Category Archives: MAPS

May 29, 2021 · 9:59 am

Abyss, The

“A boy 13 to 10 and back to 13 and over and over. Obviously this is TILE, W.”

“(Small) ‘e’ to (large) ‘E’,” she agreed. “5 to 8, gaining 3. Years in this case.”

“Yellow to blue.” He looked out at the sky, the suns rising over the horizon. Horizings.

“But what of the step-down?” she continued in this vein. “The 12, then the 11, back to 10 and then back to 13, over and over?”

“Children according to the TILE documents and creeds. Red and green. Gred. Or Reen.”

“Redgreen. I remember that place. A place of war.”

“7 and 6. Mixed up. Which is higher, which is lower? Confusion in the middle. And by extension…”

“At both ends. Hi becomes lo. Hilo.”

“But one thing we agreed,” he offered as a compromise. “The Abyss plays no role in the end game. Because the Abyss has no real power. Only illusion.”

“Like static.” She squelched the urge to tack on the state names of Tennessee and Kentucky to this. It would all play out.


Tennessee. And Kentucky.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0501, Kentucky, Michigan, Purden/Snowlands, Sansara, Tennessee

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May 23, 2021 · 6:46 am

pondering point

Past the pond and along a path that followed Wine Creek he went until he came to a grove of beech trees. There he built a fire against the side of a log and sat down at the end of the log to think.

Ward George had to escape art but Tennessee was all around, ready to embarrass him and make him turn red (as an apple) at every turn. Through his late night research, he knew about “Flapper” and a promise not fulfilled of artistic success, perhaps the point of it all. He was using his magnifying glass of a brain to focus on sewers and monsters therein and the death of Allen Martin who was actually a Martian (green hair in back giving it away, like a Conrad Bain). He had to find the beech grove, a place of sanctuary.

“Martin is alive,” he’d heard Duncan say while talking about the old days in good ol’ VHC City, before the coming of the… hotel? Anyway, it all started/revolved around that Black Hole of a structure created by Pitch Darkly. 97/97/97: triple number. If only the powers of VHC City back in the days had listened to his warning about the coming of The Diagonal that would link the whole continent, southwest to northeast, so powerful that its rather malevolent energy, or what turned out to be so, had to be counterbalanced by a second sw-ne line called Heart. Heart balances Head, like in a Hand (Health). But it was all suppose to happen like this most likely, George had also determined with his own head. But where, and who, was heart?

“No way out this way,” gruffed Suisan the pyramid shaped hat wearing fish butcher without turning around, bloodied cleaver at rest for now. George would have to turn back out of Kentucky back to Tennessee.

“Kay,” he said simply in response. The smell of chopped fish was overbearing.


Heading home.


“Found it!” he cried.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0407, Heterocera, Tennessee, VHC City

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May 19, 2021 · 5:55 am

time barrier (morning to evening)

“These are powerful people,” spoke Buster in my head. “They control *portals*. Portals between realities. And once you cross the line you may not know which is which.” Wise words from a small vampire man, still living in VHC City near Duncan for all I know. Still frequenting that bakery where Duncan was inducted into Pot-D, until the cursed, bloody Yelloo sun comes up at least. Give him the light and dark side of the moon any time. Give him money procured from criminal actions deep in darkness and shadows. Give him… well, we’ll leave out the third. In fact we’ll chuck the whole dark triad, for Buster Damm is now full of light and goodness, thanks to the blood transfusions combined with the positive energy of Pot-D itself. Yes, the story of our small vampire friend, best buddies with fellow and much larger (or regularly shaped) vampire Pitch Darkly, will have a happy ending. He has his wife Betty now, who can appear tiny, like him, but also larger — to allow the couple freedom to move about in the world of regular joes and josettes — are also born again TILISTS. They’d studied the sinks of Maebaleia and other continents extensively. They’re convinced of the 3d hyperspin of Maebaliea and Jeogeot separate from the rest of Their Second Lyves to create the sinks in the first place. And above and beyond this, roosting on it like a demented OWL… but I’ve said too much here. ROOST is key.

—–

What did Duncan see on the other side of the 300? He observed the observer, almost hidden in a small wood of trees behind a barrel here.

He had dominion over his compact, changeable kingdom-queendom at 200 E Locust, he and his wife. But the wife also observes, 2 1/2 years in the past, an overturned chair on a porch just to the west. The lawn deer’s baby has moved back into its womb. Stars appear.


May 2018


Dec 2015

And a blue sphere moves from one side of a small garden space to the other to emphasize its importance. I think we know what *this* means.

