“That picket… fence. Something’s wrong with it.” He continues to stare. “Really *wrong*.” Standing with feet bare in the snow, it was the first time Mr. Gold, Mr. Has Everything, noticed that his perfect world he had created for himself through hard work and supreme effort was breaking down.
The worst was yet to come.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0410, Capital Cy, Washington
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is8N7B9b0GQ
“Alan, it was all just a *dream*,” spoke Michelle directly into my still doubting face. Her breath smelled like flowers so I didn’t mind in that respect. The words spewing out of that same pretty, red lipped mouth, however, stung like bees to every part of my body except the knees. “Here, here,” she implored, pulling out the highway map of Michigan Indiana again and unfolding it before me. “See here? Indiana Dunes. Just like you described dunes west of Hazel which seems to equate directly with our Michigan City.” She then pointed out that Chicago lies to the west of that and what did I say at least a couple of times about that sprawling metropolis, hmm? “You said you wish it had remained a wilderness — that’s how you put it,” she answered herself. “And what is The Hook Wilderness Preserve or whatever on your New Island, huh? A *wilderness*. This would be the place directly overlapping Chicago in our Hazel-Michigan City synchronization.” “That’s a good word for it,” I dare speak up to her, the now red face to sort of match the lips, glaring eyes and flaring nostrils up above that. She’d had enough of fantasy. She wanted to be *grounded*. Wake up, wake up! she seemed to cry over and over. You’re still only dreaming. New Island isn’t real! TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0404, Jerrymap, Michigan, New Island, Newer Island
So what happens on Planet Mythos? You go down down down from the North through a place called The Point of No Return. Something happened there: crucifixion between pillars white and black, Joaquin and Boaz in Tarot terms, Lenoir and Spruce Pine in real geographic terms. Already much has been mentioned about this. James Bruce flipped from Bruce James takes the “documents” to Eoc but this was obviously derived from Enoch — thus Bruce with his Book of Enoch (link). But that’s not who we ultimately focus on. It’s exploring partner Cline not Bruce who becomes the important one for us. They have returned from now fabled Brown Mtn. which equates w/ Venus. The Venus energy is brought to Wazob of Mythos via Cline and his Clineism religion. Or maybe it’s a cult. This balances the Bruceites instead devoted to the writing and beliefs of James Bruce. 2 visions/interpretations of Venus, 2 separate groups of followers. That is the original dichotomy we face with any study of that cursed, dense planet. Prison? Perhaps that too. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0315, Blue Mountain, Boulder, Mythopolis, Wazob
We began our walk to Samantha’s Wild North in early December. It was almost summer, and the days were getting longer and hotter.
The night before we left, Louise had spread out a map on Jamie’s bed. I listened in as they chatted excitedly about our route while we all loaded our backpacks.
The trip to see Roselin is feeling more and more strange.
Let’s back up, see the bigger picture. Shelley walks on the road to Hazel intent on meeting The Man while avoiding a witch. Soo… take a left just ahead up that driveway instead of keeping straight. I *hate* witches, she thinks. That opinion is going to be hard to change. But maybe The Man can help. Probably will.
—–
“Come in come in!” he said enthusiastically while swinging the door wide. “Glad you made it back. Just working on a painting about you, coinkydinkily enough. I call it… ‘Woman in Red’.” They enter the house where he reveals the work almost 96.725% done. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0308, New Island, Newer Island
“So the other one held on to her apple, the chick with the red dress I also saw just earlier. Redd I’ll call her.”
“Redd, huh,” he said back while I was on my back. Couch. Psychiatrist. Clyde.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” They’d talked about a woman named Redd before. Hooker. Backseat. On his back again, getting a b. Just saying what he said.
“What do you think the dropped apple means?” he guides. “Redd holding onto her red one, but the other: butterfingers.”
“Butterfingers, yeah. Just the word *I* was thinking.” They become more in sync with each other as the session goes on. 2:54. This one’s almost over. Not untypical. Now the finish stretch.
“Let’s talk about your book then, Frank Lynn, to close. We have, let’s see (he checks his watch but he doesn’t have an arm, oh well — new one).
“What happened to your *arm*, dawg?” said Frank Lynn, noticing it for the first time since it wasn’t his writing one. Hidden by a writing pad until this new hand gesture revealed it.
“Oh.” He looks down. “Couldn’t bother to screw it on this morning. Just woke up and said, ‘screw it’ to all that… aand we’re down to 5 minutes. Can’t extend because Tom is afterwards. Tom is also a full-timer, in that he completely fills his time with me with words, pages… novels again. Each session is a novel. 4 minutes now; better speak now.”
