She refused to give up her 88s when she took the role. She refused to wear proper women’s clothing when she came into the meeting room. She refused to not smoke, not drink. She’ll be like any other man here. And more. She’ll join the circle of the general council if she wishes: doesn’t want to bother with it today. Look at them, she thinks while peered over the top of her newspaper, giving all the latest in fabled Storybrook, still a thing despite being destroyed almost 3 1/2 years back in this here blog’s timeline. She can get more information from this instead of listening to those asses heeing and hawing over there about the same. Remove the apple and you reveal the key. Storybrook continues (!).
Category Archives: 0214
00380214
“Is it really you, Mother?” he called from across the court. “Alive and in the flesh again?” Ted, aka Stitches, couldn’t believe his ever-wide peepers.
“Come to Mama,” she said to this, and he flew into her open arms, micronized in a flash. Microcosm. She had a subject after all.
And a new character. Ratcatcher of the Fracture. *Not* the Fissure. She extended the story backwards and forwards to give it solidity. Two caught rats in a backpack cage — *not* pets, even though she’d given them names by now: Billy and Corgan. Story about that too. “Pumpkintwisters.” And, come to think of it, two more subjects I suppose, if she wishes.
Noise from the “cafe”. Two people she’d missed before, making a plan Stitches told her in her mind. She couldn’t make out the conversation herself but she knew the ever-aware, lime green teddy would give details later if she’d just hold her position without being disturbed. Physically, not mentally, because it was too late for the latter. Better add another scar or three and maybe the same with the rats, she thought, looking at what was coming her way. Al and John the Mind Reader (aka Jed aka Incognito we think) were only the first to arrive. Weekly meeting of the Last Drop Gossipers we have here. Including long forgotten Jackson Bloch, no kin to Baker. And apparently Ted numbered among them too. How could she explain the micronization? Was that even a word?
“Don’t worry,” she heard him say, still one through it all. “They can’t see you while I’m with you. Just sit over there in the center and *listen*. Takes two to know.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0214, The Waste+
108/108/108
“Just staring at a bamboo wall in Perch-Mistletoe. How about you?”
Reply.
“Amazon, eh?”
Reply.
“Oh. *Amagon*.”
Reply.
“Seaweed, huh?”
Reply.
“Well, sounds pretty. Bracket with you?”
—–
It was the last person he suspected while being the first person he suspected, Big Loop completed. Hucka Doobie.
“Triangle of lights,” he said, looking on. Fully a man now, transfer complete.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0214, Nautilus, NORTH, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra
00350214
She tried to get back to the center of Linesville (ORACLE term) but instead landed here, a new place apparently. No more blue highlighted boulder but the location was still certainly blue, like Aunt Esther’s offstage act as Page. She had a new outfit that she just tried out here to success — suspenders — colored such, reinforcing the situation. She’d taken to buying men’s clothing because the women’s stuff didn’t seem to fit her. Darn weight gain during COVID times! But new lover Lemont Sanford, also offstage, didn’t seem to mind. They had a common goal. The creation and then overseeing of Liz — destiny. They were having fun with it on the dark side, opposite of what most consider The Cross to be. Yes, The Cross needs to be in the center of Life, the middle of the passage between cradle and grave. But this is certainly not what The Preacher envisioned. Or did he? (we’re similar in other ways — like the *ORACLE*)
This is the middle now. Is the wedding with George actually off, though? Despite this new, erm, complication? She keeps staring out as if trying to find the answers in the great beyond, past the buildings in the distance, past this Life itself.
She contemplates buying some weights or joining a gym to bulk up her upper body, because that’s where the fitting is looser on the new garb. Waist and hips — perfect. COVID, pheh. The changes it wrought seem to lie around every corner. People must adapt to the times or else be lost. Lemont is helping.
“It looks great, baby, don’t change a thing,” he said just yesterday here. She stares out again. Where *is* my costar in this film?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0035, 0214, Omega, The Cross
Tesnus
The Wither Tree comes for all, even clockwork people like Billy, a native Iowan and thus a long way from home indeed. A rocketship brought him to the Jeogeot continent. *Not* a well pump, as some of those fantasical forest people claim. That’s just the sugar talking, as they like to say.
Safe over here directly west off Mainland, though. “I think I’ll stay,” he says into the Korean Channel reverse sunset, Ichelus at the point here, but Zebrasil and the continent’s infocenter just behind. This is where he landed; this is his original, virtual home. Before vacationing Sugar gathered up his little, cute robot body and took him to the woods, made him a kind of pet. Fate, she deemed it. “The red and the green!” she exclaimed to thong-less (daring!) companion Donald at the time while looking down at the two-toned inner tube (“TIT”, *giggle*), also a type of pet for her. Trouble is, he’s so sleepy there all the time. Dreams the horrible, scary dreams even in daylight. *Especially* daylight (thanks again, Mistress!).
Then: the Waterfall of 10000 Lions (good one, Mistress!) comes to Big Woods, washing away the gloom, at least enough to allow the mechanical boy to return and not be riddled with cryptic, undecipherable nightmares and, especially, daymares. Maybe.
07:15: Sugar and Donald, humming a happy tune, rustle up some more of those breakfast special blueberry choco chip pancakes for arriving guests. 4 waiting. Maybe up to 8 later. Breakfast at 8.
