I spit green fire. I am beautiful. I am a super human, born of strength.

Is that supposed to be me? Loser.. it doesn’t look like me or anyone we know..

I painted you in a way you hate.

This isn’t even painted, it is a digital image re-touch thing.

Don’t you hate stupidity??

Yes.

Double win.

You have nothing of mine, because you do not need it, you are so divine, need no refining touch, so I painted you badly, sadly, tragically so, I love you, though I don’t know you, never will, so sad, too bad, my sweet princess, we will never go to the far below, because I am trying to get over…

Over and over and over, up and out of the of the Hell, that is life without, anyone but me, I do not…

Yes, you do liar.

I am.

I know this, that is why I said it.

We are doing the same thing we used to do at the bar, but this time we are alone, without other people doing it too, and without alcohol or drugs… how does it feel?

Like I am cutting myself off at the knees, but I kind of like it?

Good… me too.

I wonder if this will ever get better…

I don’t think it can get worse than this, so I think we will either die, or it will get better… or it will stay just this bad forever and ever…

How bad is this?

I don’t know, it has always been this… so how bad is it really?

I am still alive? I guess that means it is okay enough…

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Romance with Unreal, addict addicted to the act of do not feel

I am looking at the lights, and I swear, that if I think about it, they become brighter. I am not sure why. I am not sure if it is as simple as I am opening my eyes more, and in some paranoid delusion I think I am manipulating light.

I am walking, in a memory, not now, obviously right now I am typing to you, whoever you are.

I am walking, forward, very conscious of it being forward to something, I have no had anything to drink, I mean water in seven days.

I think this is how long it was, not sure, I am begining to suffer the effects of extreme dehydration, falling into a lunacy unlike anything I have ever known, which is unfortunate because it is making it impossible to get water, and it’s funny, no matter how much I make a fool of myself, no one calls an ambulance either, or maybe they do and this was not as long as I thought it was and I am experiencing a false memory where time is relative to my idea of how much I suffered.

Hell

A man with a hose in his yard saves me, giving me a gallon jug of water and some food, I asked the universe out loud for this, I am not sure how long it took to answer, like I said, I am not sure how long this whole process took, I think I might of been in a state of madness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I forget sometimes, that I have glasses, getting up in the middle of the night and crashing into walls because I did not put them on. I walk without them frequently and cannot see clearly, because I have gone without them before, for years when in active addiction.

The eyes of others, guide me, but I am paranoid, debating internally with universe, I question intention constantly, seeing things they don’t and debating with myself what is real while they are just walking down a street undisturbed, knowing none of what I am doing in my mind, while they walk peacefully next to me.

I clean my lenses, real glasses not metaphoric often, caught in an OCD futility of see clearly, forgetting that I see things others do not, and I am left to wonder, am I noticing things that matter or do they only matter to me?

You have no idea how it is to be in the bathroom without looking in the mirror, most of the time, I would just shut my freakin’ eyes, which is a pain in the ***, and led to many injuries that were not about being intoxicated, but a lunatic, that had gotten sick of cutting my hands on punching out glass mirrors. I have never looked like myself, in reality or in Misery, I have always looked different, and I would do anything to get rid of my own reflection, even attempt to rip out my own eye, which is why I never touch my eyes. I am still afraid to touch them because of PTSD from one time I tried to rip out my own eye.

I was tripping and unaware of the distinction between reality and dream, I had been awake for days rolling on dxm, and had taken some acid and was either over tired or I don’t and became overcome by the idea that I could do anything I wanted with my hands.. like rip out my own eye, because that is what you would want to do if you realize you are free to do anything you want… I am insane… getting better though… at least this doesn’t happen anymore… small steps.

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

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

Later.