I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Tag: sobriety
Thank you for clicking, I appreciate your existence, I am a puffin, I fly away with quickness.
My creator and creator, appreciates your acceptance.
I am a puffin, my name is Good Enough.
My creator isn’t lazy, but there are times they are stuck, on what to write here, and on what to say, there are times when the sunshine, calls them away.
In those times, they think of nature, and sitting outside, so much like me they are not stuck or hiding, they are just so alive.
I am a puffin, I am so alive,
I am Good Enough, which is something that jives, with my creator and creators ideas, and what they believe to be true, I was placed on this page, to say, dear reader, my love for you is true.
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I am unchained
Color me clearly, I once was blue, now I am any color you want, not associated with you, I am dark, I am stark, I am colored like night, I am green, I am mean, I am the color of morning light, I am the color of sunset, I am the color of day, I am the color of joy, not taken away. I am the waves of the ocean, I am the sky, blue for all, I am matters, in free for all.
He is around you, He paints reality for big and small, He is the sky, He is all.
I am dark colored, like an eclipse.
I am a depiction of reality’s kiss with human being’s eye.
I am All that colors the sky.
I am representation of pure love.
He is there in darkness, He is there in the rain, He is there in sadness, He is there in disdain, so do not anger, you can know the light, you need not falter, He is there through the night, He loves all creatures, all life big and small, He is my master.
He is reality, He is the truth. He is wanting removed.
I think it is because most of my life has been accepting I might die of shunt failure, so I became well acquainted with death and pain.
Is that the reason for the name of the site?
The name of the site is me loving my own company, which is me loving talking to you now, not before, but now.
Why not before?
Before, when I talked to you, you sounded like me, this is me beginning to know love, through you.
Her sky was painted with glowing radiance.
There once was a girl, who loved beautiful flowers, she would stare at them for hours and hours, she would wish she could be like them, fragrant, and joyous, like her name suggested. She always felt that her name was a lie, sometimes so much that it made her very sad, or even cry. She wished to a rose, or a being with anything but toes, a sea lion, a fish, not her, so sad and craving anything, but this, she wished for the bliss of the sun, her life had never been very fun, but she felt obliged to stay, not to take away the happiness of those around her.
She prayed every day, for something to give her a little bit of contentment, or even content to her life, that felt so riddled with questions and with strife. One day a voice, way up high, almost seeming to come from the sky, directed her brown eyes, to the flowers she loved so much, and she decided to begin to alter them in photographs from other people, that inspired her so, she altered the flowers, putting more light in them, thinking herself a painter with the paint brush of the stars, she put the love of a higher power in the things that made her smile.
Look at me, look at me, exercizing self-control, silly addict able to keep myself from plunging into dark vacant hole. I have done pretty good at keeping things out of my mouth or my veins, but really done nothing, other than simply abstain, and really done nothing except sit in a chair, and listen to people who have been here and there.
It is getting easier, I really must tell you, I am learning to love
I am a mix tape, I play over and over, and roll over
Everything else, so very much, that was obnoxious I hate everything I say, and wish I had someone else, so badly, but not, need to maintain distance, because love makes me rot, my brain, my brain, I am still insane, and so very vain, and obsessed with myself, I need to stop this, I am getting on my last
NERVE
NERVE
NERVE
Switch Off.
End Transmission.
Olivia, Olivia, where are you now?
You were so kind to me, while you lay on the beach, you stopped swimming, and made me realize I could just be me.
Olivia, Olivia, from heaven you came down, and touched my dirty hand, covered in mud, engaged in conflict in act of push and shove. You helped me different, seeing my real face, you helped me realize it was not me I must erase.
You held my hand, and said a silent prayer, demanding nothing and touching my hair, telling me I was not bad, and that people could be mean, I cried while you talked and pretended you didn’t see.
You told me that I could love myself, and make new friends, that all that my other friends said could be put to bed. I thank you Olivia, you helped save my life, you made me realize I need not live in strife.
I am now a different person, partly because of what you said, and now all the dark thoughts are slowly being put to bed.
Daily writing prompt
What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?
I am a moron. I just ran around for a half hour, cursing because I couldn’t find a nicotine vape.
Nothing is about me, everything is about you, I love you so much, love everything you do, if I speak this way, with this kind of language, no one will see the truth of why I live in anguish.
Nothing is about me, everything is you, I love everything you do, would do anything for you, everything I do is great, sorry you cannot relate, I am over the moon, beaming with perfection.
I live beyond detection.
LIAR LIAR
Sole on fire, of my shoe, step on me, make me a prisoner, I do not desire to be free, I live beyond blame, beyond shame, life in vein.
Heroin, heroin, hear me talk, I am addiction, I love to stalk.
I have already done it, it is complete, I have already started, I am on running fete. Defeat is in sight, so is victory, I am on a daily quest, and always will be, I eat with a spoon, no longer shoot fire, I am on a quest, to evade drug empire.
I am seeking to be, so joyous and housed, so free from madness, no longer a louse.
I am so chilly, I am icy, I have no remorse, I will nail you, I aim with force.
The window to Hell, is open.
The window to Hell is closed.
It is a choice, it is not imposed.
She was my ray of light.
She was my darkest choice.
I have closed the window.
This I did with my voice.
Open you window, open it well, let out the sun, and let your pain swell, let it move you, make you complete, let it remove, and take off your feet.
I saw jelly fish in the sky at night, with electric tendrels, they aimed to sting and bite, I was told they were not real, no matter what I feel, I was told do not have the ability to be right.
I was told, I must shut off my light, I am never right, not when reflecting and projecting, or talking to a ray or Rei of light.
