Toddy

The angel told me she was gonna go jetlagging, too, like all the others, and that means I'm gonna sleep for a day or two or three. Fine with me. Who cares. From my experience, sleeping a day or a million makes no difference. It feels exactly the same.

"Marry Chris must", she said, the angel. I dunno if that means she's already had some of the toddy, because that didn't come out right, did it? "Must marry Chris!" seems more like it, but hey, that sounds more than a little desperate to me. Don't jetlag home and marry that chap (who's completely unheard of up until now) just because of desperation, pls. Like, because of urges. Because of some momentary attraction just because he can do the trick (unless he has too much toddy). You know, angel, you've got that nice little buzzing object. Oh yes, you have. It can't only save you the desperation, but also saves you a lot of marrying. No more toddy until you're done, do you hear me. Forget about Chris. You don't really want him. Trade him for an extra set of batteries.

And I, I find myself in this place with all these pretty lights. I think I'm gonna stay up and celebrate this jetlag holiday, too, and do it right here. I'm afraid I don't have any toddy, though. But I've got a jug of beer, martinis, red wine and a green bottle of shampooigne in my inventory. This is gonna be some holiday!

Interacting

"oki, serval, i'm onto your case. sweet dreams. i've checked some 2,500 skins so far.

i see what you mean about the black hole eyes. you get to a certain amount of blackness, and there come the tearmarks. inevitably. imagine going to the police because something that you witnessed. imagine interacting with the identikit officer.

me: she had more eye makeup.

officer: okay. like this?

me: even more.

officer: more? okay, here we go.

me: no. no tearmarks.

officer: what? come on, she had tearmarks allright.

me: no, she hadn't.

officer: are you sure?

me: yes, i'm sure.

officer: i don't really believe you.

me: well, she had no tearmarks.

officer: okay, okay. but she had a couple of scars, hadn't she?

me: no.

officer: a bullet hole in her forehead?

me: no.

officer: now ... did you really see her?

e."

Slime

There's been a lot of invisible slime the last few times I've been awake. I suppose it's because everyone is travelling all at once, going home for Chris Must. That means a lot of jet lag, which spreads throughout the world. I think that's why all those people met in Copencobana the other day, to discuss what to do with all the bad things those jets do to us. Only, they hadn't been told why they were meeting, so it all came to nothing. Too bad I wasn't ejected for the E–you, or I would have been there, too, to put it all straight to them. No more slime! That's what I'd have told them. I've heard that there were 14,000 of them. And they failed to understand about the slime. Shows you what kind of bosses that got ejected, eh. Not even this Ohbanana guy got it. They celebrated him no end in a tonne of wash when he was ejected, hoping he'd fix everything, bur obviously he doesn't do jets. So it's still really, really slimy, which I don't like, as I'm shopping for skins. Btw, why do they sometimes put only three or so of their ten or so skins in the demo kit? The one I'm interested in is never in those three. The shop owner probably thinks I'm gonna like no 1, 2 and 3 so much that I'll buy no 9. Clever enough. First do that, then go eject some mr Omguava to represent you in the parlourmeant of the E-theeots.

Wow, the slime i sooo bad. Damn you, all 14,000 of you! Can't stand this. Emmi, please go to Xstreet instead and let me sleep!

Oops

I've had a revelation. Omg, it's massiv scale. I had it just about the same moment I was standing in this shop looking at the Black Hole Eyes of my dreams. Well, maybe not of my dreams, but not a bad skin at all, for being black hole typish. And as to the order of events, it was actually revelation first, then Black Hole Eyes right away. And the actual revelation was that I'd better start looking for a different kind of skin, because I've fallen half in love with a different kind of makeup. I don't really want the black holes any more. Oops. So I'd better go look again. Start all over again.

Before doing so I'd like to conclude. Because I have been around a lot looking for this skin. And I've seen stuff doing so. Oh, you can't even imagine the horrors. So these are questions to shop owners, designers et al. That is, the kind of people that would like me to buy their stuff.

Why put lots of demo skins in a pack that needs rezzing somewhere else? You want me to leave your shop? Why use vendors that I have to learn, which is so boring that I soon quit trying? Why not just use simple boards? Why use vendors that don't clearly name the different skins, so that I can identify the skins in the demo pack without trying all 28 demos in your laggy shop?
Why expect me to pay to try a demo of your skins? When I see the L1 tag, it means poor skin that can't be sold but has to earn some money anyhow. But most of all, why oh why can't skin designers stop once they have made a set of really black eyes? Why this urge to continue, to add tearmarks, bruises, scratchmarks, wounds, barbed wires, bullet holes and whatnot?

Oh, I know, I have said the above before. I guess those people don't listen to my diary. Probably because I don't buy their stuff.

Eerie

Or maybe a mystery? There was a murder? Nooo, something much scarier had happened. Ears had disappeared. Tails had been found missing. Cats were nowhere to be seen. Eerie. Then ... a sudden shriek.

Or maybe there is a lady living all alone. With 37 cats. She's so eccentric. And exotic. She's said to be mad. Others say she's a witch. Others say she does sudden shrieks. She's so eerie. And yet, she's the only one who knows about the secret teleport to First Life. So I have to go to see her.

Or maybe I have found out that the horrid little man isn't a man at all, but a vampire. He's called Doolb Slavres Kcus. He made it up himself. The name. It defines him. He's eerie. He has stolen my ears and my tail, and done horrible things to them. Unspeakable things. I want them, and he's waiting out there. All I have is my wooden stake.



Dunno if this is the kind of stuff Eddiethor wants for the mag. But I'll talk to him. They are good ideas.

Planning

I resigned myself to my fate. That's what I did. I didn't particularly like it, you know, going to the North Pole and posing in the snow. Especially not at there was this big fat man, dressed for a Best In Red event, who kept sneaking about, pretending he had some sort of business to attend to right there. As if I wasn't troubled enough already, worrying about catching a crab or a cold.

However, I did what Eddiethor asked from me, and he was happy with it. There was another compliment, omg, I could hardly sleep that night, even though the angel did her best to tuck me in. For the next issue, Eddiethor said, we should forget about the glamoer theme planned, no one wants glamoer any more, and instead go for something more exotic. That's what he said.

Eddiethor: "yeah, xotic. not sweetish only, u know. but wild. xotic. xtra magic, u know."

I really didn't know. But I didn't ask. Instead I said oki.

My first thought was white beaches and a nice tan. That's exotic. But the wild part, well, how wild can you go on a beach, eh? And magic? So I'll do some thinking and planning, because there is plenty of time until Janueary, he says. I want to get things right from the very start next time.

I had this one idea. Sort of exotic? Magic enough?

Damn

Winter

Yesss! Eddiethor liked my winter theme idea and decided to go for it, and save the glamoer for Janueary! He even called me clever for coming up with it. Clever. Clever! No one ever did that before. I kissed him then and there. Or rather tried to, but he declined the invitation from my HUD. I think maybe he's from News Eland.

Now, he didn't fancy my actual snapshot very much, but said it has to be improved. And done all over again. Only better. That's fine with me. I don't care after such a compliment. I think that was my first compliment ever. Apart from the mmmmm's, which aren't really compliments buth rather pavlovan sound reactions meaning "you don't have male shape". I think it would also do as a reaction to the actual pavlova. I'm not quite sure. I know the taste of tea, hambugger and ice cream, but I've never tried anything with meringue in it.

Now Eddiethor is gonna IM instructions to me for my winter theme cover cat snapshotting. I'm so excited, it's gonna be so much fun! I really can't wait.

Tiger

Eddiethor: "A RABBIT? what a [beep] [beep] are u! u don't think our listeners can tell a hot cat from a [beep] rabbit?"

He then told me what was expected from me, unless I wasn't interested in being the glamoer issue cover cat any more. Oh, I was interested, and from the very bottom of my heart, which I told him, but added that such things that he was mentioning wasn't really, really me, to be frank, and maybe there were other ways? There is a pair of tiger ears in my inventory, and I wouldn't mind at all wearing those together with, say, a nice jacket and maybe a pair of jeans. I've got a fine pair of shades, too. I'd very much prefer that to taking most of my clothes off for others to see, as public exposure of myself and whatever skin I'm wearing isn't really my piece of cake, I said.

