Category Archives: 06

May 14, 2025 · 5:34 am

00460604

Tonight she was trying to teach him to dance but it was rough going because of the big clogs, big body overall. And she couldn’t hold his facial prettiness in place, she found out, soon reverted back to the dead white eyes, the painfully jagged black haircut she discovered him with. She, in essence, couldn’t really make him her own, as in a mirror. He remained independent. And clumsy!

Night strolling Billy Squirrel looks on amused at the awkward action. His chirping laughter was the last straw for Wheeler. “*Okay*”, she said, stopping the “dance” and stepping away from him while Billy blended back into the woods. “Let’s try something else, er, Douglas.” She kept wanting to call him Albert, like the sim she discovered him in, nay, *made* him in — back in time. But also tonight, after the last awkward dance, she found herself simply wanting to refer to him as Monster. My Monster.

“Mu-sic?” Even his voice was gruffer. And she was so close to perfection! At least with the head.

“Music,” complied Wheeler. And he whipped out his guitar, one of them, maybe both of them, and started playing then and there.

(to be continued)

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May 13, 2025 · 9:35 pm

00460603

He’s a god d-mn rock star.

SWITCH. Classical too!

“Toward me now!”

Yeah we’re going to put you on a little boat and take you all over the world you god d-mn rock slash classical star you, observing Wheeler thinks with this angle of him from the porch of Pogo’s General Store, the 1:1 matched parcel of the sim not named Okefenokee North somewhat to her disappointment but just Pogo, period. Bit of a copout, she believes, but things can still be fixed in this End of Time place which keeps modifying and expanding over time despite the name. Good for them! Not like a lot of places in Our Second Lyfe which are, at best, staying the same, or, worse, devolving or simply ceasing to be. She appreciates the persistence of existence, has learned to embrace it in this ever changing virtual world when she finds it.

“Let’s stop with the guitaring and come sit beside me, er, Douglas! I have some more thoughts on your face!”

—–

“Yes, that’s better. The shoes and overall outfit obviously still need some work but this is good for today.” She reaches over and pats his knee. “*Very* good,” and then leans more to give him a kiss on his cheek, tying him with Newt for number of smooches meted out by Wheeler recently. True, Newt’s was on the lips so that counts a bit more, I suppose. And he’s seen the colors too, the red blue yellow green on the back and the orange and purple up front. If lips are like one pink, then we could say he’s up to 7, with Douglas here still sitting at zero. We’ll see if that holds.

(to be continued)

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May 11, 2025 · 1:37 pm

00460602

She was already on her 3rd coffee and 4th Blue Moon single of the day. From her solo period of course. She doesn’t like the Cracks, her old group, nearly as much, prefix them with US, UK or any other country — doesn’t matter. But her solo period, especially after the suicide/murder attempt (another reader’s choice): primo. Pure punk while also somehow remaining pure pop, unholy yet uncannily successful marriage of the two. She takes another sip while she listens to another tasty lick from the guitar of none other than Cary E., soon to be known as Car E. and then just CARE w/ all caps, logical terminus reached on the name transmutation process. Formerly of Sunamai of course, helping out Blue Moon on this particular track called “No More Big Leagues,” a minor hit that kicks off her first solo album “Louisville Cardinals” — playing on the fact that the state of Kentucky contains no actual big league baseball team unlike neighboring Ohio with its Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians and likewise neighbor Missouri with its own double team pairing of St. Louis Cardinals and Kansas City Royals. But believe me, don’t let the name fool you, she imagines saying to her brother Ted, more fond of the Cracks (a Crackhead of course): the album is definitely big leagues, and she then imagines herself laughing at his irritation to this statement of fact. “Johnny Rose Bench” is also a pretty well known love ballad from side two. And of course there’s “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — no one really knows which except Blue Moon herself and she’s not saying.

