Flower Garden

I am reading a book about taking advice that I give other people, the author suggested that I write a letter to you, my younger self. This is odd for me, because when I was you I used to write to me. I am glad you are who you are, because you being who you are has made me, us, who we are.

I need little water, I am very relisiant, painted with colors, to look like I am brilliant.

Thank you for saying that, I always think you think you are better than me.

I am a doll house, I glow in the dark.

I am painted with re-touch, with light bright for those afraid of the light stark.

I never say that, I say that I am glad I am who I am, which I owe to you.

Again, thank you.

You are very welcome, and thank you for growing up, and realizing we are us.

Damien

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Burning Canoe

Sometimes, I wake up and I am not me, but someone else, somewhere else, and if nothing else, I am aware, that this means very bad things are happening to me, somewhere else, where I am actually myself. This time, I wake up in a painting. I am not sure why, but I am aware that I am in the painting, which kind of feels like lucid dreaming for normal people, I guess.

It feels like actually being in a canoe, like I am imagining is in the painting which I am hallucinating, or for regular people, lucid dreaming. The only difference is very strange. I am extremely warm. It feels like sunburn.

I am so warm in fact, that I want to jump out of the canoe, which I do, immediately, and feel the water in the painting hit my skin, but also feel the burning sensation go away, as I imagine other water hits my real skin. I am comforted by this fact, that somewhere ele, where I actually am, I am not burning alive, and then I hear it, a commotion, coming from somewhere else, it is a sound I recognize, fire alarm, blarring, somewhere else.

My apartment is on fire.

I am brought back to present time, someone is spraying those of us walking out with a firehose. I am holding a painting of people in a canoe. The strange thing is, it is not the painting from my apartment, there is someone in the waterr next to the canoe, they were not there before.

I am running through the desert, not sure how long I have been running, because it feels like I just woke up upright, which I am used to because it happens when I am upset.

I am unsure of where my dog is, this is in the past, so I actually have this dog, and it is not a figment of my imagination. I had a pitbull when I was dating this other girl, before Rei.

My chest is pounding, as if I have been running for hours, I am unsure of how long I have been runnning.

I don’t know where you are, but you can’t be very far, and I don’t know where I am, but I feel like I am very far from sane, you are the only thing in my brain.

I hear my dog in the distance, I am sure of it. I run, my chest pounding.

The sky is different now, the blue becoming a pretty pink, and I wonder if it is an indication of a storm, or an indication that I am in fact dreaming.

This doesn’t feel right

I hear you, my dog, not my ex, in the distance, you are barking in a way that I understand, it sounds like you are speaking to me… from far away… I can hear you saying that it is not present time… I am in the past…. this is not possible so… I choke on my breath. I am not sure what is going on… I wake up and I feel around for Rei… thinking myself next to her…. then I remember… I am alone.. this is farther into the future… I am alone… just a dream… just a dream… I miss my dog.

I am never open, I am always shut

I am reminded sometimes of nights I spent trying to get to somewhere safe. I would be walking somewhere, and would find myself in a neighborhood, not much unlike any other neighborhood, except a little different. This neighborhood was gated, nobody ever gets in, and nobody ever gets out. The gates enclosed the neighborhood so that was the exact case, exact except not exactly…

That is not always the case… There were times, when staring at certain lights, for a certain amount of time… seemed to have an effect on the bodies orientation towards theres neighborhoods with these gates that no one could ever escape from.

These lights had a specific patterning, they would go on and off in thirty second intervals six times. They were always a glowing red, and would always all together do this weird on and off signaling, and after that signaling the gates of this community would close, having been open before, unbeknownst to any traveler that happened to walk through them, after this signaling, as if prompted by this signaling, people would let out their dogs.

The dogs though enclosed by the gates would somehow be able to make it to the road, where an enclosed passerby that had happened to get trapped in this gated community, would then be trapped in the gated community with six dogs, always six never more, never less…. as if by magic… always six.