Eddiethor: "and when u were a strip dancer in that girl-girl club, i guess u did it keeping ur clothes on?"

I gulped. I had no idea that he had listened to the CV I had IM'ed him at some point in the past.

So he urged me to get him his snapshots, done his way, and wasn't impressed at all when I pleaded for mercy, when I showed him my best jackets, or when I complained that I didn't have any place to go for the kind of snapshotting that he was asking from me, because I couldn't do it in public, could I?

Eddiethor: "how old r u, really?"

Serval: "a million"

Eddiethor: "no, ur not. ur... [long pause] ... [suspense] ...ur 928 days old, and u haven't got a proper home yet, or a proper job 2 pay 4 it? r u just lazy, or r u actually incapable?"

Serval: "/me blushes"

Eddiethor: "no, ur a [beep] disgrace"

Serval: "facepaws"

Eddiethor: "that's all u can say? facepaws? kitty, you need a good hiding"

Serval: "buttpaws"

Eddiethor: "again, pls?"

I left in a hurry, and set to work. I decided to A) stick to my tiger, jeans and leather jacket idea, despite Eddiethors slight reluctance, and to B) introduce a winter theme (quite appropriate for a December issue, eh) hoping for this to make him happy enough to accept A). And for that playful sexy touch he seems so keen on including, well, just look at what's attached to my lil tiger tail... This one's gonna do the trick.

Typo

Omg. He yelled "NI!" at me. Then yelled again, "NO!!!", correcting the typo. Why is it called typo, btw? The only such thing that I'm aware of is typo negative, which is played now and again by some DJ's. Judging from Eddiethors general look and body language, he certainly was negative at that point. So the "NI!" may have been not only appropriate to him, but also intentional.

He, however, obviously didn't like my James Pond kind of glamoer style, so I once again bolted, TP'ing to a safe haven. The others kindly suggested I should try without the sheep and go for bunnies instead. So oki, here goes. I got myself a bunny, and have now IM'ed the snapshot to Eddiethor. I'm hoping for a typo positive in response this time. Otherwise, what more can I do apart from digging into my inventory for launcheree and head for the appearance menu?

Classy

He didn't like the meadows. I'm speaking of Eddiethor, oc. He didn't like it at all, but just looked at me, shook his head, looked even more, and muttered "discon"... By then, I was already out of there.

When speaking to the others about the glamoer, they had two suggestions on what kind of snapshotting Eddiethor is expecting.

The first one is the classy one that makes minds stray to dreams of city night lights, caseanoes, cocktail glasses, silky evening gowns, heaps of treasure to be spent, and nice and expensive necklaces, like pearly or golden ones.

The other one is more or less the kind I already found myself, where launcheree and updone hairdoes are accessories to expensive skins, really really expensive ones that deserve to be displayed in quantities and from many different angles. "You've got any such pics?" they asked and, if so, offered to help me evaluate them, to see if they were nice enough for bubblishing.

I decided to go for the former type of glam, at least for starters. The James Pond kind. Night lights. Me. A huge and glowing golden inflatable sheep. Yes, wtg, Serval!

Pastoral

Following what I last spoke into my diary, some IM's I have received suggest ways to fulfil the requisites for glamoer snapshots. Thank you. However, I'm not quite sure where this diary is actually kept, whether it's in a PG sim or not. Because if it is, I can't do most of those things suggested. It's a shame that such creativeness should come to nothing. But I have learnt by now not to upset sim owners, as they have the power to eject, no no no no. I liked that idea that included the bunny ears, though, that would have been a good one. And a glamoerus one, too, of course. I remember Fishie wearing bunny ears once, and she looked eves so cute.

Instead I decided to go for a romantic pastoral PG theme. I liked the idea of doing so, not least as those kiwi guys from News Eland haven't been too pleased with what I said about them in a previous diary speech, and this shot might put things straight again. Oh, I don't expect the kiwi fruits to go straight, not from a snapshot of me (especially as I didn't do any 86's or 89'ers), but it may remind them of home, I hope, and make them less homesick. Which isn't a bad thing in these days when everybody seems to be looking forward to going home for Chris Must. Which I don't think the kiwis will do, because there is nothing left there any more except for hobbits, and you can see those in movies and save yourself the jet lag. I have learnt by now that "lag" is another word for invisible slime, which is an awfully annoying thing, and experiencing it jet force can be nothing short of horrible.

Then, is this new theme glamoer? Well, I myself can actually see (or at least trace a faint hint of, which should be good enough) a kind of romantic glamoer in there. The richness of the lush grassland. The golden sunlight. The fat inflatable sheep. It's all there. A whisper of wealth. A subtle promise of carnal gratification. I'm sure this snapshot is gonna do.

Glamoer

Cmon, it's not fair! I spent such an awful lot of time snapshotting for the new issue, and then this eddiethor avi told me to do it all over again. And better. Much better. Fuck me if it doesn't turn out better next time. And he said I use that same pose all the time and it's so Noctober. And he said unless I do a better job he'll have me discontinued (he listens to my diary, that old bugger, and knows which buttons to press) and find someone else for the cover cat snapshoot.

Oki, so what do I do now? Snap a better shot, oc, but how? How am I to know?

My original snapshot was this one, but eddiethor didn't like it.



The December issue is gonna be all glamoer, he said, and I thought this one was gonna be perfect for it. Oil! That's wealth, shiny bodies and huge cigars. Am I supposed to put a cigar in there? It's not very healthy smoking that close to combustibles. I guess that's why they stick those little sturgeon-jennyral warning speeches onto the packets.

I looked around the world for "glamoer pitchas" for inspiration, and I found them showing both avis and humans. (No furries, though.) But I dunno. Can I really use such in my diary? Omg, the horrid little man would be here in no time, tossing cigars into all the barrels:

Horrid man: "86. Upsizing bust!"

Horrid man: "87. Wearing more launcheree than clothes!"

Horrid man: "88. Wearing more skin than launcheree!"

Horrid man: "89. Upsizing bust even more!"

Horrid man: "90. Most probably using bouncy settings!"

No, I'm not sure glamoer snappshotting is the thing for me.

Mag

Oops, I gotta bubblish my new magazine! Stop press! Big rush! Yeah, because it's the November issue. Hurry, hurry. There, done!



I'm quite happy with this first one, to be honest, and the December issue may get even better. It may even have articles and stuff. Content, like. And guess who's gonna be the cover cat... Or cover avi, rather. Because it's just a normal (although very special) avi with object cat ears and possibly a tail attached. FYI. If you didn't get that one yourself already.

Well, I'm glad I finally found a way to exploit those silly ears. I had to do it some way, hadn't I?

Ocean

I spoke a little with Fishie again. I liked doing so, hearing from her. But I don't know when she won't be sleeping again, for another chat. Because of the big ocean, she's sleeping a lot when I'm awake. And she can't come here, I guess, because you can't just fly across the sea from one sim to another just like that. There is usually an invisible wall stopping you. Swimming is no good either. Especially not for a poor swimmer like me. I spoke about that before, didn't I? And I don't have a nice swimsuit any more. I liked my red bikini, but it's made out of latex and began melting when I got too close to the voocane-o for the witch trial of the horrid little man's. Now it covers barely anything, and I think the very point of wearing swimsuits is not to show that you're naked. So I'll have to wait here and see if Fishie wakes up again before the angel ninis me to sleep.

Why

By now I have accepted that the angel is controlling me. She makes me do things. Maybe even say things. I dunno. I guess that may be the reason why I sometimes say things I really don't know anything about. So ok, the angel makes me walk and talk.

But why, oh why, does she keep putting these ears on top of my head?

Lolly

They were celebrating Hello Wean tonight. It's yet another one of those celebrations of the half humans, half avis. There are also New Year, Rezz Day, New Day, Chris Must Today, and Good Fry Day, when there's the giant rabbit roast. I think the Hello Wean is when everyone stops not eating candy. They have probably been eating those big oranges long enough and are now dying for a lolly.