I love you in green and black
What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?
I am no longer propelled by the forces of inner hell, and the power of pain swells or waves of force pushing me to consume my own tomb, cut off my own legs, while navigating through the dregs of society, because it became clear to me that, that was what I was doing at all, so now instead of remaining small and un-heroic, while trying to be a heroine…
My sun rays come from the sun now, not from the sound of human voice, that was the best choice I could have made, other than choosing sobriety, which are linked you see, she was my using buddy, and we used waters muddy, with great amounts of speed, and black tar, and though I still am scarred… I am no longer scared, because now she is no longer there to scare me, or make me afraid of Hell, or myself, really.
I am no longer the monster in someone’s nightmares, that is the improvement, and I will leave it at that.
I am a being with the power of two, I am two people doing as they do.
I am always one in chains.
Hey, not true anymore.
Is it not so?
It is not so.
Free dom
Dom, in Latin means master
Free of master, I am a master of disaster, an acid blaster, shooting acid into my own eye, to make myself, own self, I own myself, cry
Cry, baby, why oh why?
Why did I hurt myself so?
Because you are oh, so very bad at saying no.
What are you doing? You sound like a lunatic.
I, no?
You mean, ‘I know.’
No. I meant, you sound like a lunatic, because you are participating, and I always sound like one, and who cares anyway.
Look, but don’t touch
There exists a peice of my heart, on the ground, trampled right in front of a rose plant. It has been there since the winter, wishing to find shelter. It is not dead, but exists in the ground, hiding from those who used to hunt it.
It has grown into the ground, and was once one with it, now it is cradled by the roots of the plants kissed by the sun and is entwined in their plant sheild,
I am plants, I have been dug up, I am unrooted, and now I am stuck, in the form which I have taken, and in form by those who have mistaken, me for posession, though I am alive, or I was, before they contrived, their foolish plan to construct this heart, now I am dead, and must re-start.
the roots wrapped around it, protecting it from the crush of the stones around it, the plants form a nest in which it is entwined, being absent of thorns, and also grow upwards, drawing my heart closer to the surface, and out of the damp dark soil, where it lay, with each day the plants grow, and each day it gets closer to growing out of its grave situation.
I wonder what will happen when it grows out of the ground, will it die? Or will it flower?
Your hand is caught by lack of light
You sit in an empty room, friends have gone, you linger on, wishing for those with your desire for a party dead, you turn your head to the corner of the perpetual lurkers, the pained smirkers, reality deserters, wondering were we go so late, how great a party that never ends, we could be your best friends, we party till we are dead. You think this is funny, because you don’t realize I am serious, and that is not fun, but mere compulsion.
We are those who lurk below, where time goes fast and go slow.
We are those who can’t say no, and slowly it has begun to show.
If you want you can come to Hell, where we the consumers always dwell, it is not advised, and you would do well, to leave us where we rot…
We are no longer at a party, baby, we are merely ****ing crazy,
I am pour, pour, poor
I am more, more, more
Such a chore
I am sure
and a bore to maintain
This level of perpetual
Disdain
we drink till we fall down, we get up and continue to crawl the ground, we stand with powder dust, we have lost all ability to trust our senses, we exist in chaotic hell, under poison spell, we eat our souls through bitter consumption of acid bile.
I smile with the power of intoxication and fixation on meditation on the idea of eventual death. I am the quest for lie die fry. I am a funny lie.
You are not about Rei, you are about
Please can I stay for a little while longer, I don’t want to do this right now… I am not ready for this right now, I have never done this alone.
Everytime you did this you did it alone, idiot.
Everytime you do anything you are by nature doing this by yourself.
Please, let me be alright.
I am painted with disdain
I am scorched by fire
I am burned with acid reign
I can’t spell words correctly…
I am double meaning, always seeming, clearly gleaning lack of confidence decently descending always condescending attack of sole of shoe that is
YOU
YOU
YOU
You will be as alright as it is in the cards to be, the cards are not your cards…
BORROWED TIME
Do you like dimes? You’re reality and everything you believe is mine. mine. mine. mine.
Dove wings
Dove wings
Dove wings
Dove wings
Dove wings
Dove wings
Dove wings
You made a deal with me…
You made a deal in exchange for your own life.
That is insanity, I did no such thing.
Deals with the devil
That is just lived backwards.
I am not lived backwards
Forewords
Four words
Leave me alone, please.
You will not survive this time.
Not four words, you lose.
I am borrowed time, I am my life is not mine, I am sing songy bull****.
I am the heart of glass, I am fragile, but that will pass, filled with darkness from the past, but given peace I think will last.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
Clean Clothes
Access to running water
Safe place to sleep
Waking up to seeing my family
Access to coffee, nicotine, and food
“Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live.”
Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
In a tunnel in California, I am reminded of my friend, who had traveled the world, and given everything to a woman, who wasted it all before wasting away herself.
She was addicted to heroin, ironic because she was his heroine herself, dying tragically of cancer, while he paid to ease her suffering, not caring that she was spending all of his money, he only cared that he was doing whatever she asked.
I saw so much suffering out there, so much pain, I was so used to it, it is still hard to see anything else. I look for it even now, as I write this to you, but I am starting to open my eyes, and be able to see clearly, they have been shut a long time….
You are not her, but you look like Samantha
You showed me how to love anything again, being my friend when I was not even a friend to myself, licking my hands, when I was still not over the missing finger tips, showing me it is okay to have gone astray.
