Had the day off today, had one goal, which was to just get absolutely ripped high. I did, in high style. I once again spent all my extra cash on dope, which wasn’t much this week because last payday I trimmed so many of my other bills. They were unavoidable this time around. I went broke really quickly this week. I’ve got Becky coming down, and now I need to sell my vicodin just to have some cash to spend with her. I really hope that I can!
Spent a lot of good time with April today. She was pill-hunting with me while also cashing our pay checks. We bumped into one of her friends and got a bowl of really good weed. I got so stoned! Haven’t been that stoned in a long time! Just riding around in the Riviera, no care in the world. I haven’t even thought about probation lately. I probably should give Linda a call. I’ve been having some nightmares lately, about losing my room, about going to jail for five days, all kinds of stuff–I thing the methadone is giving me these bad nightmares!
Intake: 45 mg methadone, oral, smoked
(Have you ever had dreams/nightmares that are somewhat real, seem real, come true in the end? Matt had a strange connection with the ‘other’. As I am publishing the most personal and unbelievable stuff to most people, might as well tell all as this whole business is quite offensive to many and quite sweet to those few, and so sweet you are to me. Therefore, I might as well tell those things that will curl lips and flip hands off extended arms; I might as well turn heads. Matt’s journals receive likes, yes. Those who like Matt’s writings like the truth, naked as it is. Thankfully, these journals do not receive the reciprocal likes; those that didn’t read more than a paragraph and hit a button to get their button pushed as a pay back. Such vanity. Those few never even read it as most who really do happen upon this really don’t like it much at all. I can’t blame them as this is not about kittens being cute and a trip to an island paradise. This is about the opposite of paradise, Earth and being truly human and naked. This is about the real you inside us all. This is a stench and a reminder of our own failings, our own dirty humanness. Ever read anything by Swift? Being human is dealing with our own excrement, after all. No pictures of poop on blogs. God said that the gospel is a stench to those that are dying: “To the one we are the fragrance of death unto death; and to the other the fragrance of life unto life. And who is sufficient for these things?” Reading the journals of a dead man, of a dead sinner, is a bit morbid for most, a bit easy to judge for many, and a bit prophetic for all–as we are all going to die, for sure, only way out. I find that death is a strange swear-word, a taboo, a reality that is unreal to most Americans.
Having lived in several foreign countries after growing up American, I was surprised that death was a warm conversation and a family friend to others. Mexico had to be number one on the list, Italy number two, and Spain number three. These people not only spoke with an unabandoned freedom concerning death, but also enjoyed these conversations as if stepping into heaven. They even displayed death for all in full-dress-uniform. I paraded by many a corpse while there–museums, churches with glass caskets, mummies, the newly deceased along road-sides (no sheets and layed like cord-wood for the passersby), and in front-page news with detached-heads along train tracks and all. They viewed death as part of life and sung to it as a young girl sings to her husband to come, though of a young age. They fantasized about the next life and the end of this one. They dreamed of death with a wantonness. As an American I was insulted. Such disrespect for such a private thing. Death was like sex– it shouldn’t be viewed or spoken of in polite company. Death was a thing of dreams, fantasies.
Matt had dreams. These dreams were real waking dreams followed by another waking dream. Once, I remember so clearly, I had a nightmare: my daughter was at the end of my bed in her toddler bed and a TV was positioned beyond. In my dream I was awakened to watch the TV. It was all fuzz, but a voice came out taunting me. Then a face appeared but it was without light, like opposite of light. I awoke again and walked the house to secure things and was met with the darkness of the TV in a man walking my house. In a scream I again awoke and went to my daughter with my hand. She was quiet, so I lay down again. Not minutes later she thrashed in her bed and called out in terror. So, I lay my hand on her and prayed to Jesus. She quieted. Moments later Matthew called out incoherent, dreamy rants while thrashing. I prayed again till all quieted and I fell back to sleep. The night was full of darkness.
Upon waking and making morning coffee I asked my young son how he slept, not thinking my terrors were even shared here on Earth. Well, he told the most soul-drying story I have ever heard, and I have heard few. According to Matt he had a nightmare about a dark man and awoke to walk the house for water, so he went to the kitchen. As he walked he heard a voice from outside calling to him. As he looked toward the direction of the voices the outside world was dark. However, we had those horizontal blinds, cheap ones my grandma hung years before. I had them half closed. As he explained it he described a form outside, like a man, but his eyes were absolute darkness as if they sucked in the light. As Matt passed by the five windows in the living room, this dark man said things to Matt. The only thing I remember Matt telling me was him calling Matt “Mr. Lonely” and taunting him saying that he knew him. There were other things, but I just can’t remember. I do remember that it hurt Matt deeply, made him feel very bad about who he was.
Another interesting thing about this dream Matt explained was about the darkness. He said that it shone through the blinds on the floor, sort of like light does. He said he could see the darkness like we see light coming through on a sunny day. He even said he responded to the darkness, but I can’t remember what he said. It was just so very weird that I didn’t want to spend time holding it in my head. I do remember quite clearly how the conversation ended though. We compared our dreams of the night past and were both quite perplexed as we had both dreamed, awoke to a second nightmare in vivid detail, and awoke a second time. When Matt thought he was walking to the kitchen he was actually still dreaming. He awoke with great difficulty and lay in bed till morning afraid to go to sleep again.
Before he died he told me of other dreams he had, in absolute solemn seriousness. He also told me dreams he had while in jail–he spoke in these dreams to deceased loved ones. They spoke of what would happen to him, and these things did happen as the dream foretold. As the dream he is describing here, he did spend 5 days in jail, after which he died in several weeks.
I am not sure why I am even telling this to this computer. I am not sure why I dare to type this. Warnings against typing or speaking about this are everywhere, just everywhere. People are terrified to tell of these accounts as they say it gives Darkness more power. So, I ask God, the Lord, Jesus, Father, Holy Spirit to protect me and my family from attacks for saying this, saying the truth. God save me and us all. Darkness is real. I tell you, it is.
I am not sure about wanting to be in charge of everything, knowing everything, figuring all out, comprehending all things. Science promises us that, and refutes the existence of other dimensions, other worlds… However, Science said that margarine was good for me, that DDT would make the world better and that certain chemicals would help our pain. None of this was true. Science claims to have it all figured out, and without a video or a dead body we should not believe. However, I believe in the face of Science. I believe in the after world, I believe that good and evil are both there and both locked in combat. I believe that demons are real, very real. If you also believe they are, please give me support in telling this story and thanks. I have been hesitating to push that darn publish button for hours. I may just decide to delete this part.
In a few days it will be two years Matt is gone. So, thanks for reading the truth, even though I am still afaid to give names. It just feels good to tell the truth. I hope others will tell their stories and the truth. I would appreciate reading them. However, I imagine I will be quite unpopular for talking about ‘the darkness’. And, I do apoligize as I do not want to give it any more power than it already has. Like Matt, the only secrets I can’t keep are my own. Again, sorry if I creeped you out, but I just really need to tell this and am not sure why.