The dogs would chase and bite at ankles and people in black vehicles would pass by watching and sometimes would chase as well as the dogs, never assisting always chasing, sometimes almost plowing into you. Very strange…………………

The strangest things

I was walking once, in the middle of the night. It was about three in the morning. I had been drinking after hours with a group of people that I had met at the bar that seemed interesting enough to be worth talking with a little longer, so I went back to their place and stuck around till about 4 in the morning. I like to watch the sun rise, so I left with enough time to be able to catch the sunrise.

I began walking from the house, unfamiliar with where I was and trying to get my bearings, I was beginning to return to hated sobriety, and had the very beginnings of that having slept in a whiskey bottle feeling, like the mouse in Dumbo.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vehicle come up alongside me, or so I thought. I looked to my side, having sworn I saw it move. The strangest thing, was the car alongside me, that I swore had just parked next to me, looked unoperational. It had two flat tires and a bunch of tickets tucked under the windsheild wipers that were soaking wet, looking like they had been there long enough that the car was recognized to be abandoned.

I still wonder to this day, why had I seen the car driving… was I in some alternate dimension for a second…

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/rdp-sunday-muskrat/

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 am sitting by the water again. I am looking out into the ever expanding nothing, I say ever expanding because the lights of the streetlights are going in and out and in and out next to me. They turn on and off, not on a timer but timed randomly with something. I have noticed that they respond to my movement, they turn on and off as if communicating with something in me, but I do not know what it is. They seem to respond to certain kinds of thought, but it is uneasy to place. I am not sure what it is. There turning on and off varies not by the kind of thought being positive or negative, that does not matter, they respond to recognition and the level to which the thought is thought, to intensity not to the kind of intensity.

I move towards them and it seems to me, like they are dancing with me. They turn on and of and on and off on my skin, and it is almost as if I can feel a warmness, that is not heat related. It is a warmness felt in something else, I feel it in my soul. I do not know what that means.

I just know that when I move the lights turn on and off as I think they are going to. I walk and they follow me, they light my way or shade it.

I do not know how to deal with this, what to do about it.

I just know I do not walk in the dark ever.

The universe paints in color, mostly, but there are beings in black and white, shadow people who do not get the colors of reflected light

Colored beings dance throughout the world, reflecting light on shadow men, who do not participate just observe and defend something that I do not know yet, I am not sure, think I forget… and I have been wondering lately what I forgot, sitting and thinking about what remains to be sought.

I am thinking so, and sitting alone, as I do because I know that I am a shadow of the people I can see, I see them, they can’t see me. I am a shadow of their reflections of light. I am not real, just a lack of light.

I hear a sound from behind and turn around, it is not a light beaming but the sound of down.

I am taken back, but I am not scared, some how it feels like I always knew this was there, speaking to me in shades I get, anger, pain and deep regret

I look to it, and it sees me, makes eye contact and warns me, do not be like me, please.

What do you mean? I say, and then it simply walks away.

I’ll show you what do honey, it is easy really, you just lie with reckless abandon and take with impunity, giving nothing and stealing everything until they have nothing left, and then you leave and do it to someone else, you need no friends, I am you and with my help I will fuel your dreams till they become nightmares, and you will walk through a bleary eyed world of no sleep till the day you keel over and die from exhaustion.

Damien de soto, In the beginning

He came to me many times throughout my life, starting at seven years old, he was always the same age, 38. He must have done something at 38 that got to him, and he got stuck there, and paced through life stuck there, inter-dimensional time traveling ghost of Christmas future that he was, he showed me how to be everything that I am. We were thick as thieves and thieves as well. It is a very clever device to get whatever you want, all the devices he taught me, I mean. He is skilled with words, and I admired that, being a writer myself, but he was man, and had the appearance I wish I had myself, but I did not find myself attracted to him in the traditional way.

I want to hide away in the back of a cave
At the top of a mountain
Where no one can hear me and no one can see me
So I don't have to deal with them
And they don't have to deal with me

Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”

I was attracted to him sure, in the way a moth is drawn to flame, and for the longest time, I chased after this, burning my heart with the hot hands of bad men, not knowing I was hunting my own self, seen through the mirror of other dimensional Damien de Soto. He was me and I was in love with myself, and the selfish pursuit of the things that made this an easier admission. I cared nothing for the human beings I robbed, tricked, lied to or manipulated, they were simply devices for spare changes that in their mental sparring with my soul, cut deeply into my ideas that I resembled anything that could be called even close to human at all. I was so in love with him because he was me, and I desired to be him.