She tests one, makes a sour face. “Donald, more sweetener on the next batch please.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t make me GRROWL at you,” she joked.
“I won’t,” he said, pulling up his baggy pants. She’d stretched them almost to the verge of unwearability. And perhaps that was the point (*titter*).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0214, Big Woods, Jeogeot
Dairocha again (missing)
“I don’t understand, Wheeler. The library simply… *disappeared*.” Mainly. A couple of books left, but –”
“Quiet,” Wheeler demanded, who had turned into Alysha in anticipation of the event. Crestfallen! Yet she was determined to try. She thought the air felt a little different just over… there.
There!
“Am I holding anything, Baker B.?” she queried expectantly, palms getting sweaty even.
“Not a thing.”
“Rats!”
“Wait. Lemme try a little brighter light just to be sure.
“Still nothing.”
“F-ck.”
00320214
A triangle of rocks before Fern Wall, before reaching the Delta, even further before the Mystery Cave, as we’ll still call it. I had the impression that 3 “tribes” meet here to talk of differences and similarities. Some kind of wood entities I’m talking about here. Just up the path from another rock I call Guidance which marks the boundary between known and unknown for most. Not me, though. Not any more. I’ve gotten *that* far.

Deeper into what most still call the Unknown but which I’m dubbing Newfound Lands. That tent on the Delta owned by Erik or Erik’s son, who knows Stan who knows Jim who knows Tom. Interesting colors — blue and yellow. 2 colors which are on a lot of people’s minds these days. And Baker Bloch last night purchased a freebie blue and yellow tent in the game that is Our Second Lyfe, along with a similarly 2 toned balloon and, let’s see, I think I got a Ukrainian sleeping bag as well in the deals. A lot of the world — and the unknown — is about coordination of symbols through space and time. Maybe all of it. Whatever we call him (or her), this Erik *did* camp at the relatively remote Delta and left his tent behind as a marker. I just happen to find it during a conflict between Ukraine and a bullying neighbor, cities and towns left in shambles just like this tent. The Delta represents an obvious center to my Newfound Lands and one I’ll keep going back to for more symbol gathering I’m sure. Most likely.

Mystery Cave now, perched high on a cliff above Delta. To my surprise a bit, there’s an actual opening here that, oh say a man (or woman) just shorter than high grass could amble through without stooping his (or her) head. Just saying. Really, it was a remarkable crevasse — again I’ll come back to it soon with more pics and stories. This little person who went inside the mouth — name was Carter, like our Biff. We have that much.
At Mystery Cave looking down on the Delta. You can see almost its whole triangular surface from this pic, River to left, South Branch at top, and then North Branch just hidden by the downslope in the foreground. Branch (feeding both North and South at western point of the triad) just off picture to the right. Another glorious day in the mtns. by the way, with temps in the lower to mid 60s. Again this is a pretty remote location. Quiet except for the highway about two miles off to the south. I’m so curious about the Delta camper now, but all I have are symbols and signs. No way to know who it actually is, and perhaps that’s the point. Filling in the picture of the unknowable.
And I’ve saved the best for last: more photos of that Monolith thingie just up the hill from the cave. It’s not quite as big as I expected up front and close, but it’s certainly still Monolith-y with its jutting position, rectangular appearance, and thin depth. I still believe it’s, let’s say, “man-made”. More on that soon too.
Filed under *REALITY, 0032, 0214, Blue Mountain, Country Park
Pitt Stop
Her lawn looks like a meadow
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne’s lace!
“The car wanted to live. The car wanted to *stay*.”
“Great, W. Can I call you W. still?”
“I am the two within the one, the complex within the simple. Look for me. Balance.”
“O-kay.”
“Continue, then.”
“*You* continue.”
—–
“We are in the car. We are the rib, the singular, heading to the complex, the duality. Eve. Adam from. 2 in 1. 2 brained.”
“And what does that mean?”
“We have to stick to the simple.”
“But we are heading to the double. Double heads.”
“No (!).”
“Yes.” Simpler. Smaller. No exclamation point; no capital letters. Just acceptance. 2n1.
“What about left leaning?” I grasped, trying not to Fall.
—–
Flipping to the Orient, I knew this was about me, then. The red green blue yellow “tiles” in the back were me. The colorless, X-ed out head openings (“hello!”) of the Zebra are me, ready to reveal themselves in the move away from occident. Me. Sozzy Bozo has a mask over his eyes — similar. It should be over his mouth. Point made.
—–
I had to incarnate again soon, before the dawn’s early light at least. Else the night would be “wasted.” I decide a variety of photos would do the trick. Presenting: Snapshots from the East.
This was a kind of creepy one. Glimpse into the Abyss, brr. So cold.
Then lightening up as the red green blue yellow return. Goal carts! (red starts)
Traveling further back, 2 toys mark the entrance to a passage, perhaps of life itself. Ur-state. One toy, the blue one, did not “evolve” past the second. Both remained simple. We are onto something. Not dodging an issue no more.
We are now even before the start of the race out back. Orange appears across from the green, from the blue. Out of place. King Bill. He is whole. He is *orange*. Here is where we should have started. And so I placed myself there, before the beginning. Let’s try again.






