I like snapshotting, so I was thinking of joining the picture contest in this club where I go now and then. Not to win the prize, really. I rather like the challenge. Making an effort. Trying to accomplish something that others may like. Or hate. The horrid little man is gonna hate it, for sure. I bet he's gonna search every club in the world after listening to this diary entry, only to have my picture burnt.

Now, I have a slight dilemma with this competition. Should I enter my picture avi fashion or human fashion? You know, we avatars use our snapshot feature to take pictures. You point the cam at whatever you want a picture of, and shoot. Done. While the humans go and get a picture from an avi, and then do a lot of changes to it using something called sofwhere. They change colours and stuff, take away bits and pieces that they don't want, and even add stuff, like backgrounds and even little speeches.

I dunno. If you have a very nice SL background, why would you want to change it?

Trial

Horrid little man ruined the Noctober tranquility of my mind by IMing again, accusing me of all in all 47 immoral sins. I wasn't quite happy about that. I replied, of course, saying he was all wrong. I never did the flexing. Never ever.

The matter had to be resolved. I agreed to do it the old-fashioned way he suggested, the way they tried witches in the olden days. If I'd sink I'd be found not guilty. If I'd float I'd be found guilty and burnt by the stake. Oh, I knew I'd sink because I don't swim very well. It's the same old story every time I get into water. I never float. I always end up on the floor of the ocean. So I switched into a nice swimsuit and had him TP me in, hoping that he'd leave me alone once and for all once done.

I hadn't expected to swim in a voocane-o. And the horrid man hadn't expected the swimsuit. He quickly scribbled in his notebook. Probably "48. Indecent exposuring".

Horrid man: "u look hot already rofl"

Serval: "thank you"

He scribbled again. "49. Provocativation".

Serval: "is skinny-dipping allowed?"

He scribbled again. "50. Being cheeky".

Serval: "you already have that one... i think it's number nine"

He scribbled again. "51. Besserwissering".

And so it went on. For ages. I never got my swim, because I fell asleep eventually. I think he was somewhere around 85 at that point, and scribbling a long backlog. I don't think he wanted to see me fry. I think he just wanted to see me.

Still Noctober

They said it was gonna go away, but it didn't.

Noctober

Eyes

"i came out yesterday. oh, not in that kind of way, saying i'm a lesbian. despite serval's romance with fishie, most of her human's eyes look for boys. just stray furtive glances go the other way.

what i mean is oc the black hole eyes. serval's hunger for them emanates from me, me yearning for them but not really daring. until yesterday night. when i wore them in public for the very first time. surprising the friends that i went out with. and delighting myself, well, not delighting really, that's by far too lame. i was thrilled, excited, and knew that i looked so bloody hot. i moved in a new way, spoke in a new voice, and looked at others like i never had the guts to before. i was me. me for real. i was so bloody hot.

so, ha ha, what about monday, going to work? new look? or shall i keep this my look for partying and hunting for mates? omg, the initial response in that resepect was quite promising. black hole eyes, to be continued.

btw, i happened to eavesdrop the other night when serval was chatting with som friends. well, it's hard not to listen to what your avatar says, isn't it. not that she really said anything of interest, to be honest, but one of the others told serval to say hello to mia. and that's where i'd like to put things straight. informally, without bringing god in.

mia is no more. or, rather, mia was serval's interpretation of the human that she didn't think was controlling her. some months ago she realized that she and mia were one and the same, i.e. herself, and yet there was someone interacting with and intervening in her life. and then she met me and got it all straightened out. she doesn't have to picture me any more. there's no need for a mia any more. she has me.

e."

Flu

I have been worried about the flu. They say it's gonna come and give us viruses and crabses, and we'll be really messed up by that, so badly that some will be discontinued because of it. There's no cure, is there? Oh, some of the others spoke of having a waxination, but I frankly don't think that's gonna help them a lot. Ok, they're gonna look really nice on that shiny table when they get desectioned. I dunno why they get opened up like that. Maybe to take the bits and pieces out to make them hollow. For whatever reason. Maybe to keep those pieces. Maybe they stuff them afterwards with useless objects and stitch them up. I've seen stitched skins. And I've seen some really strange avis, looking like noob guys but not moving, rather behaving like objects. Maybe someone had discontinued them, emptied them, stuffed them and left them around, hoping nobody would notice the theft. I don't want that to happen to me, because it would mean they'd take out my heart, and god knows it took me a long, long time before I finally got it. Or half of it, rather, because the rest is really Mia's.

Now, I don't think the waxination will do much good. My skin is trimmed, or sheared, and doesn't have much to remove anyhow, there's just a tiny little bit. And I don't see how it would stop the viruses, unless they are much attracted to hair. If so, detaching the hair would be much more reasonable than waxing. Unless there's really a lot. Of which I prefer not to think any more.

They say it's a pig flu, but it can tp to us, too, and that's why we should stay away from the pigs. I had a huge pink one in my inventory, and deleted it right away. And I'm gonna stay away from Virtuos Africa, because I've seen warthogs there. I think such measures are much more efficient than shaving your fanny. But I'm worried that others don't agree on that. Or didn't. Well, I don't really know what to believe, but none of my friends were awake today, and I also saw very few other avis around, hardly any. I'm worried that most of them went for the waxing, and then didn't bother about the pigs, believing they were safe. And then they maybe went to see the warthogs, or even had a porky barbercue to celebrate their hairlessness, and got bugged. I'm afraid something like that may have happened. I hope I'm wrong, or that they will recover. The worlds would be very empty places without them. Yeah, this is said to happen in First Life too.

Oh, I hope the angel is safe. She's a veggietarion, so she won't join the waxing roast, should there be one. And I didn't see any pigs in her city. Please don't make her flued.

Silver

"the moonlight. enchanting me. the full moon. me crazying about it. the silver light. licking my body with the touch of the slightest breeze. perceptible. not feelable. the touch of a gaze, and still it fills me with hunger and tranquilty. stops my heart. blows my mind. melts me.

i've seen they tried to make a moon in second life. i can control it. i can make it full. change its shine. have it make beautiful reflections. a lot of things. but they never understood the moon, those poor pets who put it up there amongst the pixel stars. they never understood they have to fill it with magic.

gotta bring serval here to show her the real moon. make her knees soften, too. going all spaghetti. make her too bask in the silver light.

e."

Sins

Someone IMed me wondering how come I don't blubber my eyes out here in my diary because of Fishie. And called me a callous bitchwitch that deserves to, and most likely will, burn at the stake. That last bit gave the sender away: Horrid Little Man. Arbiter ethicum. Who keeps IMing me a lot, doesn't he. I wonder if he's in love with me, or just genuinely dislikes me and truly wants to see me fry.

At some point such a long time ago my puppet Mia predicted that cold black winds would fill our heart with nothing again. That was regarding the breaking up with Fishie, which already then seemed inevitable. It was to come. There were dark clouds on the horizon. It was to come because of that kind of stuff. And eventually the thunderstorm came. Although it wasn't that stormy, and there wasn't much thunder. Still, it got me all wet. But as I had gazed into the crystal ball I knew it was to come. I was prepared. I had my towel and kleenex ready. I just didn't wring them out in my diary. Then where did I wring them? Did I wring them? Not here. Why not? Cmon why? Well. I was inspired by the angel. Not to. I like Fishie. I respect Fishie. What more can I say without not.

Horrid Man also sent another IM saying I'm inconsistent. Up until recently I have been ignorant of First Life countries, he says, and now all of a sudden I know lots of things about places such as News Eland. For example, I know about hobbits and stuff. That's inconsistent. So I'm a fake. And faking it is one of the seven immoral sins, he says. So I'm screwed. Each one of them condemns your soul to hell.

The full list of the seven, he says, is:
1. Being screwed.
2. Faking.
3. Diking.
4. Witching.
5. Blinging.
6. Diarying.

And, once he got to know I have been dancing again, he added an eighth:

7. Flexing.

I told him I don't do that when dancing. Rather, that's him visualizing me. Upon which he replied:

8. Visualizing. (Which I [Horrid Little Man] of course don't do.)

The exchange of IMs that followed added the following to the list:

9. Being cheeky.
10. Resisting auto-da-fés.
11. Using fire extinguishers.
12. Peeing in public.

By the time I'm speaking this, there are more immoral sins than tops in my inventory. As he has not yet included "threatening with a black cat" I guess that's what I'll have to resort to again.