I had a cat like you once, who died tragically, and I never got over it, until you, your liking of my wounded hands, also helped me like my own soul again, forgiving myself for the fact that I am not super-human and couldn’t save your fellow cat from peril, when I could barely save myself.
One day, I will be were you are, I hope.
Your licking of my hands, licked the wounds that were made on my soul so long ago, when I was too drunk to think clearly to save anyone but myself from what befell my life.
I love you as I loved my other cats, and some part of me thinks you will tell them for me, because I can feel them forgiving me for not being super-human enough to save them, when you lick my hands.
That is all.
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
Looking Forward, in re-touch, makes those who touched darkness, touch things with finger paint on their hands, inner children, outer adults, re-color worlds with unique touches.
It is impossible to go anywhere
Naked and bleeding, and being naked and bleeding is not fun.
Spending time screaming about being naked and bleeding is a waste of time, so it is better to quest for clothes than spend times screaming about being naked and bleeding.
The foolish, screamers, have been taking years screaming about being cold when they could have been finding new clothes.
It is no longer cold outside.
Flying to the moon.
That is all.
The waves crush them under the force of resentment, and they don’t look back because if they did, they would see a lot of dust, in the tracks of things they left behind a long time ago.
Their dreams, their friends.
Themselves.
I speak for myself and myself only, but speak this way because there are multiple versions of me.
I am a cat. I am a cat. I am a cat. Feed me spare change, don’t feed me to an atm.
Or an at the moment feeling of homeless people shouldn’t have animals, what if I became homeless yesterday, what about my cat?
Doesn’t he get to live too?
Does he get to eat too?
Or does he get put in a cage?
Feed me change. I am an animal of a homeless person, and I have rights too, do not judge me, for having an addict as an owner.
I wonder wonder wonder why
No punctuation because I have something in my eye
I am a cat and I can’t wipe my eyes, I have claws and that would make me cry
I forgot what this post is about.
I am doubt. I am tout. I am clearly telling truth, I am a cat that is name Ruth, I am less, than human
I am Ruth Less than human.
I am a cat, I am a cat, I am a cat. I have rights and I am a cat.
I am where it is at. I am a cat. cat. cat. Feed me spare change. Sparing change. Change things for me, so I can smile again.
I stand where I stand, and make no stand of declaration for any man or any person, I just have my own views and you can pick or choose to listen and to say what you want or to hurt or to hurt or taunt, because I have been high and low and how low can you go?
Tell me, because honestly I don’t ****ing know.
I am on fire, I am on fire, I am dissent to an empire of pain, I am raining disdain on reigning disdain or anything that causes pain really. So my views are my own, and they are owned by me, clearly.
I took your name, your name, that I gave you, just in case, just in case, you find me, and hurt me for saying something, you don’t like, you don’t like.
Watch your mouth, it run south fastly, slowly, knowingly telling the truth.
Why do I disagree with porn, because sex should be had for pleasure, not to make a living, and most porn stars are women, who should be able to make a living doing something that inspires them, like being an actress, which is what most porn stars originally wanted.
I just don’t watch it, that is my solution.
Where do you run to? I ran in the dark, and it was nice, until I fell, and busted my knee.
This is who I fight, not Rei, this, strong trigger, this is raw, scary channeled nightmare.
I think of you every time I hear the peepers, not my you, the one I found on here that sounds like me, how I sounded when I talked to the burning rays of the sun, and thought I was talking to someone else, when I was really talking to resentmeant.
I married sin, it ate me from within.
I married hate, it made me quite irate.
I married wrath, it made me slay a calf.
I was really married to no one, we didn’t have the money, we spent it on heroin, if I had been married I would have been divorced 3 times.
3 strikes, I am out, of the game of slaying my exes with hexes online, because it is unkind and that puts my soul in a bind, with bought time, before I destroy me, and run on bloody knee into a train, this really happened, so insane, I think in addict brain that I am running from something, and I was, a pitbull, metaphoric because this one I can’t say online, don’t have permission to, he chased me till I ran away, afraid he would take me
OUT OUT OUT
Of the state of being able to say anything about anything ever again
Drive me INSANE
Permanently.
I am the psych patient being told, you can’t be allowed out, unless someone signs for you, and unfortunately you can’t remember your name or who to have sign for you.
****
Run.
I can’t. I am stuck in here. I am stuck sitting in a chair next to a man who doesn’t know his name either, he thinks his name is Sand.
He told me this, and I told him, I like grains.
He likes me now.
I am okay with it here, but I like the SUN.
I am so sorry to the most high, not her, not me, but the nature that rests above me, the moon, the stars, everything I do not own, that I made mine when I said.
I have the right to steal everything, from everyone, to buy heroin.
I am so sorrry, but I don’t hate me anymore, because I have written my resentments out here, and they all reflect back at me, well clearly.
Clearly, clearly, look at me, I am spinning I am free, I hurt myself, by killing my friend in only metaphoric sense, but really I kill my heart, my soul, making me an aching hole.
I would divorce myself if I could. I would divorce myself if I could, I am the screaming liar, with soul on fire, who burned fires, set by me worshipping my own death.
Clearly can’t get me, I get my self. I drink bottle HIGH on shelf, I have cut ears of injured elf… it rhymed…
Hahahhahhahahhahhaahhahhahahhahha
no no no no no.
I am the soul keeper of my own, my precious because it rings so so so true.
Ode to Schizophrenia.
I worshiped Rah. I worshiped death. I worshiped anything that would keep me in
inner turmoil.
Churning oil.
Faker faker faker. Liar. I hate myself. I put my life in fires of HELL, metaphoric and very real, because I can burn, I can feel. I
am eye of tainted man, of woman too because I am too.
