"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"
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There was no end to it. They kept trying to save me. They told me there is a First Life, and that there are humans, who decide everything that happens in and to the world.
What can we avatars do? Walk, fly, talk, and take on and off clothes. That's about it. If there were humans, and if the best thing a million of them could think of doing was watching us, how could you ever consider them superior? I didn't think they can do a thing. I didn't think they can see us. Or even exist.
So I had to pretend there was a human controlling me, too. Mia. Until I found out that she was me. Instead I met an angel. Who brings me to life.
Snapshotting