All in all some 15 IMs in a day. Oh the love!

Kiwi

I do fancy the angel. Not that I want to kiss her and cuddle her and sleep with her. I just like her. Love her. A little. It isn't necessary to go to bed with everyone you like or love. Like pets. You don't have to make love to the kittens just to prove that you love them. Or your brothers and sisters. And many love their country, how would you bed one of those? Do the soil? Lay the flag? Or screw everyone that lives there?

There's a country called News Eland, where the guys probably do love the pets and animals a lot, because they're said to shag a lot of sheep. I don't know why, but the girls there can't be very pretty. I got that thing about Mia's brother Cat wearing velcro gloves in a story from News Eland. (And I was stupid enough to tell someone, and then had to stick to the story. Poor pet Cat.) But the original story also included rubber boots. I don't think I ever made anyone think that Cat wears those. I own a pair myself, though. They are black with a pink flower on each boot.

I wonder why they prefer sheep over there. It's obvious there's got to be a lot of elands around, too, considering the name. But maybe it's harder to sleep with an antelope than with a sheep. Maybe the guys over there are quite short, so that sheep have a more comfortable height. Maybe that's also why the girls, preferring big boys, don't lift a finger to make themselves attractive to the local guys. They probably come to SL instead, where all the boys are huge and all the girls that have a decent amount of lindens at their disposal can make themselves pretty enough. And yet there are sheep here, too. Inflatable ones (although they don't inflate for real here, they just rezz). I've got one of those, too. But it doesn't have any pink flowers. Which wouldn't be such a bad idea, would it. A pink flower and a ribbon. That might appeal to the guys from News Eland, once they find their way to Second Life, looking for wherever all the girls have gone.

I don't have any eland. I haven't even seen any around. There are impalas, though. They are antelopes, too, only smaller than elands, but that might suit the kiwi guys fine, if they find the blowup sheep not very suitable for velcros. A kiwi is a fruit. The others say that a fruit is the same as a fairy. Which may be another reason why all the girls left from there.

Once the guys come to SL for the impalas, only the hobbits will be left over there. And the elands, oc. That's not a very good match. Elands are rumoured to make an impressive jump and then land head first to kill themselves when all hope is at an end. I guess that's gonna happen a lot. After that there will be hobbits only. The good old hobbits, holding the fort. I bet they love their country a lot.

Gardening

Mia once told me about growing trees. I didn't think of it much at that point, apart from concluding it was a strange thing to do when you can walk into close to any shop and buy a tree that's already full size. And if you still think it's to small you can stretch it. Well, that was my general viewpoint. Why grow a tree?

But you know what? I became interested in gardening last time I was awake. I began planting things everywhere I could. It looked ever so pretty. But you know what! There are avis that don't like things growing but take them away. When I said, hey, that's my tree, they told me to get my own sim.

So I guess my days of gardening are over. If there was CO2 in SL I could maybe have claimed a part of a sim and said I'm gonna grow trees to help save the world. But the others say there is no CO2 at all here. You have to go to First Life for it. Not that I saw any there. How do they look? How do they taste? I think the general idea is that First Life would be a better place if there was no CO2, so I'd say it probably has a taste like tea.

I guess you know

I lost someone. I dunno yet if it was for the better or for worse. What I know is that we haven't met much for some time. The angel has let me sleep much, and those times when I've been awake Fishie hasn't been around. So it was probably coming. Or going.

We lay in each others arms
But the room is just an empty space
I guess we lived it out
Something in the air
We smiled too fast
then can't think of a thing to say

I dunno what makes things like this. Or why. Maybe it's one of those things that are meant to happen. Or that just happen. I dunno.

We used what we could
To get the things we want
But we lost each other on the way
I guess you know I never wanted
anyone more than you

(David Bowie)

Me

It was me, waiting for me, hoping for something more.
Me, seeing me this time, hoping for something else.

(JD)

Realm

"yes, what if i was to bring serval to first life. not just for one day. for good. for ever. to bring her into my life. to include her in what i do, in what i think, in how i think. make her spend her time here instead, irl.

she wants to come out. that's metaforce, oc. unless you don't believe that humans control the avatars. i feel this urge to spend my time here, too. rl changes have made the world seem much larger to me all of a sudden. there are these untold doors, wide open, and i hear those tempting sounds from inside. have a peek, cross the threshold, ask what's going on. that's what i want to do.

serval has made me try new things. she has shown that it doesn't kill me. it usually doesn't even hurt. so now when this new rl realm of potential experiences, pleasures and adventures is out here waiting for me, why don't i. why don't i indulge myself even more, bringing serval along, never to return to where she was born.

e."

IM

I may be spending most of my time nowadays just sitting somewhere dreaming of a different world. But I do still listen to my IMs.

I got this one saying I was making a big fool out of myself being two plus years and still liking bling. I replied I don't. And then got a reply quoting my diary blah blah blah. Don't I truly hate it when people read unspoken things into my words. Because I didn't say those things because I had no reason to, either because they are no one's business or because they aren't correct, never happened, never were. Because. Ok, in this particular case I said I began liking blings. But I never said I continued. There you are. Those who know me can probably verify that they have heard me say many stupid things, but never "/bling on", not even once. True, there is a blingy belly piercing freebie in my inventory, but I never use it (I did once, a long time ago, and it attached inside my belly and couldn't be seen other than as the occasional light from inside my tummy.)

Another IM was from Horrid Man, saying that I had now added aspirations to become god to my previous list of alleged sins (sleeping with girls, sleeping with animals, sleeping with the devil). Consequently I will fry forever even more after I'm gone.

Those that I care for don't IM me any more, though. I think they have forgotten about me, after I've been spending all my time with just one of them, and after that I spent close to no time with anyone. I think I had lost the urge to just hang, was hoping for something more serious, and didn't find it around. So parting wouldn't be that bad, would it. Bring me to your world, angel! And then don't send me back again.

Is the

Love me
love me
love me
love me
say you do
Let me fly away with you
For my love is like the wind
and wild is the wind
Wild is the wind

(Dimitri Tiomkin & Ned Washington)

SL nights

I remember the first time I saw bling. On a pair of shoes, worn by a girl. I thought it looked ever so good, ever so beautiful, ever so advanced. I humbly felt like the most wretched noob in comparison. Facepaws. Buttpaws. However, that's when I fell for the night, and began really liking it. The blings. The lights. The atmosphere of SL nights.

I used to like watching the stars. The lovely stars. Now I know they aren't real, but just painted somewhere up there. They are nothing but little dots of light. They are lamps. They mean nothing. And the names that I thought were theirs aren't the names of these ones, but of those in First Life. Alcyone, Bellatrix, Capella, Deneb... And now I've seen them too. Omg. Not to mention the moon, which is full these days and such a pretty thing, so enchanting, so mesmerizing.

Once the angel used the expression "real life", obviously referring to First Life. Omg. Now I can't get it out of my head. Real life. Words to make you cry. Words to make kings start wars.

Back!

Oh, she brought me back to First Life! Just for one day. Just for one more day. She said she had listened to my diary and understood that I wasn't happy about being in SL any more. And she said that she was sorry for having messed things up by letting me have that peek into First Life. I'm an avatar, so I'm supposed to prefer SL, and she wanted to put things straight for me by showing me that First Life isn't just nice and fun, but also quite the contrary.

So the angel brought me to IKEA. Now, that didn't work as planned, I think, because I didn't have any lindens to buy anything, so I didn't have to pull any of those heavy trolleys with boxes to rezz at home that I saw lots of humans struggling with. So I rather enjoyed going there, actually.

Then she told me about bleeding, which didn't really mean much to me. I've seen blood, which usually comes as a clothes layer. I have some in my inventory. The angel wanted to show me some First Life blood, though, but couldn't put the knife into her finger, so I did it myself, on myself. I don't have problems with such things. Once, for a household accident event, I put three huge metal stakes right through my chest. Now this was different. Not the blood, which was just red stuff, but the hurting part of it, which came as a surprise, even though she had told me to expect it. Bleeding now and then wouldn't be too bad, but I wasn't sure I'd like it hurting like that each time. But then she told me why, which changed my mind drastically. It was all about allowing me to have one of those little humans of my own. My very own. And I would control it. Now, that was something I didn't see coming. My mind boggled at the very idea. Such an unheard of thing. Controlling humans? (Isn't that what their god is supposed to do? Could I become their god? The mere thought of it made me want one of those little humans right away.)

