Made of Stardust and Light

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

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

I do not understand you right-ly.

I am not saint-ly.

I am a liar and a theif.

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

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

I am

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The Night Swimmer

Out of this World

I am extremely happy that they are doing okay, which is partially because I have stopped being such an ***hole.

I hadn’t realized how much my ridiculous narcissistic behavior affected my family until recently, because I didn’t think of anyone, but myself. I am trying now to also think of them, because as much as I like to think I live in a vaccuum, people care about each other, and even though I used to not care about anyone, but me… it is only fair that I start to care about them, because they care about me.

My brother taught me this, kind of… some of it came from each of them. My mother, my father, and my brother. I have a sister as well, and have since being back in this house made peace with her, but she lives far away, so I have not seen her to make ammends with her.

I am not supposed to be doing any of this yet, but I am good at jumping off cliffs, so I feel like at least it should be for a good reason.

Damien

Nueral Pathways

Realization: Real Situation: Realizing Fixation

I am sticks and stones,

I break bones, but I am better at poking eyes of those who don’t know how to leave well enough

WELL ENOUGH

My cage is an internal cage, a cage of lost mind, of entwined, with the vines of furious design.

WELL ENOUGH

WELL ENOUGH

ENOUGH

WELL

Alone.

I don’t get other people sometimes, the lack of understanding of those who are usually understanding astounds me, whenever it happens. I was helping Diane with something, and I am afraid of spider, so I reacted like I am afriad of spiders, and apparently it is a problem if I am afraid of spiders outside. Not my problem. Moving on.

It looks like it is going to rain in the area I live. I like the rain, when I am living inside. I am looking forward to being on my own.

I miss not having people accost me for what I am doing when my reaction is not the same as theirs.

Oh, well.

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

DEATH

MY OWN

MY PRECIOUS

MY DISCARDED

RINGS true doesn’t it?

Answer me

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

DOWN THE DRAIN, because over night you went insane,

JUST TEMPORARILY

IS that so?

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

DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT??

Enough to do it.

You are disgusting.

GOTCHA, you are talking to yourself.

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?

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

____________________________________________________________________________

Ticking time Expose

I am the mind of Damien de Soto.

I am the mind of the reckless psycho.

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

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

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

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

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

I am yes, but also I am no.

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

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

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

Peace.

I am not going to say anything identifying on here because they asked me not to, but we both feel bad for them, because I/we… haha the royal we…. I am such an a$%…

I feel bad for the hell they went through while I wasn’t here made worse by me. My family is unlucky and experiences a great deal of very bad hands.

That’s all I’ll say.

I’m sorry guys.

Later

Amanda