will arrest me if they see me writhing in drug addicted agony on the ground, and I am too crazy to survive five seconds if apprehended. I hate myself, but I can’t stop easily because I don’t have the ability to stop moving long enough to be able to deal with the physical debilitation of withdrawal. I started doing all of this when I first started hearing voices, and it used to make them better, now it is the voices, and I don’t know what to do anymore, because I don’t want to take my life, but it so hard not to. I am so unhappy.

Damien.

I feel like the decision to seek professional help is going to help me going forward. I am learning through getting to know her better that my daughter is a lot like me and I can’t bring myself to keep doing this to her, because whether or not I like it she is watching me do this to myself. I know I have a right to feel anything I want about this, but sitting on the floor wallowing in self-pity propelled by self-loathing is not the answer either. I am thinking this might actually make it possible for me to maintain some kind of progress and move on with my life.

I might be able to finally do something that way that is not so entirely self focused. I am going to make an effort to try to be less selfish in any way I can, which means I am going to have to give up on the excuse of it being just the way my brain works, because if that is true I would have to say I don’t want it to be this way and I would try to fix it anyway. I don’t want to be a source of worry for my family anymore. I want to try to be someone they can turn to, as well as someone who turns to them. I owe them that if anything.

I am so sorry for my outbursts and for making anyone watch this, if you were watching it. I forget I am not alone on here sometimes.

With love,

Damien

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2023/03/05/wordle-595/

I am sitting on the edge of a cliff, which is not really a cliff, but it feels like one because everything in me screams jump. I feel my legs beneath me as I sit in front of this screen, but I don’t…. I am so numb.

My mind aches in writhing agony. I do not know why I remembered any of this today. I have not know. I just had these horrific flashes back and forth to a dimension of exaggerated chaos. I know that I am not the one responsible for killing anyone with my own hands, but I am numb and don’t know how to interpret what I actually did. I can’t stand to face myself when I have this happen, the flow of nightmares that are indistinguishable between real and unreal flooding my mind and making me quiver in agony.

I walk through life now, a twisted twig of a human being. I am numb and propelled by a voice that is not my own that hangs over my head like an un-holy halo of chaos. It screams at me all day of times when my desire for something that I do not even have anymore, something that was not worth the 30 seconds it felt good, was it worth giving up the ability to save my friends lives. I have lost touch with everyone other than Rei. I exist in a world with her and my daughter alone, where sometimes it is good and sometimes I am so haunted by my inner demons, my soul feels like it will collapse on me, a chaotic implosion, that like an aching black hole, will consume me from the inside out. I am not an evil person now, but I was and I have no idea what that makes me now. I am so empty.

I am just, lost I guess. I don’t know where to go with this. I don’t know what I should do with everyone I remembered hurting. I am leaping from feeling to feeling unsure of the reality of any of it anymore, how much of it am I responsible for. How much of the killing is my fault? I mean this in the metaphorical sense. If I knew that me turning the page to skip over a friends agony and pushing them to keep using or trying to get them to give me money to perpetuate both of our drug use.. I was killing both of us…

I am told that life will get better, but I am going insane right now over this, I am haunted by bad dreams of times I could have saved my friends lives and I pushed them off a cliff, by telling them we should just get high one more time, and now they are gone because I perpetuated their addiction so I could get high. I want to be serene about the whole thing. I experience moments of serenity, but isn’t it supposed to heal you? I don’t know what I am doing wrong. I want sighs of relief for me and those around me to turn the page on all this. and for the voices in my head to stop, so I can hear my own voice again. I want it so bad, but I don’t know if it is possible.

I am so sorry for any pain I caused. I hope this is fixable. I know I am so back and forth about this. I am like multiple people, I get it. I want peace so badly.

God, help me.

My mind is numb, I am leaping in it off the edge of a cliff. I have heard the sighs of my family as they watch the back and forth happy/sad movement of my face.

I don’t know how to truly forgive myself.

Damien

Trigger warning- One of the most disturbing posts on this site, thus far, to show the depths of hatred I had for myself and being born in the wrong body. I am in no way speaking of literal murder here, metaphor for death of Amanda in rebirth as Damien. Read only if you can handle violent poetic metaphor.