She then came back to this with being human in First Life and the one million and eighty days (of which some had already passed), and after that the discontinuation. She asked me if I had thought about that, if I wanted that. I told her I really didn't. But I had also thought about something else.

"you say you yourself will be dicontinued after all those days?"

"yes", she nodded.

"but if i'm still in sl, and you controlled me, what will happen to me?"

The angel looked at me, smiling faintly:
"u figured that 1 out, didn't u"

It wasn't a happy smile. Rather a sad friendly kind.

"u will sleep", she said. "and keep sleeping 4ever, unless some1 else comes by and wakes u up"

"but that's not gonna happen, is it?"

"no. i don't think so"

So there wouldn't be much difference, would there, being in First or Second Life.

After this followed more, including taxes, bad guys, humans fighting humans, and other stuff. But most of that can be seen in SL too. She couldn't say one single thing that made SL seem the better place to live. And still she wanted me to be there?

One word

There were these strange things. I was in the angel's bed and was entirely relaxed, and then saw things happening, without them happening for real. When I looked around the angel was next to me, and when I didn't look any more, these other things came back. It was like I was doing things, experiencing things, but they didn't happen. I don't think they did. And then all of a sudden there were those so familiar sensations of waking up in SL. The brief dizziness. Then my eyes clearing to reveal the world around. The bed was gone. The angel was gone. First Life was gone.

I have one single word for that moment. Disappointment. Utter disappointment. Those were two words.

I was back. First Life was no more. And to be honest, at first I wasn't quite sure it all had really happened. Maybe there had been no angel. Maybe it was just another one of those strange things happening in my head before I woke up.

But no. Of those I remember little, if anything. They were just like some kind of fluttering interference, like someone showing you a lot of snapshots so fast you didn't really see them, didn't get time to focus your eyes on any.

From First Life I remember everything. The places. The rattle of the subway. The angel. Her words. The sounds. The stare of the little humans next table. The feeling of ice on my skin. Omg, the feeling of other things. And the pace of the humans, the masses of them. Smelling. And I can still feel the taste of tea and ice cream in my mouth.

I have been there.

And now I'm back. And from the first moment I didn't want to. And I still don't.

There are humans. I know that now. Because I've even been one, if only oh so briefly. What more can I say. All I knew about living, or rather the living itself, has been reduced to a triviality if compared to experiencing those things in First Life. All those things.

Oh, the club. The best club I'd been to. There is nothing like it in SL. Same music, but a different universe. And we went into a church. Oh my, I thought churches were for having sex. I saw that once, there was a dungeon in a place just like that church, and all the guys were like tied up in strange furniture, or hung naked in ropes and begged for no mercy. But the angel said First Life churches are for human religion. Which confused me, because I have believed that they did religion in SL. Then there was the zoo, where the animals were as real as me and the angel, not objects only, and they all had their free wills. That's more than I have myself, obviously. Because everything I do is controlled by her. I dunno about what I think, but what I do, it's all her. Everything I say. I have no free will. But I had there, in First Life.

First life

when serval came she walked into my front door with a thud, and then stood there first poking it, then slapping it with her hand until i opened. her jaw dropped when she saw me. her eyes went round and huge. i let her stare. she should have been cute, but that look upon her face sent her plummeting down the cuteness scale.

it took her a minute to overcome the first surprise. after that her mouth closed and she sort of rearranged herself into one of her usual ao stands. only her eyes showed that something was wrong. an intense gaze. eyes trying to focus hard, harder, and even harder. a quick, furtive glance around, as if to look for some sort of aid. a bead of perspiration showing on her forehead. a frustrated snort. then, with a slight grimace, she reluctantly lifted both hands in front of herself, waist-height, and began tapping the air with her fingers. followed by another snort when nothing happened.

i told her to use speach instead.

----- ♥ -----

Speach? So everyone in First Life automatically had speach? I though that was quite neat. And I was just about to try it when this sudden, horrifying screech made me flinch. The one in front of me got startled, too, but quickly composed herself:

"u can't just make sound like that", she said. "u have 2 make the words 2"

I tried:
"R U A HUMAN?"

Then, after adjusting the volume level:
"r u a human?"

The human nodded.

"r u my angel 2?"

She nodded again, and said:

"welcome, serval. come on in"

"oki"

She presented herself. She told me she had brought me to show me First Life, just for one day, to unveil the mysteries, to put my mind at ease. Now, I'm not that stupid and had already realized that much by myself, because I do listen to my diary and had oc heard her speaking into it again. I got a bit annoyed when doing so, because it's my private diary and I don't really like her speaking there more than I liked Mia doing so. Not that I had really believed that this E angel should bring me, not after the ejection thing that turned out pure humbug and all other sorts of things. I've heard oh so much about First Life, but seen absolutely nothing of it. So I had expected this to be yet another false alarm.

She reached her hand out towards me:
"so here it starts. ur experience. touch me"

----- ♥ -----

serval touched my hand lightly, with one finger extended. then she poked, then squeezed a little. smiling she touched my arm. my hair. my chin. my mouth. my... I had to quickly move away from the finger closing in on my eye.

"you can't touch the eyes. it hurts."

"oh? what's that?"

"it's like... it feels like when you walked into the door when you came."

"oh. yeah, that didn't feel any good."

she continued, touching my cheek. my neck. my boobs.

"you know of the appearance menu?" she said.

i then let her spend some time investigating the world, or rather my flat. nothing in there seemed to surprise her, or impress her much. not until i gave her a cup of tea, which was a. hot and b. fluid. it wasn't a pretty sight seeing her drink for the first time ever. which made me wonder, and worry slightly, about another first time ever, bound to come some time after the drinking.

to get my thoughts off that i took her to see my computer, started it and logged on. she quickly recognized her home world. i showed her an alt avi of mine and made it move, fly, jump and speak.

"oh my god", she said. "you DO control him." then she looked at me:
"does that mean i was controlled too, really?"

"yes."

"oh my god. who did?

"i did."

"oh... then what things did you control?"

"everything you did so far."

"everything?"

"yes."

"even when..."

"even."

"oh my god." she sipped her tea. yes, she was a quick learner:
"you still control me? like now?"

"i don't know", i said and stood up. i walked to the other end of the room and told her to come.

"oki", serval replied. and then she got the clue and stopped, like in mid-step:
"no. i won't."

"then take your shirt and pants off."

"no", she said and smiled.

instead she sat down by the computer. her typing skills were excellent. the avatar jumped, walked, flew and ran across the screen. it took all of its clothes off and then continued walking. /me is very stupid, she typed, chuckling.

"i control it", she said. "avis can control avis, too!"

"i'm not so sure", i said, watching her playing.

"why? come on, don't be daft, can't you see what i'm doing?"

"to put it like this. i'm not sure you're an avatar right now."

"course i am."

"i think you're a human."

that kind of stopped her.

"i don't think you can be an avatar here", i explained. "not in first life. so then you're a human, too. today you are."

"oh my god", serval said.

now, was she a human? was she really like me? did she have all the bits and pieces? did she have a heart inside there? did she even breathe. she should, logically, or how did she make the sounds when speaking?

"are you gonna go mmmm now?" she asked.

"pardon?"

"they usually do. they stare at my boobs like that, and then they go mmmmm hun."

----- ♥ -----

The angel spoke of many things that were all new to me. While going down the stairs, because we were gonna go for brickfirst, she told me not to walk into the street in front of cars. Not to walk trough objects such as signboards on the sidewalk, lamp posts, dogs et cetera. She told me not to jump or fall from high places. Not to push stakes, knives, swords or any other objects through my body becuase it would hurt a lot and might even discontinue me. Omg, it wasn't hard telling she was a human, considering all those rules.