Never alone, never alone, I am never alone. Always here with me. Always at my own face, screaming, I hate you.
I am the eater of Damien’s soul, I am MISERY. I EAT HIM WHOLE.
The call of the siren, the echo of sirens, screaming at me, guilty addict, stay away, kept me from your shores for 7 years, I chased you from coast to coast, hoping to forgive myself along every shore line, sure line, finding only fault lines, and gradual reclining soul decline, which is not ironic, but iconic, me an icon of pain disdain, but no more.
I am a grain of sand, on a beach, that is no longer beseached, but fully colored, not in stark darkness, but with full color because I am is no longer what it is.
It is no longer, a place of soul eating madness for me, but now a place that has been resurrected as what I loved as a child, which I was, I remember that now, not just Amanda’s imaginary friend, but half of her, she is me and I am her, and she is me. I am half of her and she is half of me? The other half doesn’t have a name, neither of us is Amanda, so until it is figured out, I am her and she is me, but to differentiate, I call her Amanda.
This is a ram. I am an aries.
I am so excited about literally what I just wrote up there, two root canals, not that I want them, but that they are root canals, and not two extractions. I thought I was going to have to have two teeth extracted, and I don’t care about how that would look, whatever about that. Change is good..
I am excited because I knew it would hurt and I knew that I am going to deny them giving me pain killers. I told the doctor I was an ex heroin addict to out myself on purpose, so they wouldn’t give them to me.
I am excited that I actually did the right thing about this. That’s all.
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 am not sure if I am going to un-feel this now, and quite frankly I don’t care, I need to escape this madness. I am going to start more diligently trying to do that every day, because I can’t do this anymore, this is unfair, and if my right to be left unbothered by someone’s need to shove beliefs down my throat, I can just make an effort to do what is best for me and get a different situation.
It involved having a PTSD flashback and mental breakdown, that I am still dealing with the ramifications of now. My entire body hurts, its strange. I think it might be good that this happened, it happened and I am not dead, so that’s good… I guess? I just want to get away from here… I am trying to deal with someone who does not understand that whatever they may feel, it is not appropriate to follow everyone around shouting about their views, when their views weren’t asked. They weren’t involved in any specific discussion with me, they just were going around literally and I mean this literally meaning this is what happened… over and over and over and over and over and over repeating and repeating
Stand here and listen to everything I say for 30 minutes, even though I know you are doing something, even though you asked me kindly to stop, even though you have made it clear that you don’t want to talk about this.
These are my political views
This is why I am right.
This is how this applies to this topic which has nothing to do with politics.
Look at this video that is 10 minutes long with someone saying I am right.
Read this thing that says I am right.
If I said no to any of this, they would follow me around screaming about I was not educated, unkind, and wrong.
If I said nothing, they would scream about how I was not listening.
If I walked away they would follow me, explaining how they have a right to have their views heard.
The thing is, I never asked for their views about politics. I said I like chocolate ice cream.
This is literally insane. The chocolate ice cream example is not an exaggeration, it is not the thing that started the thing, but it was something like that, and I had such a hard core panic attack and episode after what they did, I can’t even remember what they decided to use as an opportunity to attack views I don’t even have. I am not political at all really, I like to stay out of other people’s business…
I am exhausted and am going to bed. I wish I could leave this house. I am going to work on that going forward every day now, this is insanity.
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.
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 handto 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…
Daily writing prompt
How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
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.
“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.
I used to believe in luck, and my ability be flying through life on the wings of a plane, that was going down, to the ground, burning till I realized, I could jump off the plane, and trust, that I need not be a brain that was covered in rust, I could get clean by rain that was brought by trust, that all I needed to do is look up, and see what was above me. I am not the highest thing, I may have been higher than anything, but I was falling fast, and rather be destined to crash.. I realized that I had to make my life last and grab onto something that would make things last.
I now believe in faith, or simply have it I guess, and so when my mind is unrest, I do not feel pain in my chest, or find myself compelled to undertake dark quest for something ripped out of devil chest, I simply trust in something higher than fire could ever make me, and I am finally realizing that is greatly
More peace-bringing than luck and a dedication to an empire fueled by fire driven desire could ever make me in a million years.
I didn’t know the river, that I thought was a river, was really a swamp. I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, it was too dark.
I had not paid much attention either, having had to make a quiet escape, while my “friend” was sleeping, so as to not offer any explanation and justify my leaving.
I am looking out over the water, I am hot and itchy, it has been days since I showered, and by days, I mean… probably weeks, probably a month. I don’t know the difference between the segments of time, they make no difference to me anymore. I am itchy, and there is water… or ehm.. I was itchy.. and there was water… I am not good at the whole tense thing sometimes either… I am always tense…….. tense….. it is just a state of mind….
I jump into the river, or what I think is a river, and it feels good for a second, just one, till I realize what I have done, and the fatal error I have made. This is a swamp. I panic, pulling at weeds, and struggling to not sink too far into it, it takes me 45 minutes to escape my failure at showering, and I look like a drowned muskrat.
I used to play Mario, and have hissy fits at the screen when I would lose, I hated it, but everyone liked it, so I would play it and almost break the game system, and ruin it for everyone else. I was never a very happy child.
Everyone else would sit there laughing at making jokes, enjoying the thrill of the game, and I would be thinking about stealing wine from downstairs, because Mario made me so freaking nervous. I was always running of cliffs or jumping into the Goombas, hands shaking with anger or nervousness, and then running away to go find alcohol downstairs. I was 13.