His name was Harassment, or Harris, I meant to say, and he would not

Go away, in my mind did he say every day things I said to me, he bound, tied and killed me, and in ways of comparison we were so similar, the existence of him was a rid-of-her

Rhyming miming time blasting, crash of attack of my soul, the ever gaping hole of

DEATH
RESENTING EVER LAST BREATH

Because of the idea of last, caught up on past and future spent on pain, you embarrassed me don’t say my ****ing name. I will make YOU go insane, you want to kill your girlfriend buddy, that’s great give me some

DRUGS OR MONEY
I am a man in female form, with dissing resentment of death reborn as scorn. I am the face of female torn in half.

I will rip over her face, with hands that lack ability to stop because I can’t stop doing it to me, I will make her regret the air she breathes.

I am a curse you sent from hell, I am the ever indecent spelling telling lie. I am the act of female cry. I am the idea of die bitch die, because I want for her what I want for me, I want to end the air she breathes, I want to steal her peace and money I am a heroine junkie, isn’t that funny.

I will make her wish for Hell before I am done, I will be her setting sun.

You want her dead give me a gun.

I think I am in the process of finally clearing a long term MRSA infection from my body that cost me three finger tips. Most notably half of my thumb on my right hand, which was a ***** because that one was my fault entirely. I refused to go to the hospital because I was enjoying getting high.. I have been an idiot most of my life. I thought I could clear it on my own by using bleach and peroxide, which I used to literally seer a hole into my scalp through which you could see my skull, no lie. I am insane, in my defense… I was very high for all of this, and had no idea that I was literally digging a hole in my head with a pair of pliers.

I am just happy I am not insane today, the further I get away from meth and heroin/crack/acid/booze/painkillers/cocaine the better. I am tired of spending hours trying to kill myself slowly.

You can’t tell I did that, looking at me, because obviously, that matters narcissistic ***.

I don’t know why I felt I needed to share this.

Later Damien

That’s cool. I am happy for you.

Why? She is going to rip my heart out, I am awful, and she will realize it eventually and move on, and I just…… I don’t like feeling like I want or need anyone, but I….

Just be nice.

I don’t know how

Did anything happen?

No, she just really scares me, she is everything I ever wanted in another human being, without realizing I ever wanted anything at all. I was content in Hell. I was fine, and now I don’t know, I feel like if she ever figures out what a piece of…..I am awful and I love….

Just chill out, she loves you.

I know, I just can’t handle this, I am such a loser, what do I do.

Just calm down.

Okay, I will.. or I will try.

Thanks, me too….

De-fence less, I am to you, you walked by me, and touched my spine, and instead of the normal desire to rip yours out, I am overcome with electricity, I love you intensely, and I am not scared anymore about it, I feel overcome by quiet for the time being.

Being is wonderful for this moment, for this second, I am entranced with the dance that goes on with the corner of your eyes, fixating for once, on meditation to not look to closely, because I am so afraid of myself, I am so pliable, I am putty you or gum on your shoe, and you leave me there,

liking the sticky feeling as you walk and I wonder why, you beautiful creature, want this, tragic display of projected insanity anywhere near you, I deserve nothing and you give me everything, and I love you with every fiber of my being for that, you are changing me Rei, making me realize it is not weak for me to love you.

You give me legs to stand again, and I don’t think I will forget that ever again.

Please bare with me, I love you so much, I will change, I promise. I am working on it. I will do whatever I can to make everything better, I am so sorry for everything I put you through, I was selfish and cruel and I love you so much, please stay with me.

Damien

PS. Even if I lose my mind temporarily, I mean this with my whole heart that is just starting to realize how much I love you. You are a beautiful human being and you have made me believe in something higher than I could ever be, and for that I am eternally grateful.

