Black sheep

"dear diary,

the guys turned up in all black for playing tonight. and they brought a new band member. he was in black, too, so they gave him the name 'black sheep'. and he *does* play the guitar. he knows how to. and does it hard and fast. and isn't very nerdy. and looks quite good. and cracks jokes about sheep. and about music he doesn't like. he said that the music we played, or rather tried to play, was like inspired by uriah sheep, or even britney shears.

i'm a bit worried about this black sheep. the guys think he is cool. (and he is, compared to them.) now, i was planning to be the cool one...

for a brief moment i was about to say i don't know one single britney song. that i've never ever heard one. but I couldn't. i know them by heart. all of them. i have all 25 britney cd's. in duplicates. i go to karaoke bars (there's one in the station) just to sing them, and i'm the last one to leave. i touch myself listening to them. i am born to live britney.

i didn't say so, either.

i'm afraid this may all end in looong guitar solos without the guys complaining.

mia"

Rain

I've come to this place with rain. They have it in other places, too, like in Virtual Africa. But they don't have raining like this. Dark, and quiet. I've only seen rain before, but never felt it. Now I do. I feel it on me, from the way it looks. There must be a hand of Mia in it, too, or i couldn't feel so. Or, rather, a heart of Mia.

I hate admitting it, but I know I'm not complete without her. I'd be just shallow surface. She makes me feel. Through her. Some of these feelings are really scary, as I don't understand them, or out of what they come. Like here, in the Garden of Sorrows, in the rain. It is just a place. It should be a bit boring hanging here, because there is nothing happening, nothing to do. But I don't feel bored. I feel like I have a velvety, dark but colourless thing inside, not heavy, yet not light. Like when I fail to understand or mix in with the other avatars. Being left out. Only, I feel it much more now. And it has that cold tinge that I recognize. That cold sadness that would like to explode out of you, to set you free, but is restrained in a space by far too small. I know this feeling is Mia's.

This is new to me. And strangely, I feel good about sitting here, doing nothing, feeling only her. I'm sad for her, though. I wonder where she's been.

A MESSAGE FROM GOD

GREETINGS.
I HOPE YOU ARE ALL VERY WELL.

EHM, THERE SEEMS TO BE A MISUNDERSTANDING.
QUITE A FUNDAMENTAL ONE.
PROBABLY BECAUSE SERVAL DOESN'T COUNT VERY WELL.
AND MIA DID NOT DO VERY WELL STUDYING RELIGION.
SO LET ME PUT THINGS STRAIGHT.
FOR FUTURE KNOWLEDGE.
FIRST COMES FIRST.
SECOND COMES SECOND.
WHICH IS AFTER.
BUT ABSOLUTELY VERY FIRST WAS I.
SO FIRST COMES SECOND.
AND SECOND COMES THIRD.
WHICH REFERS TO LIVES.
NOT INCLUDING LIMBOS, PURGATORIES, HEAVENS OR HELLS.
THIS SHOULD SET THE ORDER OF CREATIONS RIGHT.
I'M GLAD WE HAVE NOW SORTED THAT ONE OUT.

MAY PEACE AND ENLIGHTENMENT BE BESTOWED UPON YOU.

YOURS, ETC.

In my image

Surrender control to little Serval? Oh, I thought we had sorted that one out already, once and for all. Oh, this is so boring. Oh, well, here we go then.

I created Mia. In my own image. That was 11 September 2007. Which was many days ago. Please refer to previous diary speeches for whatever details you desire on this topic. Mia didn't create me. Obviously, or she would have said in her diary that she created me, and then, but not until then, I would have appeared. Now, it it was the opposite way round. Me first. Then Mia. Me in control.

I wouldn't say I'm in full control of her any more. She does a lot of things I don't intend her to. Like hanging with those sheep guys. Not that I gave her control. She rather stole it. (Saying she generously surrendered it to me...)

I forgive her, though. She says that she needs me, and that I do her good. That's enough for me.

History

"dear diary,

it is now a year since i made my existence known to my little incarnation serval in next life. not that she got it straight away. she stubbornly refused to listen, see and understand. and i think that she still, to some extent, and though she keeps spending the money i give her, refuses to believe that there are humans. i can't really blame her. we all need to be the centre of the universe, don't we? irrespective of whether we're incarnations, humans or gods. if we believe we're mere puppets controlled by someone else, by fate, by something that is written, then why try at all?

maybe i'm contradicting myself now. because i have tried to surrender control, to serval. at first, i didn't. i imposed myself upon her. i tried to make serval mia, following this idea that there could be some therapeutic goodies in it, having little serval carry and live my burdens. so i pushed her into next life, weights on shoulders, and altough struggling a little, she did what she was told.

only thing is, it didn't change a thing. i had already told my story so many times, written it and written it again, over the last ten years, that having serval tell it again and behave accordingly did neither good nor bad. serval's story was mia's history. it was the past. and so i set serval free. and leaned back, and watched her.

now, serval isn't very wild. she's not making a big difference in next life. she's mainly spending her time there trying to have fun, and trying to find herself. she began revealing less skin, stopped taking her clothes off in the middle of crowds, or rather in the presence of others. instead, serval developed integrity. and a style of her own. well, not entirely of her own any more, because i have copied some of it by now. not that i wear a tutu to work, just some little details. i never wore pigtails before serval showed my how to. for example.

instead of the old serval mimicing me, new serval is soothing me in a way. so, in way, she's actually controlling me, and affecting me. not in the way i was planning at first, but in a way that's probably much more what i need. and she does teach me little things, just by being around and not really doing much. she can't stop me from being sad at times, but she and those she meets do make me laugh. that's not a bad thing.

serval can't make history go away. but maybe she's helping me go away? soothing serval, looking for black eyes. maybe i should surrender control completely, take her hand, and let her lead me. well, serval believes that she created me, and that she's already controlling me, so she'll be game.

mia"

Black

I have hardly been to the clubs now for forever, it feels. There's been no time. Between sleeping and sleeping, I've been shopping. But I've been buying close to nothing. Because I've been shopping for a new skin, and this skin, my skin, is so hard to find. I'm quite prepared to pay a lot for it, but I just can't find it. I've seen such skins in ads, but not for sale. Nowhere. As if they never were. I hate that.

I want black eyes. Really black, black eyes. Not sharp mascaras and distinct shadow. You get that in lots of skins. No, I want an utter all-embracing blackness, like an echo of oblivion mirrored in a moonless night. Two bloody big black holes for eyes, in short. And I can't find them. Which is so frustrating, because I've been to all shops. I've done the footwork. I've been good. And yet I have not been rewarded.

Mia once told me that humans don't change skin to change appearance. They can paint their own eyes, adding as much black they want. Well, that's another thing about humans that is hard to believe. If I chose to believe, and if I was a human, I'd paint my whole face black.

Oh, I want my skin! Give it to me!