I liked the street. There were so many avis there, no, so many humans. And after learning that they never pushed and never bumped into you, I enjoyed it even more. The place was crowded like no sim in SL ever, and still there was no slime. There were shops and shops, and a lot of noise and cars moving along the street all the time. But I learnt that I could control them by touching a poseball in the street corner, which made them stop so that we could cross to the other side. Oh, I loved the noise. It was like in the clubs, lots of sound all the time. Not that eary emptiness of oh so many sims at home.

She took me to a place to eat a hambugger. It was meat in it, meaning a dead animal, so she couldn't have one herself, but she wanted me to try.

"What does it taste?" she asked.

I had no idea, of course. I had tried tea, which tasted like, well, what's the point of ever drinking it again, but I had never eaten anything before.

"Like an ass?" I suggested.

The angel just looked at me, saying nothing. There was a kind of lolling sound from next table, where a bunch of small-sized humans sat with a big one, looking at us.

"Oki... like a zebra, then? Or a cow? Come on, how am I to know!"

----- ♥ -----

watching serval eat was another one of those first evers you'd rather leave to someone else to share. the kids next table stared with eyes large as saucers, and their mum, slightly disgusted but seeing all four or five of them absolutely still and quiet for the first time that day, probably considered whether she could learn to do that, too.

after taking serval to the washroom – i began realizing we were going to do that a lot – i took her out into the street again and down the subway, explaining that this was the first life version of tp. she asked if we could go to brussels, but didn't really get my explanation of why not until i said it was just a local tp within this sim.

we went to a lot of places that day. she accepted that she couldn't fly ("humans just can't", i told her / "what? oh my god. why not?" / "too bad, eh" / "what about you, then?" / "i can't either" / "but you're an angel" / "i can't" / "mia told me angels can" / "no, i can't" / "where are your wings, by the way?" / "i don't have any" / "mia said..." / "i don't have them" / "you lost them, eh?" / "i never had any" / "come on, you lost them" / "no" / "you're a fallen angel, aren't you, so you lost your wings" / "serval..." / "you're not a real angel after all, are you?" / "well, no" / "oki with me. don't make such a fuzz about it, i don't want to fly"), and instead got to walk a lot, and to tp all over the city. she had that ice cream, and a visit to the washroom, and went to the museum with that huge ship that sunk, almost threw up in a funfair, looked inside a church, crossed between the city islands in a boat, walked a park and up onto the rooftops, ogled the objects in a large shopping mall, and of course went to the zoo, where she recognized the animals from virtuous africa. she wasn't doing bad at all, seemingly at ease in the city and accepting most things at face value. she had probably seen a lot stranger things in second life. what came as a surprise to her, though, was fatigue. she collapsed in the sofa back in my place.

----- ♥ -----

So there was slime in First Life, after all. It was a strange kind of, but clearly the same thing. Oh, not alltogether. The speach came quickly even when the moving was slimed, and it seemed to be the same with Emmi the angel. She gave me more tea, sat down next to me and said that she was thinking of us going to a club to dance that night, after we had had a rest. I asked her what kind of music there was here in First Life, and she said it was exactly the same as in SL. Which was good enough to me. I had sort of half expected there to be some rule against music, or against dancing. On the other hand, I had already seen that this world had quite a bit of extras compared to where I came from. Good extras. There were so many guys and girls around, so much happening everywhere all the time. Not to mention the sounds, the feeling when touching things, and smelling things in your nose. The angel even got something with a nice smell in a shop after lunch and touched it onto me under my arms, saying, sorry, she had forgotten about that. And now she said there was gonna be more extras tonight in the club she had in mind, for sure.

"just no devils singing, pls", I told her.

"no devils, i promise"

----- ♥ -----

i sent her off into my bedroom to lay down to rest for a while, but she soon returned, standing by the sofa with a certain object in her hand, saying she found it in my room. i took it from her:
"you little spy."

"what's the problem? i've got one, too. in my inventory. it makes a sound and you put it between your legs."

"well, that's the thing."

"i've never really seen the point."

"this one is different, i can tell you."

"why?"

"trust me. it's different."

"oki." she gazed at it. "can i try?"

i looked at her, then gave it back:
"just do it in the bedroom. i don't want to watch."

"oki", she replied and left.

i heard her voice through the door saying "surprise me", followed by a steady buzz. from what i heard, and heard continuously from then on, it did surprise her. a lot. and she was obviously not disappointed. at all. i made myself another cup of tea and sat down to drink it. i had another cup. then serval's head poked out from the bedroom, complaining that the buzzing had stopped.

"the batteries probably went low", i said, and she awwwed until i brought her new and high ones.

her head disappeared behind the door again. after half an hour more i pulled her out of there, and made her go the bathroom to wash her hands once more. she returned into the living room, staggering on unsteady legs, and said:

"please don't make me go back."

"well, are your hands clean?"

"i mean home. i don't want to go back there."

----- ♥ -----

I liked getting ready for the club. First I had an experience with water and little bubbles all over my body in the bathroom, and then searched the angel's inventory for what to wear, before she sat me down to make me up. She said humans can't just wear another skin, but have to do the painting themselves, and told me not to rub my eyes after she had finished.

"i know", I said. "because it hurts"

"no, because u don't wanna look like a rackoon"

"why not? what's a rackoon?"

"they have black colour smeared all around their eyes and over half of their face"

"oh, i'd like that!" I exclaimed. "please, emmi, i want rackoon eyes!"

----- ♥ -----

serval abandoned the idea of heels after trying them on, or rather after trying to use them. and she didn't really need them. mia had referred to her as "little incarnation", but serval was close to 15 cm, or 5 inches or so, taller than me, and would do fine in her black converse. she wasn't very dressy anyhow. not really trashy, but not dressy. not that it mattered what she wore, becuse her black hole eyes were sure to catch enough attention. the doorman at the club probably wasn't very convinced he did the right thing letting her in. my, hadn't i dreamt of wearing such eyes, just once. still i wasn't brave enough to double her that night.

i bought us drinks from the bar. one normal one for me, and one watered-down for serval. there had been a lot of mess that day, first evers turning freak shows, and escaping the bar version would be a good thing.

she picked an ice cube out of her mouth, looked at it and held it in her hand:
"that's cool. it almost hurts and feels good at the same time."

she studied it, holding it between her fingers. then she put her other hand into the glass, shovelling up all the cubes, and said she'd be right back. she walked away in the direction of the ladies room, to return five minutes later:
"yeah, feels really good too."

----- ♥ -----

There was no slime! The dance floor was crowded and still there was none of the invisible slime. Oki, there was no dressing event, but that was fine because we hadn't brought her inventory anyhow. And apart from that, omg. Omfg. The dancing. There were no dance balls, which meant I could dance just as I liked, and I think everyone else did, too. A million humans were dancing, all differently. And the music was so loud I first thought it was some mmmmm guy standing behind me pretending to dance but really touching me on the sly.

The angel danced, too. She said she didn't really enjoy it, but joined me after a while. We had another drink (which didn't make me fall, or have sex with dogs) and then danced even more.

In the washroom, where I went because of that drinking fluid thing the angel had told me about and which I already had tried back in her place, I saw myself in the visitor board above the handwasher. I looked all shiny, as if I was wearing body oil even in my face, and had a few slight emo tearmarks, although I hadn't cried. No way I'd cry in a place like that. When I spoke to the angel about it, before returning onto the dance floor, she said she was glad she had made me put on more deidreant.

Eventually the event ended, and when we walked back to her place I wondered if I would ever be able to fully enjoy a dance club in SL again.

----- ♥ -----

before sending serval to bed that night i told her how i had created her. i told her how humans normally are created. i told her about death. she said she knew about that one: the one million and eighty days. maybe third life. if there was one.

"there is no third life, i think", i said. "there is first life and second life. and you know, you have descended one number, from second to first. you're going the opposite direction."

"and what about the zeroeth life?"

i smiled at her:
"yeah, some humans believe there is one of those, too."

"do you?"

"i don't know. maybe there is. maybe not."

"what do you really, really think?"

"i don't know. i just know i'm right here right now."