I don’t know what is wrong with me sometimes, I fantasize about the strangest things, drawn to your hands and I think of times when I could cut them off, your nails are red and I think about the scraping against my skin, the red blood under your nails being so similar in character to mine, it makes me uncomfortable, I don’t want to feel this way, so I fantasize about cutting off your finger, and how it would be so easy when holding your hand to break it because they are so soft and there is nothing stopping me from squeezing it as tight as I can

YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE YOURSELF DAMIEN

I know this, and that is why I write it down, because it is so much easier than wondering how much it would take and bite you while you kiss me because I have always found it easier to taste the metallic taste of your blood than that of your cinnamon lips, I want you so badly and that makes me want to hate you, it makes me want to

Rip at the eyes, ripping me out of them so you can’t do it to me first…….

I have no self control, so I sit in a dark hole, which is the grave situation of my life, riddled with question of why does the sight of your tongue make me think of blood running out a mouth with one?

Why do I think of you coughing up blood from a blow to the stomach when I would never want to hurt you? I have no control over my mind, and it torments me more than you will ever know, I am locked in my skin, caged like a clawing animal to try to get out of myself and instead I claw at those around me,

Screaming you can’t own me, when you don’t even want to, you are the kindest person, and I am awful. I do not know what you see when you look into the pools of nothing that are the black pupils of eyes that look like nothing.

Why do you love me?

I don’t get it. I want to rip me out of me.

I hate myself so much.

Damien

I don’t know what I was thinking… I am sorry… I have been having a bad day.. so I decided to gross myself out……Meh. I…. don’t know, I am having a really hard time here. I just constantly feel like ****. I know it is the effects of years of drug and alcohol abuse, my stomach hurts, I can’t eat without feeling like I am going to throw up, not out of pathetic narcissism either, but out of the holes I have burned into myself with the acid bile that was the chaos of my life, a digging at my skin and my face, that has dug me the chasm that is the cavernous existence I live now, a prisoner in a body stuck in a decay cycle.

I was talking to one of the people at the meeting, he made me feel better. He said it gets better, we laughed about how if I am not a *** I will not have to go through this again, asked me if I felt like **** and told me he sympathized because he remembered being me. I like the people in the rooms, man. At least they are real. I am so happy to be out of the lying limerick silent screaming world of active addiction, even if I am living in a cavern of fire skin and retching vomit, in dedication to withdrawal, at least I am not out there chasing imaginary dragons or killing people through inaction.

I hate myself now, sorry….

peace.

Damien

Did you sleep well? I barely slept at all…. I kept waking up as you can see…. because I have to do something today, and **** me. I am not important enough to feel okay anyway, and probably wouldn’t even if I slept… but how would I know because I don’t anyway???

Reason meant for reason a ment or Amanda’s meant resentment of self. Bam. Throughout punch of throat of myself, just pissed I am always tired, so I am word boxing myself, so I wake up, which is why I am always tired, and insane….

Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton

I like that movie…

I have seen it 302808 times.

It is one of the reasons I am tired right now.

Not true…. I am insane…. because.. I am insane… and I will never be not insane… because my broken brain doesn’t ****ing work write right write……..

Okay, done.

Damian

Damien

Damn ie

Dama ie

this is just stupid now.

It is silent. I can think. I am really stuck on this. I think it is who am I even? I have no idea. I am an act, in a lot of ways, an act of pretending because I want something, and I don’t how to be in a situation where I am not coning someone. I am obsessed with this concept recently, but I don’t think I have talked about on here. How do I move on from what I have done? How do I do that without losing my entire self, and why does it matter if I lose my entire self if my entire self was built on being a lying drug addict who would do anything to get high. I don’t know how to live with myself. It is not my family that is driving me nuts, it is me. I don’t know how to stop driving myself nuts.

I hate myself so much. I don’t know how to move on. I think the idea of myself as a person, is rooted in resentment, so if you remove my roots don’t I die? Is that healthy?

I don’t know. I don’t want to die, for the first time ever, but I don’t even know what being a good person means. I know how to get what I want. I am an act of bad faith a trying at everything because I am not really ever trying, I am always coning everyone, and I am just starting to realize I drank and got high in this cycle of madness to forget things I did to drink and get high so I could wash rinse repeat. I don’t even feel anything from drugs anymore. The last time I did either one of the ones I used to do, I felt like shit because I have no serotonin and I didn’t have enough of the other thing and whining about something I don’t even want to do anymore because it sucked. I have no interest in any of it, because I don’t but also because it would make no sense to be the person I don’t want my daughter be talking to outside getting the things I don’t want her doing, and she already did it, and I feel like that’s my fault because I was on here saying stupid stuff I can’t take back because she already read it.