So that is who I became.

I am not that thing anymore, do you still like me now?

More than ever. You have discovered with me that true strength is in love.

I just wonder which one of us typed that. I logged on here, and I don’t have memory of typing it, neither does Rei and I don’t think my daughter did, because she is not here right now. I had a feeling the thing wanted her to go to the party, because it’s addiction speaking and it likes it when people party because otherwise it whnglbwilgkigheshjegnwkgnw

I kind of like it when it does that. It’s like a hand exercise, bite me.

If you can’t tell, Amanda is becoming more integrated with me, and focusing on making changes to become me, because I rule. Sorry, that was stupid.

That is why you hear very little about her life, because like mine, she spends most of it on here writing to you. Except she doesn’t have a nuclear family.

You’re an @$$^&(@!

I know.

I am leaving now.

Okay.

In case your wonder, not you Amanda, because you are me, heh….

I am not worried about having made the wrong choice about the party, she would have gone anyway even if we said no, and now she won’t resent us for not letting her go, so she is more likely to beat the virus of the mind.

But, what do I know, I am insane.

Imagination to transcend Misery into the multiplicity of joy.

I think I am just so glad I can still talk to you.

Addict.

Loser.

Not nice.

I love you.

That’s gross.

Is it gross to love yourself?

No, it’s not.

How is Rei?

That’s how you center yourself isn’t it.

Yes.

She’s watched this movie with Joy and we are waiting for doordash.

Us too, minus me watching a movie.

Minus me watching a movie too. I don’t watch movies, because I am a cat with no eyes.

I should have looked in the mirror when I was you, because I have no ides what you look like.

I looked in the mirror as you and you look like an @#%&*().

I still need you by the way.

You are my friend, you still are, no matter what.

I still like you then.

I still like me too.

I just remembered you have longer hair than me.

I know Rei likes it.

That’s gross.

Not everything is a weird innuendo.

I know. I just thought it was funny, and my hair is not that long.

It’s longer than mine.

Yeah, well my hair cooler so it’s longer.

So not going to lie, because that would be stupid. I am terrified right now, because I don’t want to lose my friend.

It still works. I can still hear you, and thank you. You rule

This is awesome, mini-panic attack over.

Thank you for saving my life.

Thank you for saving mine.

I am so psyched.

Me too.

Which one of us is which?

Does it matter?

I forgot.

How’s Rei? Okay, now I know which one I am. This is insane.

I like it, and she is fine, my daughter is in the next room with her and she sees how happy I am, so I am hoping that sets a good example and all that jazz.

I am watching my mom’s fire place, how is Misery?

I don’t know if its the same place anymore? It looks like… someone turned the lights on?

There was no light there?

No everything was black and white.

Hahaha. That sucks.

Yeah you are a jerk.

I know, I am sorry, I thought if you thought I didn’t need you… you would go away.

I am you, stupid.

I thought I wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore.

I am right here, jerk.

We go, as we always do, as if we are running from something. I do not know if this is just a feeling or if it is a truth, or if it is something false that lurks in me. I feel as though I am running from something constantly. I wonder what it means. It sometimes feel like I have abandoned a person with that name, a person named Joy, who I do not know, and I don’t why. I know the meaning of the word and it is simple enough to think that I abandoned like a crashing wreck the idea of joy itself. I understand that enough, but I do not think that is it. I keep having this digging feeling in my soul that I have abandoned, like a mother who has a lost or given up child a daughter named Joy.

I even if I close my eyes sometimes feel like I can see her, if I shut my eyes and pay attention very closely, I feel like I can see the blurry outline of this person who should have been so close to my heart right? That would be the way that someone would feel about a child right?

I can only think, that there is some person that was an idea abandoned, somehow….. I haven’t ever told anyone about this, and Damien speaks of nothing like this, but he is a fool, who knows nothing, but stroking his own fragile ego.