My entire life as far as I can remember, has been very much like this game, a chaotic running into Goombas, or dealers, or cops, or people who want to kick my *** because I ripped them off, or my family mad because I spent all my money on things that no one should spend any of their money on.
I am happy today because I literally forgot, today is my 90th day sober and clean. I am so consumed with being happy about other things, I forgot I was not drinking or doing drugs.
I have never known happiness like this. It cost me nothing, and I can have it by not buying things I didn’t need, if I keep doing the right thing, which makes me feel good anyway.
HIGH SCORE
Trigger Warning: Themes include drugs, alcohol, resentment, and struggle to become more placid through surrending my will to a higher power.
I used to watch this movie about a crocodile when I was a kid, and everyone else would sit there scared, not only at the crocodile, but at the fact that I thought it was funny, to see people getting ripped into peices. I would sit there laughing like the hyenas in the Lion King, because I hated those around me so much for being born normal, while I was born with all this **** wrong with me.
I would imagine that the crocodile was killing them, slaying my enemies, for having been given the grace of something I thought specifically hated me. I imagined how easy it would be to placid, if I only were them, that they did not know the unique struggles I had faced, and that was why it was okay, just for me to do whatever I wanted, like steal booze from my mom, when I was 12, and sometimes drink booze I stole when no one was looking at Christmas, or try to get people at Christmas to let me smoke cigars.
I started drinking heavily when I was 18, and continued drinking heavily, until I thought I could not do it well anymore, without aide from sedatives, and uppers to balance the sedatives, and then of course, my best friend alcohol. This was when I was 28.
I started doing heroin and meth, when I was 28, is what I am saying here. That is a lie. I tried meth for the first time when I was 21, but started regularly using it when I was 30. I would occasionally do it whenever it was available since I was 18.
I once had someone pay me for an adventure in a motel with it, when I was 21. I stayed up all night with them, and got paid to stay up all night with them.
This is what I have come to realize through stepping away, towards a sober more placid life style. I was getting paid to be high by doing things I had to be high to do.
Misery cycle.
Mercy cycle is harder.
I like meditating on a higher power better now. Much more placid lifestyle.
I am looking for my dog outside, cursing the universe, screaming in chaos. Running in the streets screaming the name Fiona over and over. I am having a panic attack simultaneously, cursing everything that there is in the universe that caused this to happen.
I forget that I caused this to happen. This is a looking back view of this by the way, brought on by PTSD. My ex’s father just died, and I feel bad because we, meaning my ex and I, not the plural of me, put that man through hell.
I forget sometimes, my own role in the decisions that lead to the situations I am faced with, and I am very prone in those moments, to screaming at something in the sky when I should just looking for my dog.
I have been prone to reverse things…
See Clearly
Clearly See
Daily writing prompt
What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?
Around my eyes, not on my eyes, because it is the closest I can get to altering my face, without doing the whole plastic surgery thing. I hate my face.
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. […]
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.
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.
A journey through MISERY
PUSH PLUNGER GO ON THE EYE OF A NEEDLE RIGGED WITH SPENDTHRIFT DEATH
Forgetting is a tragic problem I have, but it is getting better, as my ego dies, and I open my eyes to the fact that I could not see, because I was sick and deranged by a disease strange and prone to mange and change human form, to distort and contort the human body, and make it unrecognizable to the have-
er of one.
I have been know as a chaos chaser of dragons, a pusher of substance, and prayer in holes of foxes, in ditches, in alleyways, a shooter of heroes, and a placer of ins and outs in acts heroic so I can go without doing them, pushing them in with sowing needles that stitch me out and in to a quilted madness in the bed I was making and would have to lie in and lay in, in death.
I have come to a place now where I can go home as well, well too.
This home allows the chaotic night to continue without my pushing assertion of madness, and it is a little quieter minus one night crier night crawler, who now sleeps and dreams.
Explanation: About drug and alcohol addiction- horse- metaphor used to indicate narrator is ex-heroin junkie, if this is offensive to you, read no further.
I am changing, in ways I didn’t think were possible, thinking myself already dead, doomed, a walking corpse, my whole life, chased and miserable, by a misery demon or resentment personified.
I have spent my whole life running from the voice of this reaper, thinking it to be my doom, my embarrassment, my tormentor, my silent passenger, riding on the back of my soul, like a man rides a horse, making me a horse, and resentment my master.
Today, for the first time in my entire adult life… I realized… I am beginning to derive satisfaction, from something that is pure and unselfish. This is insane to me, an insane person. I am no longer a horse to a demon that rides my back.
I am able to walk again, and for this I am eternally thankful to everything higher than I ever was or could be. I don’t even need a horse anymore.
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.
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.
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
I am learning that my strongest failure was resistance, a frantic running against the tide of the ocean, frantic drowning, instead of flowing with the tide and riding waves peacefully to shore, it’s funny, I am a good swimmer, I am not good at drowning.. I know this because I em.. have tried, and found myself so enthralled by the ocean, that I forgot I was trying to drown. This is an excellent way of explaining through poetic metaphor how it feels to be me now. I started reaching out to people around me, anyone I could really, desperate for distraction from a world that I already was not around anyway. I was enthralled by frantic fantasy off screaming into nothing, thinking myself so free, because in my delusional habit based state, I failed to see that I was being nothing more than a habitual sleepwalker. I have been asleep walker most of my life, thinking the world was so awful that I thought I found it preferable to exist in some sort of extended across the universe dilated dream state of chaotic extension. I figured out recently that this was causing a fragmentation of my brain, that was breaking me.
I have lost pieces of myself in this process, but I owe it to the universe, and its genius ability to have a will stronger than the will of the psychotic night crier of the dying man of madness, for having a plan in mind that was stronger than anything that I could push against it.