I am such a moron.

I love you, Joy. If you read this please don’t ruin your life. You and your mother and my friend are the only thing that matter to me anymore. Please don’t be like me. I am a miserable pathetic jerk with no serotonin. I don’t want that for you. I love you so much. You saved my life. I am so sorry. I am so sorry I was not a better person before I knew you existed.

Please don’t be like me. I am not a good person, but I am trying to be better, because I love you.

Damien.

She spends a lot of time outside, and I was asking her why last night, like what she does out there, because being an idiot I assumed she was doing something bad, like drugs. She told me something awesome, which was amazing. I like being surprised by the chaotic joy of my daughter who is so aptly named. I hate that sentence because it sounds disgustingly egotistical on second thought, but I am leaving it so I have to look it, because maybe staring at my own pathetic egoism will make me a better person.

She paints these pictures of the universe that suggest a level of innate joy that is breathtaking because I can’t breathe in a universe that is not besmirched with maddening decay. I like her paintings of birds the most because they always include this chaotic seeming painting of the sky, where it looks like she is painting a longing for a world she sees only in her dreams.

It is funny, the more time she spends with my wife, the more the painting gets better, and less chaotic, which is why I just stay on here, because I am hoping she will do the same and maybe when we are both less insane she can talk to me like she talks to her mother, right now since the smoking incident I think I don’t know what to say other than that I am a really bad example and if I had known she existed I would never have killed anyone.

some weed and got in trouble because I think it had something else in it and now I know why my dad said no. I think I am doing way better at it then he does, because I am just having fun, not going around killing people or ruining the lives of women who are stupid enough to talk to some asshole standing outside in alley’s in the middle of the night. I struggle to see why my mom likes him sometimes, but others I get it. He doesn’t talk to me much because I think he is worried about saying the wrong thing, which I can understand because I have read stuff on here and most of what he says is the wrong thing.

It’s wearing off. Nice. That was easy.

I think I’ll try again later. Oh yeah. I am writing this on something he reads, damn you hereditary scizophrenia…… I can’t spell it either…..

We all sound sort of similar, it makes me feel better, sometimes….

But, mostly it makes me feel like a lame ass nerd who missed out on when my parent’s were actually cool.

Joy

I have been weird all day, that is why I have been writing as Damien, he is who I am when I feel this way. I have always had a hard time with the idea of sex, I have had a lot of sex, for profit, and was intoxicated for every single sexual encounter, I always thought I was intoxicated because I was uncomfortable with having sex at all, but I was never uncomfortable with women, and right now as I am typing this the idea of never having to be with a man again in that way is the most liberating thing I have ever felt in my life.

I am extremely Catholic, and very stereotypical about it, and have always thought that caused me to be weird about sex entirely. Or I thought I was trans because of the whole Damien thing. I don’t think I am, I have been looking into the idea of two-spirited, that makes sense to me.

I think I am finally releasing that I drank and used drugs to be able to be okay with how I felt about me being in a relationship with a man, sexually.

Dude, I am so relieved. I feel like I had an anvil taken off my chest.

Maybe I am actually, Damien and Amanda was always a facade.

Reality broken.

Wow

I feel sometimes like I was playing monopoly most of my life, and winning by robbing the community chest. Oh, subtle innuendo… I miss Rei right now sorry…. she’s sleeping and my daughter went for walk, so I am doing this so I don’t commit some horrible atrocity and ruin my life. Yay, busy hands.

Talk about something else, that does not fuel ego. Be humble, fool.

I am trying to figure out how to help Amanda develop sympathy for others, because obviously a psycho is the best person to do this…

Well, maybe because I am her, so I would be… no more ego……

I want a tuna sandwich.

Haha! I finally got this idiot program to work!

Bam!

Stab the burger. Dispel rage, no one has to die today. Would have worked better if it didn’t take an hour and a half to do that..

I think…. I am not good at time.

