Tag Archives: W/India^^==

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.

“I found something, W.”

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Silver King revisit

“If we keep focusing on Nautilus I think we’ll be okay, W. The link with Iowa.”

“Successful,” concludes the other. She seemed happy for a change. Or at least happier. Maybe the change of scenery did her good.

—–

“Where to, Hucka? Post, Texas?”

“Next post for sure, ha. Have you peed yet?”

“Forgot, sorry.”

“Get on back in there, then.”

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clean and filthy (reinforcing points (red shoes))

Earlier:

“Thanks for letting me go first, Wheeler. I appreciate it.”

“Outta my way, BLEHHHH. Sorry!”

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the artist dreams (in back)

“Tell me about the tree, W.”

“This is it!”

—–

“Ah, yes. I see: TILE again.”

“Markings.”

“Of the modern?”

—–

Another gallery on Nautilus, W. A new one. Left leaning,” he added, looking at the inworld map.

“This is me.”

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“Redtime Stories”

“I found something, W.”

“I did too (!). You go first.”

“Wellll.” STOP

START “You know how the last photo-novel ended in 256, when Norris, aka Harry finished downloading the entire Red Room, as Casey One Hole entered and saw his own Ass — edness.”

“Yeahhh?”

“I found the continuation. It’s a wormhole.”

“Funny.”

“How?”

“Not hahaha but hmmm… kind of funny.”

“Kind of funny or fully funny, in a hmmm way?”

“Do you want me to continue or not?”


what B., aka Baker Bloch found

“Okay your turn, W.”

“Oh, mine’s nothing in comparison. Really (!).”

“Try me.” Baker Bloch knew they worked better in tandem than separately. She’d found something.

“Okay (!). If you insist.”

“Just put a picture in the blog like I did. In this post.”

“What post?”

“You know what post.”

“I Don’t Know, hahaha.”

“Hmmm.”

“I know. I’m delaying. But for a reason.”

“*Where* did you find this? How about that to begin.”

“Morgan.”

(to be continued)

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missing

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killer

That girl over there, Priscilla Persley thought. How can she stand it? I mean, she’s got *coffee* at least, but: jees.

Claudia Curve turned her back on the “spectacle” as well, instead staring at another pretty Christmas tree and trying to pretend the world was going to be okay.

Rose Schultz stood at attention, knowing this was going to be a busy night for hot beverages. She was armed and ready. Despite the uptick, two should still do the job just fine. If only she’d wore her long sleeve uniform but it was in the wash, brrr. But that wasn’t the spectacle, that wasn’t the one. She couldn’t see it from her angle. Not yet.

Thank Gods the pigs have arrived, thought carver George Wash, tired of trying not to look. More people should arrive soon. Time to get her outta here.

“One Adam One, over.”

“Go ahead Eve Two, over.”

“We have a situation down at the frozen food court. Lady not cooperating with the, ahem, elements… over.”

A pause. “Should we send reinforcements? A coat? Over?”

“Copy that, er, she’s heading… she’s heading over to the hot beverage stand to refill her mug. Everything is going to be okay.”

—–

Upon a tip from Rose, her defense was it was all in the wash. All of it. The pig carver was arrested on the spot.

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Old and White

The wheels in his mind kept spinning. I’m in Dex, he thought rapidly. But in olden days this island, this *town*, was named Avalon according to that map over there on the wall, not too far from (the Isle of) Babylon but also: not too close. A gap between, but Smaller Water instead of Bigger Water. He had to prepare. The past meets the future and it’s not pretty. Pink (or red) does not bode well for a man. He’d been tested. Red it was. The lipstick remained. He could not remove it now, however hard he tried.

“Try again,” W. urged from the side, still just out of sight, of reach. He could only talk to her as if via phone.

She remained black and white as she twirled and whirled, like a rotisserie chicken in the Wild West of Nautilus, he believed, beyond the reach of phone. Hurry up, he thought, rid of the lipstick for now but not for long. This was a battle of Madam and I’m Adam. He turns.

At least Marilyn is here. Sing us that national anthem again, dearest.

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sideways observer (23 23 23 )

—–

“We must change your name from Axis-Windmill,” she spoke from the side, also observing. But me in this case. A 10 now instead of a 9. Good. We return to Squared Root City, she urged. No need to invoke karma in this place again. No need to even mention the name again. The Princess has spoken.

—–

So I go to another 23 23 — but not w/ a 3rd 23 — in a very different sim, but it’s the wrong time (again). Let’s take W.’s suggestion…

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Meat

“F-ing complicated!” he said about the map he stood upon, and all the pins dotting it. Nautilus. The 1st continent. The last continent. Where the Outside gets In.

“Calm down, calm down,” she said from the side, just around the corner. “You know about Marilyn and the alternate national anthem. You know which US of A is peering down into the translucent cube — hypercube, actually — from the Outside. It’s one that has been frozen in time. You have your pattern,” she finalized, looking steady into his eyes now, fully emerged. I couldn’t tell her hair color. I’m going to go with white (for now). I knew this was a 3.16 situation and that a return to Squared Root City was up soon. “Give it some time to mature,” I said, trying to calm myself this go around. Unable to keep stabilized, she receded. I moved forward — past Collagesity. Forward into the past, perhaps.

I start a new folder for my inworld photos and pin it to my Quick access. (photo #) 1950. Here we go!

—–

Ah yes. Starlight.

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