“Speak speak speak,” says Frank Lynn, getting pretty fed up with the turn. They were soo close! He decides to just start counting down the time. “357… 356… 355.”
“Frank Lynn… please,” mildly scolds the psychiatrist, taking several pills in the gap for his pain. Perhaps the arm, perhaps the army. That shot went directly into the rear instead of the front. Back to front. But he survived to die another day.
“345… 344,” he continued.
“339?” Clyde said after 5 more, pills deep in the gullet now, about to enter the stomach. Then, just like that, they were back on the planet, walking through the tall grass, green and not any other color. Like it could be — out there. Just as it flipped all the cards were over. Tom already had one shoe in the door.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0302, California, GTA, Schrodinger VIIIa, Starfield
Okama DJ-ing in Tamna to the west of Nawt Vaya. Just a rehearsal for his actual job doing such over in Bulls Bar, but the system here, a KOD4 DJ Shard Booth v2 rev.67, is top of the line, probably thanks to the Mouse money coming in. You know who I’m talking about (see background). Okama also finds that most of the time no one is around, and thus he can practice in peace instead of pieces, unlike for often chaotic Bulls Bar. Only wee dancing fairy Silver here and she doesn’t count. At least he thought so… until tonight.
“Why don’t you call your band Silver,” she somehow whispered over the loud music to him, he with his giant ear of listening activated. “After me.” Silver, he pondered later upon teleporting back to his Kidd Tower home on Nawt Vaya Free State land, dripping sweat from all the bouncing around per usual. He’d bring the idea up to Shelley tomorrow. Which reminds me (swing).
He wants to take control of the girl.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0210, Bull's Bar, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
“I’m scrapping the whole idea!” raged Biff Carter one night after a particularly bad rehearsal for the band. “I’m going to call us — heck — *Runnynose*. Because that’s what we are. A constant drip drip drip of annoyance threatening to dribble down my cheeks if I don’t stop it, PHEH. Where’s my hanky? I want to blow it all away!” He rubs his hand across his face and then picks up the loaded gun on the table beside him but then puts it back. No need to go down that road, he, thankfully, quickly realized. No more mowing down needed. Let tall grass stand. Weedy. Jennifer not Jenny. She lives! At least in his mind, in his dreams. He can also live with that for a while.
“Here,” consoling Shelley said from the side, replacing him in that role. “Take a hit from my white ass stick instead to cool you down.” And she leans over and kisses his cheek while handing it to him, a promise of things to come. At least for Biff. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0113, Jeogeot, Omega, Rodentia 02, The Cross
Jennifer Lane had tragically been mowed down by a bulldozer, perhaps several of ’em. This is an archived photo.
“What are we going to do *now*?” I can hear ear of corn clad Karl bemoan from behind his drum kit in the back. “Everything *hinged* on her growing up and appearing before me and beside Chet over there, replacing his screeching, crow-like vocals with her now mature golden warblings, PHEH. Damn you Charles Anson!” Karl assumed it was long time nemesis and former band videographer Anson who was responsible for the mowing down but longer time band manager Biff Carter corrected him from the side.
“Wasn’t him,” he said plainly.
And why won’t *Chet* weigh in on this tragedy? He just stands there in his new Robo Santa costume to pair with Karl’s own corn related one, lead guitar hanging low off his neck.
—–
“Biff,” Shelley says from above, jiggling his shoulder. “Biff Wendell Carter,” she speaks his full name to fully bring him back to reality on the other side. “Band rehearsal in 5.” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0112, Blue Mountain, Boulder, Jeogeot, Rodentia 02
Picket fences usually go along with good things like moms and apple pie and blue skies but not in this case. GTA San Andreas’ Carl Karl approaches cautiously from below.
“When did that creepy old house get up there on the ridge, Newt?” now black haired Wheeler said over to her sometimes boyfriend, oft times husband on the swing with her. They were just that close, counterparts if not technically soulmates. Since the latter technically doesn’t exist if you’re thinking of things like 1/2 + 1/2 = 1. That’s why they don’t need to get married like Newt desired… again. But Wheeler still wanted to show him the front and the back of it all, just to get that out of the way and allow them to continue on with their virtual lives. Still together. Apart and together as one.
“I don’t know,” answered Newt, looking around the figure of Wheeler beside him to observe something else now. “But someone’s on the porch, about to go inside by the looks of it. Black man.”
“Black man,” echoes Wheeler. It’s as if it just appeared out of nowhere. Like Wheeler’s new hair. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0107, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra
Sunklands 