Better shot of the observer.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0316, Eveningwood, Google Street View, Illinois, Lower Austra, Nautilus

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May 16, 2021 · 8:18 am

evening out 02

“Smoke?” he asked while peering through the window in the door in the Wall at himself. Marty declined, saying he’ll have a fag later.

“Strange expression over here,” Roger Pine Ridge responded to this. “Means something else in these States of Their US of America.”

“Give me Kentucky and Tennessee and throw away all the rest,” Marty joked, again weakly. If only he would do this kind of thing weekly instead of daily, hourly even. He checks the minutes of their last meeting last month. Then wife Linda had penned it down to the seconds. 17:11: talk about America; 17:32: switch to Marty weakly joking about a trip to Armenia which no one understands, no one laughs at, except Marty but only weakly as was appropriate; 17:51: rest hand because of cramp.

“I’m glad you decided to be my friend,” Roger exclaims, smoke bellowing from his mouth like a small train. “Makes it easier to meet. I send you an invite; you accept. Remember, heh, the last time? Remember how much money you wasted taking that plane to Borneo?”

“It wasn’t Borneo,” replied Marty, cooled off now. “But, yeah, I get the point. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you before. It’s just the whole…”

“Brain damage thing?” Roger guessed, thinking about the other Roger, the one Marty might or might not have himself invented/created and then forgot about, like a demented God.

—–

17 minutes and 11 seconds later, they drew even on a particular topic of some interest to them, perhaps to others as well. Now that the moon has been successfully swallowed by the sun again. It blared brightly in the sky like a loco bugle, sending not smoke up, although it was burning too, but rays. Rays of warmth. Roger Pine Ridge felt his lips getting hot. He had burned his special cigarette to a nub and forgot to uninsert.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0311, Jeogeot, Kentucky, NWES Island, Tennessee

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May 13, 2021 · 7:14 am

cross plains

Duncan pauses in his examination of Eveningwood. 300 address at the western edge of town: where had he seen this before? And a “ROOST – Jasper Landing TALL Fence” over there — interesting.

Duncan would keep going, but he would never return to Our Second Lyfe as he crosses the boundary between real and imaginary on the other side of the 300. Virtual I meant there. Real and virtual. He was a black man inside the sphere; he never knew what hit him.

“Oh *I* see. Field *on*. As in some kind of activated force field.”

“Spherical in nature,” he added.

But who were these people inside this darkened cinema on the edge of realities? They stare into the screen as if a window.

(to be continued)

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May 3, 2021 · 6:28 am

grid patterns

Kolya truly loved Hidi but could only touch and hold her in his dreams. There he called her “my unicorn” — that could be an alternate title of this post. The shower had yet to be installed at the uncompleted bathroom down toward the bay area in the dreamscape, but at this tree they’d set up duplicate poseballs in the meantime. It wasn’t ideal. Most times they just pass through each other, like tonight. There was no water, thus they remained dirty, or attempted to be. He called her a bad kitten and had to be punished. She laughed — that smile again. Always the smile. She took the tomfoolery good naturedly. It was all play in the land of dreams.

Reality reared its ugly head again. Kolya was sitting apart from Hidi in the train, who had also nodded off then woke up. They were having the same dream in fact. And where was Sam Jerry, her real part-time lover? Husband Axis had been left behind in NWES City, where he ran a brothel for cows. The other Jerry, who also goes by Harry and even more commonly Norris, had decided to become tiny again and look for his old home in Rose Heaven. He planned to go back to composing but slow it the hell down this time, one tri-chord per 2 seconds at most.

So they pondered about each other in awkward silence. In another dream, Kolya, and probably Hidi along with him as he thought he recalled, took the train all the way to Picturetown. “Where the hell is Picturetown?” he remembered asking a jogger on stilts in Toronto.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0204, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Omega, Wallytown/Fishers Island

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May 3, 2021 · 6:28 am

No Toronto

“What was that destination again, sir?”

“Picturetown,” Kolya answered for Cpt. Margret Coffee. “Thanks for the coffee, Margret, by the way.” (*sip*)

“Call me Captain,” requested Margret, ready to sail the ship, as they say, after her stint at baggage check-in was over.

“Yes ma’am,” Kolya dutifully replied, a Marine brat as a youth and thus use to accepting orders.

“Ginger, you got anything yet?” asked Cpt. Coffee to the receptionist by her side, just back from medical leave for a face replacement.

“No, I’m afraid not. How about Toronto?” she offers. “*Very* popular destination. I’m betting you’ll like it there.”

“It has to be Picturetown,” insisted Kolya, off on one of his tangent tasks. “Try Prince Edward Island.”

“Ahh,” jumped in Cpt. Margret Coffee again. “A beautiful province. Setting for ‘Anne of Green Gables’, you know. You’ll *love* it there.”

