Weaving the Fabric of Reality, Part Two…

We first met when I was four, the Devil and I. I heard his voice so I looked up and saw his face peering through the hole in the floor. He had a familiar face, along with a wonted and gracious look in his eye.

Thinking back, I can recall seeing his face before, although, it wasn’t his head that was peeking through a hole and that hole wasn’t on the floor.

I make mention of his eye because this was our SOUL means of communication in the beginning. Everything was said by the way of THUNDEROUS GLARES all the way to soft inviting peers. Mischievous winks from both sides of reality meant to acknowledge that it was understood what was to happen when I died when I was finally dead.

How was I expected to live a life filled with anything other than dread? How were my eyes supposed to see anything unless it was projected in red?

Pure evil, the Devil himself. Nefarious, flagitious, villainous, vicious, inquitious—>He is the original Sophist of them all-of IT ALL!!!! He drinks from the cesspool of broken dreams! It is music to his ears, my SCREAMS!

The very ones I cried to, those to whom I confessed these nightmarish experiences, yeah them, were the very ones who told the Devil how to get me out of that hole I lived in, remember, that one I dug in the floor under my bed?!

The ones I once thought were responsible for opening the gate on my cage only stared in at me and filled me with FUCKING RAGE…

To be continued….

To those of you out there in the grip, I hope. We do recover! Look around! Let me in or let me down! I am Jay and I am an addict! Stay up. Stay human too! I love you and you matter to me!


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