Category Archives: collage

“see title 02”

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“Detective Drunk”

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see title

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Dune

Something appeared today in Grasslands. Sand… dunes to be more precise.

And a castle on top of perhaps the highest and sandiest one.

It has a ring to it.


“Twisted”

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Heathen


Casey Memorial

Teebestia sits on the southern edge of Olde Lapara Towne, just beyond the Magill House, and looks out from whence she came: the Atoll Sea. Will she return now to life beneath the waves? “There’s always Story Room,” she says to herself, trying to stay. Teebestia ponders some more. “Yes, I’ll go in that direction next.”

“So long for now, Omikron City.”

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Danny’s Magical Room

“Everybody in town will die now, Danny. They’ll all come here.”

“Cool. Where’s James Dean?”

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Lambs

Teebestia kindly and graciously led him to the correct entrance for The Underground in the Lapara part of town, not Astarte. In the process of crossing from the latter sim to the former, Paul became a black man again much to the astonishment of the lawyer lady, but definitely still American. “Water,” he states, standing before the portal. “I wonder why they decided to drown The Underground. Did they want to drowned out *us*? Our voices?” He was considerably more lucid now because of the changeover. It is easier getting away with being high when you’re white than black. Prison awaits for many of his present hue. “Is this a prison as well?” Paul ponders, thinking along the same lines. He lets the dark waters take him once more.

A faster moving train trolley soon comes up from behind and then passes through him.

He watches as it continues rattling down the tracks. When he reaches the main underground station the stopped trolley is still there, but, as usual, with no passengers getting on or off. Yes, in the main this is a ghost train, like Second Lyfe has been ghosted overall. Including Collagesity. Only the Linden wood saves that similarly aged berg from complete extinction, a life support. Here it seems to be something else.

Paul decides to hop on board the train to take a look inside but quickly stands up and exits after it begins moving again. He had been warned by his faith long ago not to ride the fun fun trolley into The Void looming directly ahead — or anywhere else for that matter. “Walking is the light, the way,” the holey book says. “Worship not the road nor the rail but the path itself, always expanding always contracting. This is the path of the heart.”

He thinks back to Teebestia with the exposed heart in The Above now, already far north of here in his mind. *She* led me to the correct path this time. She is a manifestation of spirit.

And then he found another gift on the people-less platform as he walked back to rest his heart a bit. Another tale.

“Grassland,” he said, looking at the cover. “The story of Grassland!”

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