"me too. and i love it."

i sat looking at her all night. she was sleeping. she was dreaming, for the first time. and by the morning she'd be gone, gone home, leaving nothing but my memories of her and a stained pillow.

it was a hard thing, watching her, letting her go. i created her. i gave her life, maybe the only kind i'd be able to give. but she had to go back, hadn't she.

i sat there watching her. i didn't sleep, of course, how could i. i sat watching until she had gone.

One day

"what if i was to bring serval to first life. just for one day. to show her around. to show her those things that the others have been talking so much about. to show her humans.

yes, serval, you've been thinking a lot about those things. the ones you could probably call existential. coming here, you'd get some of the answers right away, you'd see them with your own eyes. others might have to be told. which isn't much of a problem, because that's what i'm here for. your angel. although i'm not sure this is the way it was meant to be done when i was handed your file. i think, rather, that i was meant to go see you in your world.

now, it's kind of a risky thing to do, isn't it. what if serval really, really likes it here, and don't want to go back. well, that's probably hypothetical, because we all want to go back to where we belong, don't we. at the end of the day, we all want to go home. and still, if i'm wrong, wouldn't it be worth it, anyhow?

you'd love to go to a first life club. all the people, all the loud music, the dance floor. i don't dance much myself, but i can hang in the bar while you do. i wouldn't mind a drinkie. i'd bring you to a lake, too, or to the sea, it's not very far. there are sensations to bathing that you can probably not imagine. floating. being immersed in coolish stuff that you can feel on your skin. getting wet and sand sticking to your feet. we'd go to a forest or a park, just to smell the air. and we'd have ice cream.

wouldn't you like that. just for one day.

xoxo

e."

Control

Another one has come to claim control. Oh, should I even bother to care. It's just one more. There has been Mia, of course. And god. There has been the general moralist league meaning to impose its First Life norms upon me and others. There once was a vampire who messaged me about how he'd topple me over with his gaze and then ravish me, saying I'd like him in control and get ever so turned on. He didn't know much, that one, did he. Some brat demanded courtesy from me because he claimed to own the sim where I was skinny-dipping. He had approached me, into close range, to warn me from littering. What do you reply to such a thing? Courtesy? Handed him my towel for behind his ears. Then there was the horrid little man saying I should not sleep with girls, and next the same man saying I should not be a witch. And now this E. The Angel. Welcome to join the crowd. Make me do things.

Omg, I shouldn't forget the most important one. Myself. I am in control, right. Am I not?

Now, there are other ways of controlling, too. Pricing for example – sell some nice and desirable object at X lindens and make avis camp for Y hours to buy it. Put a big bloody ugly sign on top of your house and make your neighbours move, or buy you out. Put a big bloody sign in front of your house saying "No dogs allowed!" and make furries change appearance. Put up a sign saying "Ladies only" and make guy avis transvestites. Especially if you add "Free drinks and nudity inside".

Another way of controlling what I do, indirectly and subtly, is making me think. Some avatars have done so. Caulfield. Aimee. Ozark. Flannery. Fish. Others, too. Their intention has probably not been controlling me, but the result has been that. Oh yes, making someone think is controlling in a way, even though you don't know what the outcome is gonna be. It's like seeing a red button, putting your finger on it and deciding whether to press or not, not knowing what will happen if you do. A light may switch on. A secret door may open. A nuclear bomb may go off, killing millions. You control what will happen. One of those things. Or nothing, because you didn't press or the button wasn't connected to anything. As far as you can see.

Making someone think should be an exciting thing. My experience is limited, because the one thing I make others think is usually "oh come on". But, say, if you were to listen to others discussing and then, at the very end, add "it's a bit like quantum mechanics"... that would set them thinking, and whatever happens after that can not be predicted. It's like throwing a bottle with a letter into the ocean, hoping someone will find it one day and reply. ("Hello, Serval, my name is Ohbanana and I'd like to meet you to discuss..." Or "Those who fear the Unknown should not read any further, nor should they search for the Treasure..." But not "mmmmm".) It's like entering a pitch-dark giant hall in a forlorn castle, whispering "is anyone here?" and hoping you will make no one answer.

Yes

"yes.

including quantum mechanics.

xoxo

e."

Nooo

No. "Those things I make you do"? Nooo.

("It´s an orchestra of angels and they are playing with my heart."
That's what Annie Lennox once said. Is this her? Nooo?)

xoxo

"i am your angel, serval.

well, and your god. and was mia. litreture profester too, once. human most of the time, but never an avatar. never a black cat. as i can't squeeze myself into wires or inventories. would love to come and dance with you, but can't. i can only be there through diaries, emotions and those things i make you do.

xoxo

e."

Chatter

Come on. This is no fun any more. My diary is becoming like a public toilet, open for everyone. To speak in, that is. So it's not really like a toilet, that was a metafour. But I have no idea how they do it, this seemingly endless number of avatars, gods, humans and probably even inventory objects that keep speaking into it. Would it surprise me if the Black Cat Avatar, which really is an object, spoke it's heart out next? Sobbing, like, wishing for something else, dreaming of whiteness or of becoming transfer and modify?

I messaged the Linden guys to file a complaint about this matter with all sorts of agents compromising the privacy of my diary. They came back to me, saying "Dear E., we can see you have a problem, oh yes we can, but maybe not exactly the problem you're mentioning." In a postscript they asked if I was interested in buying a sim.

Do those guys know how much a sim costs? Probably not. I'd say that if I summed all lindens I've ever had, and if I knew how to do that, it would probably be less than the price of a sim. And you know what the others say? They say that you have to buy the sim over and over again, or someone will take it away from you. That's a really bad deal, isn't it. Let's say I buy a dress and wear it in a club. Then comes the shopowner and tells me to pay a second time, and if I don't, poof, there I am, naked in the middle of the dance floor. Come on. So I won't buy the sim. Omg, they don't get many things right, do they.

Now, who's next? Is the horrible little man gonna start speaking here, saying I'm bad bad bad? More gods? Another letter? F? X? The only one that doesn't seem interested in my diary is that angel that's supposed to come and help me. Haven't seen it. Haven't heard a word from it. It's probably just a hoax. Or maybe there just isn't enough bandwidth to get through this noisy chatter.

I bet next one to speak here will claim to do so from behind the veil, from the other side, from the Third Life, making scary noises hoping to make me pay lindens to make it stop.

Friends

"oh, i know i've been neglecting sl friends, and still am. and letting some down, especially those ones that are truly important. it's hard keeping up good friendships when you don't give them the time required and deserved.

rl, or the first world of mia's, has attractions that the next world just can't match. and during the present season, when nights are just brief moments and the days endlessly long, and when the whole world that has been crouching in the cold darkness for ages all of a sudden has gone high on sunshine and endorphines, lush, blossoming, warm, well, that's when the sl bikini seems such a silly thing compared to the rl one. here, on the island of australia where serval placed mia, which btw wasn't quite correct, but you can't expect such a poor pet avi to get everything right, can you, summer means not clicking the sl icon, but switching off the computer and getting the hell out of indoors as much as you can.

(i was gonna put some pictures of mine here, showing a sailing boat in sunshine just off the coast, fresh cool water splashing on a rock a hot and sunny day, and a forest lake seen glittering through a curtain of foreground trees. but i won't, leaving the photography to serval only. but you may get the picture anyhow.)

thus time to spend on friends is limited. it's very limited. there is a choice, of course. being devoted to sl or not. i'm obviously not. because i can obviously live without it. and live quite well, enjoying myself tremendously and doing so both in and out of the city, in and out of the water, in and out of the light summer clothes, whites, oh so much white. and hey, what happens to my skin? it's sort of turning brownish. gonna logon next thing? i don't think so.

i should hate myself for neglecting my inworld friends, but i just can't. the warm sun on my skin, the outdoor cafés full of people, ice creams melting and dripping on my hand, lush parks and that forest lake in the picture you won't see, they make me a bad friend. i'm sorry. but i won't change. it's the season of rl.

then there is the new job and new hours, a new place to stay and live, a big city, new people that i've met and some old too. everything has changed. can't logon. won't. gotta live.

e."