I have gained all this insight through nothing of my own power, but through simply this, I told the powers higher than me, speak through me, my hands are yours. Tell them what they need to hear, or whatever you want me to say. I am a tool of mercy. I hope I find others who will do the same, I find more and more of them every day.
The quilts blow in the wind, the dangle in the flapping breeze that does so well to dry them, after having been bathed in the river, washing them of their previous… stains… I used to be prone to.. bleeding on things. Lots of things… so I had lots of blankets… that I stole from an artist named Sara Whiley. I don’t know much about the woman, just know the name for some reason. Strange. I am glad the quilts are drying. They are actually quite beautiful.
They look a lot better now that I have slept. I like the colors of them. Maybe I should give them back. Maybe I give them back I can leave Misery, my land of addiction in my mind of psycho delusion and love myself enough to be a real human being all the time, not just sometimes.
This is already happening dufus.
Oh yeah, right.
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.
I have heard this in my head for a long time. I have always wondered what it means. I do not know why I hear it, but I am starting to be able to venture towards some sort of a guess. I think most of my life I have used my ability to use words to get people to do things that facilitate my addiction. I was a manipulator of the human word, serving myself in heaped on pain through being chained to a misery god that desired only my suffering. I did not realize this at the time. I thought it was giving me the ability to survive. I did not realize it was quite the opposite. It was trying to keep me just alive enough and feeding on my suffering while something else, something good kept me alive. I owe my life to that something good, and its sad, I have cursed the something good and served the misery virus in my soul.
I have a very backwards way of thinking, or I did. Now I don’t.
I want now only to bring kindness into this world. It does not make sense to do otherwise.
I am free. 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
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?
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.
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?
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
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 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..
Which animal would you compare yourself to and why? I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.
See clearly
I was always hearing your voice, Rei, and mocking it, telling myself that I needed to attack Amanda, attacking my higher power, attacking myself, when I should have been attacking not you, but everything that you were shouting at me. I thought it so essential to focus on the service of your demands, thinking you were a bird singing to me in beautiful songs, but you were not. You were woman who was very good at mimicking bird songs, who controlled the behavior of an insecure egomaniac who hates himself. You were my Lady Macbeth.
I feel this stronger than ever now that I thought about all night. You were very similar to Lady Macbeth. You wanted conquest, not of the world, but of the land that we live in, Misery, or addiction so that I could bring you drugs. I thought I was doing you a favor, a drug dealer, a hit man and a servant of a woman who wanted things so bad she was wiling to destroy the soul of someone she said she loved. I am realizing you did not love me. You never loved me. You loved your drugs, you loved my doting on you, and you loved the lack of accountability that came with being a mocking jay. I think I would have to say if I had to be an animal I would be crow/mocking jay.
I know this is against the rules, but is not paranoid schizophrenia against the rules, as well?
I say that I would be this because you used Amanda’s voice, my best friend to speak doubt at me, because she sounds like you, speaking like a woman, and I being an idiot would hear your voice, Rei in my voice or Amanda’s voice, that is why I was always trying to ruin Amanda’s life and she was always trying to ruin mine. She was hunted by Justin and I was hunted by you, so we thought ourselves chased by each other, when honestly, we were star-crossed lovers, who were lovers only in that we were inter-dimensional invisible men, insane, fighting madmen from Misery dimensions, trying to fight ourselves. I am so glad I got away before you killed me you harpee, you miserable creature, medusa, siren of hellfire, you will not longer use the call of bird to torment me any longer.
Crows, are intelligent creature, who make tools to catch bugs, they are the only bird who has the ability to do so, they have several calls they can make, and they are good at mimicking the voices of other birds. Amanda would be the mocking jay because I see now she had always been trying to mock you, not the other way around. Telling the difference between the two of us with place keeping device of how is Rei, as if to poke me and say do you realize you serve her the same way you served drugs. I am the servant of no one. I am not even good at serving myself food or water, I quit being Resentment’s waiter.
Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.
Dear Self,
I know you forget this often, I love you. I am not saying this out of some weird desire to do something deviant, and stroke my own ego. I know that I sometimes forget that I am human being, that I have feelings to, so I hope that this finds you not in that state of mind, which I imagine it will because of how I feel right now. I love you, self. I am not saying that to be psychotic, and I am not doing it out of mental illness, I am doing it because I am trying to put a post it on my own fridge in the future. I want you to know that no matter what happens, whatever ways you fail, things can always get better if you just keep trying. I know this now, so I know you know this too. I just wanted to remind you that you love yourself. This is not weird or wrong. It is something everyone else does, that I forget to do because I used to use it to make excuses to hurt myself because I am an addict and alcoholic.
That is just who you are. It is no different than having ADD. It is a disease that causes lack of ease and makes you think things that justify doing things that are irrational like killing yourself with something that poisons you, because you have a deviant response to alcohol because of an allergy your mind has to it, like being allergic to oranges. Don’t hate yourself because of this, you are allergic to latex, do you hate yourself because of that? No. Same thing.
Love you.
Yourself.
I really felt like I was drowning under the weight of my own self-hatred. I felt like I had my hands around my neck all the time, strangling myself, to prevent anything else bad from coming out of me and infecting the world, feeling like I needed to be punished for everything I had done when I had no idea what I was doing. I blamed myself for everything that had happened but I also resented a cold, hard, world that I believed to be cruel at me specifically.