Backstory of the burger, I was actually looking for a picture of a tuna sandwich because again OCD… and the computer hands me a burger with a knife in it instead. I am afraid of AI. This was one of the few pictures without beer in it, so I smacked it down with pink femininity, so it can’t hurt me. Oh, wow, even I was offended by that one.

On that note.

Peace.

Embarrassed,

Damien

I accidentally made coffee with too little water, and I am insanely hyper right now. I also have no one to talk to because Rei and our daughter went for a walk, and I hear voices when I am alone, so I am talking to you so I am not scared to be alone, pathetic I know.

Oh, well.

I am trying to figure out what to do about the whole where do I live thing, which ironically so does my narrator. I know things about you too, Amanda. This is so cool.

I am so happy.

I have never felt like this in my life.

This coffee is way too strong though. I think the machine is broken.

My knee hurts because I have an ab·scess on it, look I can use the internet, which comes with a cool ability to see something terrifying that sent me into a spiraling panic attack, because I sometimes think I live in an alternate dimension where I have a semblance of control and, obviously if I had control this is what I would do because I want to be God, but I am not, and I have now disgusted myself and lost my train of thought, so I will get back to the original point, damn it de Soto. Spelling. spelling. spelling.

I wish I could live without fear.

Reap

appear

reaper

er is missing from making reaper appear, huh? interesting.

I wish I could love anyone as much as I love myself.

I like the woman’s face in this cartoon of a woman, she looks peaceful. I wish I could sleep with her.

I am okay with being the holder, I like holding. I have become accustomed to dealing with customs. I am okay with hell, I guess, and have become accustomed to the eternal infernal quest of my damned soul running from devils lived and imagined, and real and un-present, but

I resent the presenting of the present eternity. I resent its presence because I am weak and reek of cruelty, and I don’t want to have to ask to be saved, I don’t want to acknowledge I will die, because that means I lived at all, and

If I am honest

Honing street truths to acquire mind altering substances is no way to live, and I judge me, so how can I expect forgiveness for anything? How can I expect forgiveness? You simply ask. I don’t like asking and being told no.

I don’t like waiting for anything. Pride.

Maybe that’s why it is a deadly sin. Maybe that’s why it is to be given up through meditation, maybe that is why it is not practiced by any person who is good. I practice pride every day, in my ripping and tearing and patching consciousness of wash rinse repeat cruelty.

I don’t know how to stop, but I am trying.

Enough of that.

Do you have any idea what it feels like to make a complete $%^ of yourself, while thinking no one is watching and then realize they are? I do. Damn, it. I am living with Diane, and feel better albeit a little like I have been kicked in the nuts. I like her, and she is like me, so it’s not as insulting having someone tell me what to do. She is a step ahead of me most of the time, and is more like the sugar in my coffee than Rei was the hand dragging me to the dentist. I know that is not a good metaphor. I feel like an idiot. I really believed my brain was broken, and that screaming and freaking out was going to somehow cause the universe to implode on me. It didn’t. I’m glad. I think, or maybe it did, and that is how I got here. I don’t really understand this whole thing yet.

I just thought I was stealing time from people to gain more time myself… that and other things. I am going to try after this to do less ranting and more story-telling of things that happen, so I feel like less of a lunatic.

Later

Damien

I… hate myself. I can’t stop crying. I feel like I want to rip off my own skin. I have this horrible vibrating sensation running throughout my whole body, and I can’t stop crying. I am su.. stuck…. here……. and I… killed her…….. I….. Rei…. What am I going to do, with myself? I am just going to keep jumping from person to person, a vacuous death magnet consuming all that comes close to me, until there is nothing of me left… I wish there was nothing of me left. I just…… I am so…. lonely. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t why…… I don’t know what I wanted……why did I want……..

I am so sorry Rei. I am so sorry.

Again, I thought ki…that Rei fucking leaving would…. yeah I know I just admitted I fucking killed Rei. I don’t give a shit. I woke up to doing it to Diane. I had my hands around her neck. Luckily, she thought I was dreaming and it turned into something else because Diane has strange… appetites. I don’t know what my problem is. I can’t be happy for too long without slipping out of reality. I don’t know where I go, it is like I am not there at all. Like waking up from surgery…. Does my brain function at all during these times? I want to look it up but, I am afraid to… not like…looking it up would be worse than typing it to some unknown stranger on the internet. I am afraid of google though.