“No, not that one, the other one, the other Prince Edward.” Kolya scratches his holey head, at a loss for words beyond this.

“The other Prince Edward… oh you mean the *county*.” Margret had figured that part out. “And *Picton*.” Margret had figured the other part out.

“Picturetown, yes.” Kolya could not pronounce it any other way, no matter how hard he tried to conform. Picturetown it is.

—–

The plane went down somewhere between Otterville and Delhi. That’s how Kolya met the red complexioned Indian fellow named Sam. Sorry: Jerry. He was wearing a lime colored shirt while jogging past a collapsed garage. He also owned a lime hued X 1/9, and stated this route to Delhi was much too dangerous to attempt it by car — too many right angle turns, too much distracting graffiti, especially down at the Indian Lake Creek Bridge, he said. He preferred running it. But he was all up for a lift when spotting the collapsed garage and Kolya just happened to drive by, asking for directions. “Which way does a bird fly to get to Picturetown around here?” he called through the rolled down window, just in time for Jerry to catch it since he was quickly losing steam. He had reached the end of his jogging days. “I’ll show you,” and he sprinted one last time around the side of the car and got in beside Kolya. Soon he had taken the driver’s wheel. The train tracks on the other side of Delhi beckoned. They were going beyond the before.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0026, 0203, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Lower Austra, Nautilus

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May 2, 2021 · 9:34 am

00260117

The lime colored jogger man was running fast past the collapsed garage, as he should. I checked streetview history. The structure was intact as of 3 years ago. Was it a sign from the missing plane? Looking at the turned around car, there seemed to be a message about coming and going, and the past which is the future, Janus faced again. Disaster and recovery.

I moved past the jogger who was rapidly going backwards. I decided to shoot him a bird (like Superman), just to see his reaction. Then I realized his open mouthed response happened before the raised finger. I would get no real answers from anyone along this highway all the way up to India. I instead had to find a side road, a place of reset. Reset? I meant rest. Or did I?

To flip the cards a bit, when I arrived in India, New Delhi first, I realized all the side roads were named after Indian tribes, American confused with Asian (or something), and all off *Indian* Lake Road. And for the life of me I couldn’t find any lake of that name on streetview, the map, a gazetteer — anywhere. Still looking for res(e)t, I passed Comanche, Shawnee, Cherokee, Pawnee without any possibility of a pull over. Peering down at the end of Cherokee I may have seen a spirit but I wasn’t sure — no way to check. And where was my body? Delhi was still waiting ahead of me but my hopes for a resolution to this mystery were quickly dimming. Or diminishing.

When I crossed the train tracks on the other side of Delhi I knew I was done with this leg of my journey. Onward to Section 2!

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May 2, 2021 · 9:34 am

00260116

I figure out which one was Indian Lake Rd. and head up it, bound for, well, India, the secret Petty also wanted. I knew I had to incarnate in a body soon but put it off until I reached my destination. I seem to have memories of a before time, but not of a bug or a bird or anything like that. A flesh and blood person, just like myself. We had crossed into the Sphere which is God in a way, the all knowing and all seeing, like a big eye in the sky. “My unicorn” I observed on the back of a warning sign about a sharp right turn ahead, which I’d just passed through after crossing a bridge. But the “i” was blocked out by the sign post. I suddenly couldn’t see again.

I backed up and started observing again. Yes, I had located Indian Lake Road thank you very much. And “boo” yourself!

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May 2, 2021 · 8:56 am

00250115

I went ground-side to look for the site of the crash, if it was a crash. Jen Saunders insisted that it *wasn’t* a crash, and that all passengers arrived at Delhi, New Delhi and thereabouts intact and with wits still in place. I knew *something* had occurred, some anomaly. I thought back to the movie “Sphere” and the anomaly there, which was a black hole, perhaps an X 1/9 variety. Used car salesman Jonathan Piper insisted it had to be lime colored and not lemon in his early mid-life crisis (according to his wife the esteemed Mrs. Jonathan Studebaker Piper). “Pipe down, son,” he exclaimed while on the phone about it to still yelling Cory, sometimes known as Peter because of the last name and all. It was a mystery, a conundrum, and chef-inspector Petty was here to help solve it. But he seemed more interested to know the whereabouts of the girl with the schweet secret smile than the passenger ship. He wanted to move, in other words, from Lower to Upper Austra, beyond bridging green valley into the beige highland again. In other words, away from Collagesity and its personal sphere of influence (as centered between Highways 13 and 14). Anyway, back to the place indicated by the road. Sign confusion! Indian Lake Road straight ahead and to the right and Airport Road to the right and the left. We appear to be in all places at once without being anywhere atall. Sounds about right.

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