I believed if people only knew what I had to deal with they would know why I did what I did, so I started talking in the meetings, about my situation and trying to get people to understand what I did was justified, justifying it to myself, without knowing that no one had asked me to justify my decisions, they already understood that I had done what I had done because something is wrong with me, and they have the same problem, and get it even though they are unique, and yet the same. I didn’t get it until today. I am not unique or alone, I am just an addict and alcoholic and I don’t need to hate myself anymore, I just need to try to be better and that is enough.
I am so happy I realized this before killing myself.
Damien
I didn’t realize until very recently, the mental shackles I always had on. I thought I was so free running through live without an obligation, and not obliged to help anyone, making no ties with anyone, so they couldn’t do anything to infringe on my freedom, the most valuable thing to me. I don’t think I have ever understood what the word freedom even means. I thought myself free because I had nothing, no obligations, no friends, no home and thought I was the most free person in the entire world. I was so wrong, man. I was the most shackled person in the entire world, I was chained to something that wanted me completely alone.
It wanted me to hate myself, telling me I was insane for feelings of being someone born in the wrong body, telling me everyone hated me, that I was wrong about everything, my taste in everything was a symptom of mental illness, had me believing I was not someone worth saving because I was not worth it.
My resentment of the whole thing has caused me recently to lash out about it at meetings and I have been met with the strangest thing. I expected to be shut down, put in my place and then told that I had to bend to some system, to which I was to be shackled and inevitably fail at upholding. The strangest thing I experienced recently, is that I was completely wrong. I know that is weird to say now, but I didn’t feel that way before today. I thought my life of deviant behavior was met with the punishment of sobriety. I even felt like this when saying things that sounded inherently positive on here, thinking myself just lucky to be alive and bending over and doing whatever they said to do like some lost dog.
I know now I have been freed today, and the rest of my life, by the realization that the shackles came from resentment not the meetings, and they were taken off by sobriety and the meetings I am going to that are saving my life, by letting me know that I am not unique, I did not fail in any unique way. That is amazing. It is not a punishment to be where I am, it is a very rare gift, and I am so thankful for it. I have a friend in every individual in the rooms of recovery, because even in all our uniqueness we are so very much the same, and they accept me instantly, without excuses. I don’t know what to say. I am so happy to have realized this before I killed myself over the guilt I felt.
I will inevitably go back and forth about this, but I know this in the back of my mind now, and it has saved my life in amazing ways, thank you to everything and everyone that helped me get there.
Damien
“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.”
I have always wanted the peace of joyous people. I am crazy. I am dominated by fear and have been since eight years old when I experienced early onset of paranoid schizophrenia. I became unable at this time to control my actions easily and began drinking and using to deal with this at 13. I would steal alcohol and drugs or buy drugs anytime I could, because I also have hydrocephalus, a birth injury from a failure of the doctor who delivered me, I am lucky to be alive, so I decided to have a hissy fit about it my whole life and use it as an excuse for my addict/alcoholic life style. I am this way because I am an addict and alcoholic first and foremost.
Since I was a child, I could not figure out what enough even meant. I don’t like being told no even by my own self. I am addicted to pain because seizures have dulled my nerves, which were further dulled by self medicating my neurotic mind with substances, which I worshiped like idols, and built my whole life around the pursuit of.
I have nothing now because I chose this, so please, my desire is not for pity, just for people to understand what drives an insane man.
I love humanity while also hating you, which I separate myself from because I am weak, terrified and selfish. I see this now in lucidity. I am so guilty every second, but trying to make my life now, not about me. I am so sorry. I am doing my best to change, my **** that I post, it helps me, it is exaggerated and mostly allegory, but my feelings are real and they are hard for me to deal with so I process them with lies that have feelings inside them.
Thanks, now it is not as ******* cold in here.
I know I kill you sometimes with lack of thank you, so this is my way of saying
Merci? Is that how you spell that?
Yes, it is.
Okay, yeah thank you. I forgot which one of us was talking, isn’t that cool.
Not a question, a statement
state ment.
I don’t like rules.
This song on the pandora station is making me think of that movie Patch Adams.
Peace
Later
This was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I felt like I could hear the voice of God, or higher power, or spirit in the sky or spirit of humanity or higher power or spirit of the nature of all humans and animals, spirit of nature, whatever means something to you. I felt like I was hearing my higher power speak to me through every human being in the room, who were also all speaking to each other, and for each other in a concert of voices clearly and loudly and I realized this has been happening the whole time and I just wanted to share it with anyone and everyone who is receptive to hearing that it happened. I love my life right now, and I love it because I feel such an intense love for everything and everyone around me, and I am so sorry for ever being so resentful of the force of live flowing through me but also through everyone else. I am so sorry, but minus the resentment of the past. I am just thankful to whatever kept me alive. I don’t have a name for it, I guess….
I just know that it spoke to me through everyone today, shouting in love and peace and joy and I wanted to share that with all of you willing and wanting to listen, please don’t ever give up on anything that brings you peace and joy and love for that is the answer.
I love everyone that is willing to listen, and even those who are not, every single one of you, is a human being and with your shared wisdom there is a body of knowledge of humanity, and it is beautiful and frees me every day of my life. I love you and I don’t even know you, imagine how much those who are lucky enough to be able to know you feel, be strong every one of you. It is all beautiful and worth it, and you got this, every day you have the power within you to overcome whatever unique set of challenges you face, because you are here for a reason, to do whatever you are set to do, you are special and can contribute something to humanity in whatever way you do, because you are the only you, and you are loved, and hold within you the possibility of greatness.
Please be kind to yourself and others.
We love you.