Whenever I use their image search thing I feel like all the people are looking at me. I really hope I don’t end up killing Diane. I don’t think I could handle that right now. I like her. I don’t want to.. have to deal with change again. I am not good at change. I have to figure out how to keep this computer safe from the rain. There is something about that makes me feel like Rei is still alive, without her annoying voice yammering in my ear… kind of like she is alive with no tongue. I would have liked that. Okay, I am done for the second. I have disgusted myself enough.

Later.

I was in an abandoned building with Rei, we were sitting talking, and I am not sure if the people who came in after us heard us. They were speaking a different language that I couldn’t quite make out because my ears were ringing, and I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything that was being said by anyone because I was more focused on something that was being handed to me, and I hate myself for that, which I am going to start charging myself a dollar for saying.

I got this strange feeling, like I had been there before, exactly there and that we had done it wrong, and both of us had been burned alive, which is strange because I feel like I remember Rei saying the same thing. We are quiet for a second and they seem to notice a change in the level of presenting sound in the room, stopping and looking for us. I get this strange idea, that I can focus on not being there, and I focus on it and they don’t notice us. To me at the time, I just think I am having an episode, and that for all I know I might already be burning alive.

I wake up with Rei somewhere else, vomiting. I hate how much time I spent vomiting. It’s disgusting. I am disgusting. I put this picture in with this post because this vaguely illustrates what I saw. I made it using some insane fucking program, sorry for my language. I am frustrated…. and yes… I see words in the sky sometimes…

I don’t know, because I cut her into pieces, I am not sure how I did it. I woke up to this. This is a bastardization in that I am a bastard for doing it, and being that I have no idea how to illustrate what I would not dare take pictures of because I was appalled at what had happened, while I was not present in my own disgusting mind… I don’t even know. It looked something like this to me at the time. I think I can’t even tell you, because I don’t know. I remember this piercing sound, earth shattering piercing like some how I had shattered one of my ear drums, but it rotated from both ear drum to ear drum and it didn’t hurt. Tinnitis? Spelling? Spelling…. I… woke up a second later and there were pieces of someone on the ground and Rei, was gone, or maybe I was gone. I do not know.

I was only there for a second, but then I… I don’t know, I don’t know if I ran or if I woke up from a nightmare that was this, but the blood, it was on and off my hands in flashes of light, but not like blood, like a cast color and it burned. I think I might have been screaming, but I couldn’t hear myself. I woke up or was already awake and I was.. I was..

I’m done… I don’t know what this means, and wanted to write this down so I remember it, but I am.. I am.. signing off. I don’t know what else to say other than that I am embarrassed… I am pathetic.

We have met others who do what we do, I am studying it as a phenomenon now, they have some sort of ability that involves the manipulation of human beings and the universe. They are all addicts, and I do not know if that is that stupid you associate with those like you crap, or if they are like us because there is something about being an addict that causes us to be able to do this. I feel like I have mentioned this before, but I do not know for sure, because admittedly my memory sucks, and I do not like to admit I have any weakness at all.

I have a hard time making assessments of the reality of what I see because of this, I, in my admitted arrogance, believed and still believe in my ability to manipulate space and time with my hands, that is one of the reasons I take life, aside from being prone to lashing out in fits of rage. I am embarrassed even writing this to you, my unknown observer. I do not like being the kind of person who talks to people, and wonder sometimes if that means I do not like being a human being. I sometimes doubt even that, that I am human at all.

I do not know what that means… I do not know what it means to not believe in my own human body. I guess it just means that I am everything they always said I was, and that for some reason in my wretched existence, I am pathetic enough to not… I am going to stop… I can’t stand hearing myself talk, even if it is out loud while typing to you or sometimes in the ranting chaos that is my own mind.