The old timey dial telephone rings beside her. Probably station manager Marty, she reasons, calling to complain that I’m playing too much Kentucky and to cool it with the Blue Moon. She decides then and there to play the entirety of the the “Louisville Cardinals” album, just not lift the needle off the spinning vinyl record after the first track is done. And maybe play all the rest of her solo work — in order — after that. Take the phone off the hook and just *do* it. She calculates how quickly Marty could get here from Chilbo for the canning.

Can of Worms, yes, she thinks while track 1 ends and track 2 (“St. Louie Blues”) begins. Just like in New York.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0602, Chilbo, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New York, SG Park

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May 11, 2025 · 7:42 am

00460601

“Morro Bay??” Dreaming Frank Lynn was expecting a sign for Paleto Bay but got a surprise, Real Life location intruding in on Virtual here. He suddenly has another important piece of the puzzle. Now to find the Rock.

“There!” he said, seeing it coming into view in the distance after passing a large beach dune. Well… sort of, he thought. Not quite Morro Rock but pretty obviously the duplicate down here. And out there in the bay beyond it: the 4 islands with the, um, bodies. 2 apiece, he knew. A central mystery. 4 islands, 8 bodies. Infinity.

Carolin manifests back at the center.


888 Infinity Lane

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February 8, 2025 · 9:11 am

00450615

He finds himself going backwards, back into Vijlin and reversing from the plane that couldn’t be there, fire still on shoulder…

… but not for too much longer, as he deposits it back on the ground in Echt. Shoulder cool, shoulder cool! Thank the Gods.

Distraction absent, he realized he’d missed something. Not silver (car)…

… not copper.

At Wessem, he hops back into the canal looking for the missing thing, heading for that Ell Bridge separating 8 and 9, he knew. Rail accident; something amiss.  Soon enough he was there, and leapt back up on the bridge with a reverse splooshing sound and out of the canal, back to the rail where he observed it from above, heading southeast to the corner of The Netherlands. A place he’d never reach now. No burn, no burn!

He quickly turns to find the gold car. Waiting.

Backwards talk from the car but he knew what was going on now, and that he had about 10 seconds before it reversed itself off the bridge, back back back to Amsterdam or thereabouts where it came from. Gold found, gold found! he cried within. And jumped in. Time suddenly started to move forward again, Mikie greeting him with the words: “Excellent choice, Philip. Now we can go home.”

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February 8, 2025 · 9:11 am

00450614

“I-I’ve changed my mind , fellows. I shut the door back on the whole thing. There’s nothing but bright, burny fire in there. And — sorry to call you guys stupid before. Seeing that I was the most stupidest one of all.” 6’s and 9’s, he thought. Can’t even tell them apart — worse than Philip on that front.

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February 8, 2025 · 9:10 am

00450613

Inside the fence now, wire cutters successfully employed to fulfill the dream duty needed. Let’s find out what’s in that building.

Definitely the Data Hall, good — the right place. Now to go deeper; more inside.

Internal passageway revealed by pulling this lever? Why not? Must see this through to the end since I’ve gotten this far. Alarm clock not set to go off until 9. 8:45 now. I have a bit of time left. But what’s time in a world like this that time’s forgotten? Not much.

Ahhh! A human! Sliding out from within those banks of computers; almost woke me up 7 minutes too early with his appearance but not quite. He speaks (!):

“Jack Shepherde’s not mad at me is he?” he begins cryptically enough. “I was just looking at the computers to see where all my favorite people went to. It’s been a long time since I read computer works, though, so I can’t figure out how to get their location out of the machine. I think it’s time for me to go home. Thank you for opening the door.”

And with that he glides past me in his slidey way with no steps required and down the passageway I came in through and out the front door as I followed him as best I could. I then went back to the room with the computers but the door was closed again, and immediately when I pulled down the lever like I did before, the alarm went off, RIIIIIING. I awoke in something of a sweat, knowing I didn’t have the information I needed. 9:01. Better get dressed for breakfast. Linda coming over at 9:30. Should take a shower too but it’ll be close. And at any rate, hair will be wet when she arrives because of no time to dry. Wet’s not good. Shower can wait. Slap on some deodorant, brush my teeth, drag a comb across my head and I’m good.