Yours,
See Clearly
Thank you to the mental clarity of returning sanity, I never had because I never was an adult not high. I started drinking and using at 13, unbeknownst to those who loved me. I didn’t realize the effect it had on anyone but me because, unlike myself people care about each other, and it was painful to watch someone they loved going through hell wrought by my hands which have a predisposition to fictionalizing pain so I can flush my life down the drain, I am done being the bully, and shoving my own head in the toilet, to vomit life’s medicine of my own undoing into the toilet that was my only shower when I was homeless, metaphorically, I am not that disgusting don’t worry.
I am seeing so much clearer now, and not afraid anymore.
Here is a funny dog, because he is better at dealing with life than me.
Heh.
Damien
I don’t care how freakin’ dorky this band is, I love hair metal, and I think they are awesome, and there is nothing anyone can say to change my mind because I am only talking to my own insecurity right now.
Got that one? Me neither. I forgot what I meant to. Moving on.
Ever have a dream that is really reality? Me too.
By me too, I am mean yes, and if you didn’t well then… stinks to be you?
You smell I mean.
That is mean.
Must cause scene.
Must cause seen.
GET OUT
This is getting easier.
Rei and Joy went to go photograph flowers growing naturally outside in the park. Amanda is going with her father who she forgave for her getting angry at him for being a human who didn’t like to see her sad.
Jab.
I know, I told him last night I was wrong too.
He appreciates it.
Done with you now.
Me too.
Not you, they.
No you too.
I want you to know my friends, I love you. I want only good things for you. I want flowers, and laughter and children who come home at night. I want the saving of souls of my generation who are tragically dying on the streets. I am not an expert in recovery, I am simply the voice of one recovering addict who does this to stay sober, as a meditative exercise that helps me remember why I left, and how much I love my family and potential new friends.
My message to you is this, death’s kiss kills.
Do anything but that.
It is not worth using. It is not worth drinking. It is not worth running from inner demons, they exist on the pacing night of the midnight streets.
They are the possessing forces of the lost and addicted who “know not what they do.”
I am not romancing any drugs or drinks as much as I used to. I still do it sometimes, because I am crazy. My goal is to see and help others see the hope and joy and peace in recovery.
No she is not, you don’t kill, you torture, you are source of disorder and perpetual pain enforcer
You are a sorcerer of remorse on deadly course that needs interaction for satisfaction and I am not stupid anymore so I can stop rhyming because you are a sore on the
Screw you.
I am done.
Do you believe in fate/destiny?
In a word, yes. In many words, let me explain.
1. I believe we are fated to have one of two outcomes, us fighting fate with negative outcome because of perpetual running from the fated designed destiny that we are prescribed with as a prescription to the chaos of the universe.
2. I believe we get the positive outcome through serenity, and surrendering our fate to hands of the universe, and turning our will to something that guides us through peaceful acceptance and meditation on the idea that we are not like we previously tried to assert, the center of the universe, but a small part of a bigger picture, that is the picture of the whole earth and the many galaxies outside this one.
I believe in something higher than me, so I don’t get high and drunk and can finally be free, and am not a slave to sing song rhyming ghosts that seek to push me into a corner and make me a toking, smoking, drinking, non-thinking joke of a human being.
I am trying every day to remember this, and my other mind is trying as well, in their present universe, while I operate in the future, with tools of joy instead of tools of pain. We are able to speak to each other now, as we were fated to as spirit guides, inter-dimensional past, present future selves, existing as each other’s past present future, but also as each other self. I think that is what is meant, by two-spirit. I am me and she is they and forever will we ever stay as one but also two and we are everything we do, and what and what they do too. That is what I was destined to do.
I was destined to do what I do now as well and now that I don’t live in Hell, it seems to me if you can’t tell, that things have finally started to go well, which I guess was the prescription for my disease they call addiction and I think, my friend it was destined to that I live, to talk to you.
Relating story of lived life, of bringing pain and bringing strive, of pounding drinkings and slamming drugs, of being friend and giving love, I was meant to say all this to you so you could see clearly too I am not that much different than man who doesn’t use or drink, I was just intoxicated and couldn’t think so now that I am in present mind, reality is not so unkind and I have the time realize many things I ignored and destiny is no longer a chore.
Darkness lies in worshiping eyes of despise of cries of intense pained men, that descend on pretend.
Leave me alone. I am not doing this right now. I have other things to say. I am erase. I am waste. I a
am strong, and you are weak you need souls misery and I am meek. I am kind. I am true. I can yell right back at you. I can but won’t not like you I am.
Hey Amanda!
Yeah! Isn’t this kinda cool?
Yeah it’s like a words battle with a glass that has been staring at me. You should have Rei help you more. It hates her, and she is stronger than me.
I am doing things now other than this blog, that is not some snotty, I have too much time for the *&^! thing, I am not trying to sound like a jerk, even though somehow I always seem to think I do. Thanks universe, or me, because I am the one deciding to say things myself, and have no one to blame, but me.
Oh, word vomit. I hate you.
Seriously though, I found a way to pay for a place to live at least a little bit, or bit save up for a place to live, and I won’t have to live under a bridge committing senseless atrocities. I am helping my friend, who is not me list things online and she is paying me and Amanda is helping me. It is a person from Amanda’s universe, but we both have the same hands, and the internet works in mysterious ways, and extension of disbelief… bear with me poetic metaphor blah blah blah. I have no idea what I am talking about either because a couple weeks ago I was insane. I am still insane, but I am working on it. I am trying not to be such a &*^&.
I am just glad I have a little reason not to hate myself.. or a step in the right direction? It also shows we are beginning to be positive forces in each other’s life.
Misery Loves Their Own Company 