We are standing next to each other, but in the coldness of night… I can feel our separateness. I can feel that we are merely parts in a universe of pieces, and for a second I panic, knowing that the only thing that connects me to him are threads that are unreal. I have no invisible tether which ties me to this man. I am truly alone, and that frightens me, and I hope, as horrible as it is to say… he is frightened too. I look at him and realize he is crying. I heard him coughing or what I thought is coughing. I walk away slowly, and he starts to say something, but stops and I pretend not to hear.

“I wish….”, echoes into the dark night from his lips, as I walk away. I do not know what he wishes, and I will not find out if he was talking to me. We have an unspoken, understanding that I am not to see his moments of weakness. I simply pretend that he does not have them. We never speak about them.

He comes back over to me, but does not make eye contact with me. His downcast gaze, passes over the ground, painting it with the red stare that he casts on the day walkers. He looks as though he is trying to cast himself off the earth, and there is a part of me that wishes that he could, to end his pain. I do not know what it is about, and dare not ask.

There are many ways to take a human life, there is the very official way, my favorite of killing a person face to face, which offers the most reward because they get to know you did it. I am an idiot and like this, because I like them to know I stole the only thing that mattered from them, and there is nothing they can do about it. I set it up this way, because I am admittedly a coward, and do not want them to steal my life, so I protect myself, by ensuring this won’t happen. I was born with a taste for death that has been with me… since I can remember and struggled with self-hatred my whole life because of it.

I would be looking at someone and watching their every movement, and thinking about how I would kill them if I wanted to. I would plan out every second of it, this is why I have no friends.. other than the ridiculous Rei, who I do not understand at all. She makes no sense. She seems to be two people, one of them like me and the other, kind and gentle. I don’t get it. I don’t have the strength of mind to have two souls. I like both versions of her. She tells me I am the first person who does. I do not know if I believe her. Maybe, she never showed anyone both versions of her. I do not know, and I do not ask.

I am also very uncomfortable knowing much about her former life, because the other men who populated it make me angry. I am going to leave you with that, as I am no longer alone and have to go.

Damien

I am writing to erase whatever was on here when I logged onto whatever the hell this is. Something had left and open page, that I will not publish to this site, because I know who wrote it, but you don’t and I don’t want you to. I don’t want anyone to. If it is my one quest, I will stop at nothing to keep its eyes on me, and bring about my own demise, to save the one thing I ever gave a shit about. She is the only one who accepts me as I am, and that was a hard thing to attain, possibly the hardest thing I have ever attained in my whole life.

I am rambling, sorry. It is nice, sometimes to have someone to listen to me… and not have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. I can’t see you, so I can say whatever I want. I don’t have to face consequences, of hurting anyone’s feelings.

The presence that wrote the note, does not know Rei. It only talks to me. It talks through me too, which is why I used to torment Rei. I think it is new at human speech and speaks in this annoying sing song way, that makes me want to drill my eyes out of my head. I guess I am telling you this because I am trying to explain away anything before now that was written on here. I can’t do this, but I tried.

I was…. I wasn’t supposed to…. I don’t……. she…….

I choked her. I don’t know who she was, she had nothing to do with me. Well, that’s a lie, she looked at me, she looked at me like the damn birds are looking at me as I type this fucking note, or whatever the fuck this goddamn shit is, that I am writing on, Rei’s fucking blog. I don’t know why the fuck I am even writing this, you have no idea who I am, or what my fucking life has been like.

I feel like it helps me somehow… SHUT THE FUCK UP. I wasn’t writing to you whoever the fuck you are if you are anyone listening at all. I was talking to them, whoever keeps sending people after me. They know my fucking name, do you know how fucking disconcerting it is???

She looked at me and I choked her, and I don’t remember the in between, that is what is maddening. I woke up choking her, remembering she looked at me. I am losing my mind. I am losing my fucking mind.

Stop fucking looking at me birds, birds can’t read, what the fuck am I doing?

I love you and all your whores. I love them too, don’t you see?

You should stay with them and me!

I am nice to have around. I am useful, I am wise.

I am okay with all your lies.

You need to tell me nothing, dear.

I simply desire to be right here.

Your right hand man, though girl I am.

I can trick your whores, I am sure I can.

I can catch them for you baby, see.

I can bring them to on bent, knee.

I am useful, don’t you see? How very much you need me?!