(to be continued)

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February 7, 2025 · 7:32 am

00450612

So we come to the point in our story where we have to ask: Are any of these various lines of seemingly disparate plots and sub-plots connected to some kind of central power source? Or do they all just dead end before reaching any said source? Well, I think Our Second Lyfe or My Second Lyfe still provides the juice to all this in a strong way. It may not be where I’m heading but it’s where I’m from, the photo-novels as a whole originate. So let’s put that in the middle, like a house a toddler or child might crawl or walk out of one day to find a brave new world outside full of fresh mystery and intrigue. After that, he’s kind of finished with the house or at least he thinks he is. Out There becomes the most important, like stepping through a door and leaving an old way of life behind. Crawling to walking to running… and then back to walking and then, finally, crawling (to the grave). So what is *outside*? And what are the levels of outside? When we reach a circle around this center where real cannot be distinguished from virtual, do we stop and take in the view?

Or do we just continue down the summit to the other side? Both I think. Let’s move forward. With wire cutters.

(to be continued)

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February 6, 2025 · 3:43 pm

00450611

An F near the highway outta here. Must stand for Fern. That’s me! And this is my game made for walking and traveling. Since a bus is more likely to be used than any other form of transport, I call it Fernbus. Or Ferncoach; haven’t finalized. Much like the game.

Another F in the same field. Maybe: Finished? As in, finished with this game. Just over there beyond that highway sign actually leading to nowhere, motoring cars falling like lemmings into the void sea just beyond.

A third F. France. *France*?? I playfully exclaim to myself in utter shock. But this was suppose to be the corner to The Netherlands from this here direction of Germany, golly gee whiz. Where’s Vaalserberg that I created this whole game to find Philip Strevor at and maybe Mikie and Frank Lynn along with him? Where’s one of the higher rises in the entire Dutch kingdom and the highest in The Netherlands itself where everything will reach a logical climax?

Oh well, I’ll just have to take a 500 KM trip north on another one of my many game buses to Aachen to recalibrate, maybe take in the Albrecht Durer exhibit celebrating the 500 year anniversary of his visit while I’m there. Wonder if he created the print “Melancholia” when staying in the low lands? No, I think (again, playfully with myself, because I actually knew the dates of everything, the trip, the print, the painting), that would have been pre-1521 and thus before the 1 year trip to Holland. Yes, that’s where he finished “St. Jerome in his Study” instead, one of his most famous paintings as “Melancholia” is to print.

—–

Windmills old and new entering the view. Getting close! Vaalserberg here we come.

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February 6, 2025 · 9:32 am

00450610

Being a poor student at the local public university majoring in psychology, Peter Melanchton often came down here to the roadside ramen shop to get a free hot meal. But he had another reason to sit on this rock and eat his noodles: Shelley Johnston (Johnson?) Struthers, seen here running into that tunnel again. He often daydreamed that she was his girlfriend, and that they would run together through the whole of the Nawt Vaya inland sea, rain or shine.

Today Lexi joined him, and then, after Shelley passed into the tunnel, gave him a good lecture about stalking young girls even though she was actually doing the same here. Hypocrite, then: just wanting to eliminate the competition. Edward was enough. No need for another pretty faced *boy* to enter the picture.

Sufficiently spooked, Peter doubled down on his studies and eventually graduated Summa cum laude from Nawt Vaya State, which means peak of his class. Doing some modelling on the side sufficed to cover the cost of food and amenities after that, no need for free. Too tempting down on that rock overlooking the tunnel entrance. Didn’t want to get a reputation, maybe even attracting the attention of the local police force. All elements of Lexi’s lecture.

—–

Later, Lexi met Philip at the local Slurpies and started bragging about the deed. Philip checked in his red book and saw this had indeed happened but 2 weeks ago. Lexi must have skipped a chapter or two, he figured. He tells her she’s late and that she needs to recalibrate her internal clock. Just then the school bells rang (dong… dong!), signaling graduation of the 2024 class where Peter just gave his Summa cum laude speech. What is happening to time??

(to be continued)

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