Nurse etc

The others say I'm becoming more and more nurseycystic in my diary. I know them well by now and know that they enjoy using complicated expressions that I don't understand and that make me feel stupid and small, especially when it happens over and over again. And here's yet another one. I have no idea what they mean. Sure, I've been dressing as a nurse in events a few times (and once even as a patient, all wrapped in bandages and plaster), but I have never mentioned that in my diary, have I, and there are no pictures of me as a nurse, are there? No, I've focused on speaking about important things that have happened to me and on showing many pictures of normal me. And the cysticism beats me too. They probably invented that word only to have a good laugh at me trying to figure out wth they meant by saying so. I wish that angel had been here already to guide me through these vocabulary problems. I wonder what's keeping it, why it's not here yet.

Pickup

A club. Avatars. Music. A Serval. Guy enters chat range.

Guy: "mmmm"

Serval:

Guy: "may i offer friendship?"

Serval: "no ty"

Guy: "i wanna spank u hard"

Serval: "don't"

Guy: "wanna slow dance?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "u look like [famous person goes here]"

Serval: "ty i guess"

Guy: "i'm a complete misanthrope"

Serval:

Guy: "i hate the people here in this club"

Serval: "ty"

Guy: "i'm a fucking mess"

Serval: "i know"

Guy: "what's ur rl name?"

Serval: "don't ask"

Guy: "where u from?"

Serval: "don't ask"

Guy: "fuck conversation"

Serval: "let's"

Guy: "i like ur profile"

Serval: "why?"

Guy: "it's fucking hot"

Serval: "how?"

Guy: "have u read my profile?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "i wanna go somewhere else"

Serval: "pls do"

Guy: "wanna go somewhere else?"

Serval: "no"

Guy: "mmmmmmm"

Tats

There was a tattoo event tonight in the club, and I was considering going there to hear some music, maybe chat a little and to show off my butterflies tat that I was already wearing. Oh, I wasn't gonna win the event with that one, that's for sure, because tattoos are big and important and everyone has grand, massive tats that could shake the very foundation of SL. Except for me. I just have tiny little ones, like the butterflies one, which I find cute. And you don't win tats events being cute.

I eventually decided not to go, ending up somewhere else where I snapshot myself. Which was most fortunate. Not the snapshotting part of it, but the not going part. Because looking at that picture I saw that I was wearing the butterflies outside my mesh top. Hey, humans, if you're there listening! That means wearing clothes beneath a tattoo. You can't do that, can you? You probably would if you could, but not me unless by mistake. I'm an avatar and there are certain standards. So:

Serval: "omg"

Serval: "/me blushes"

Serval: "/me quickly switches shirt layer to undershirt layer and vice versa"

Well, the moral of my speech so far is, well, none. It's all just to show off my butterflies. And the dress, which I like too.

Poetry

I lied last time I spoke into my diary about the reactions on the poetry. There were no IMs saying others liked it. They all spoke of crap, stupidity and discontinuation. And the same has now happened again, after publishing that second poem. Which would have burnt a black hole in my heart, had they been true attempts of mine, words right out of that same heart. Which they weren't. So there was no burning whatsoever.

That first piece is made up of the fifth word in each one of all my previous diary speeches, in reverse cronolodgeic order. (Yes, I can count to one two three four five now, and that's why I chose the fifth word.) And the second one is done the same way, but from Mia's speeches. So it's a kind of recycling, which we all need to think seriously about, because they say the world is threatened by all of us wasting the resources. So I did my little share in saving the world.

There have also been speeches of this god avi in my diary. If I was to do yet another poem out of those words, same style, it would turn out as follows:

ARE YOU ARE ARE ARE U

When I told the others, they looked at me, long looks, and for the first time ever they didn't lol.

Now, If I was to write poetry for real it would be good stuff rather like this:

Oh why oh why
are the linden dollars gone?
Those were just single steps
through doors unlocked
by my gazing eyes
searching for object prey.
Hairs, pants, tops and shoes
click, click, click, click, gone.

Metre

A number of my fellow avatars have IMed me about the poetry. Saying they love it. Saying they called in sick after listening to it. Saying they don't quite understand, but hey, that's the beauty of art, isn't it, and I'm such a little thing they'd flatter me as much as it takes any day, mmmmmm. A litreture profester even asked me for my metre, and I answered him politely that I don't know how to check that, but I know that my rl puppet is 1.66. Oh my, I hope he's not gonna ask about Cat's, too, because I can't really go check that with him, can I? And my numbers aren't good enough to recount the inches into metres, anyhow.

The others say that the response to that single piece of poetry was more impressive than that of my ejection campaign, to which I answer nothing. Those ignorant fools know little of art, don't they. Instead, to please my fans, here's more:

"day town now to serval
serval to be guy
those little isn't asked
been yesterday now for in year
first no, my has again time
has be would i'm give serval little
but rebelling wine tomorrow's
and speaking at good a the a went"

Into

Mistaken that thing again
into devil, very innocence
me listening about
but is the approach an found called new.
Are, or place again may
news garden, unstable I club
oh, that that the formal
to happy why my sudden rules
asked not Serval
the some day week.
Mia are club sanctuary
be clue to complain about
are that like my place
place Serval to at it
picture guy zebras a.
It's social, forward, finishing me
what the Mia to, to now?
This about predicted there event
new the is is if
it's how all myself enjoy fashion tonight
bit from of OK but empty club
looking, dance the not thought.
Mia been the bought
can a it friends say lot lot it rocking
I to group from when to sick allright
pad speak blacked difference
I special of days can.

Electricity

I may have been mistaken after all.

After listening to that message from the unknown angel once again I decided to go the whole hog. Put a formal dress on. Put some nice makeup on. However you do that. And wear an updone hair. The new and guided serval was to be born, and the trash to go out the door to leave room for religious insights.

When I was just about to get going I got a new IM from the angel.

Unknown angel: "mmmmmmmmm.... ur soh hot!!!! more pix pls!!!!!! takum heels off n rubbem on ur pussy!!!!!! mmmmmmmm!!!"

That's got something to do with electricity, hasn't it, rubbing kittens with things? You rub and rub for a long time, and then you have just enough electricity for a little spark. Not more, really, than when wearing latex shorts when you straddle the back of the couch and then touch metal for extra fireworks.

Anyhow, this is where I began having doubts. I didn't expect my guide to do the mmmmmms. I didn't like it doing them. So I made the others listen to the message, and they lolled and said it was probably a fallen angel, which they then explained was someone who does not do religious guiding very well. In this case, they said, it was some guy who gets his kicks out of shoes. Which makes sense. Had he gotten them from the kittens... wow, for good kicks, just imagine the size of them. Aww, lookilooki such a lil cutie kitten... GREEOWWWWL.

Because of all that I decided against formals in the future. I almost fell a couple of times myself wearing those heels, and don't mind not wearing them any more.

Angel

I have to admit that I'm a little bit confused. Who did that? I mean, who spoke that into my diary? It's not Mia, because she doesn't speak any more, I think. Because her voice is now mine. So who?

And what about those things said... humans, First Life an all? I dunno what to think of that.

Then, too, I got this IM from someone unknown saying that I always dress extremely casual (a slight variation on the trash theme of Mia's, but once again, it can't be her, can it) and that I would benefit from dressing up, not least as to footwear.

Unknown: "shame 2 c a qte hun like u not in heels, omg ud be so 6y!!!!! show it 2 me!!!!"

At first I found that message quite strange, until remembering the "I WILL SEND YOU AN ANGEL TO GUIDE YOU". (Sorry about the noise level.) Is this the angel? I've seen some avis called Angel, and oc seen a lot of angels around in Angels & Demons events. But I don't really know how they are supposed to speak or what they say. Maybe this unknown avi is the one, the angel sent to me. To guide me. Starting the guiding this way, telling me I should wear heels. I suppose it could be. An angel sending IMs to make me better and more interesting and attractive, perhaps? I could do with that.

Ok, I have some problems with these god, angel, First Life etc matters. But I have sort of half accepted now that there is a First Life. Of which I know nothing really. The religion. But what if this unknown is the angel and means to help me understand? To show me the truth? Can I chuck such a helping hand away? Am I not better safe that sorry? Shouldn't I just play along?

I am better safe than sorry. So let there be heels. I've heard of heeling before in religious contexts, so this may be the first step. An unfamiliar, staggering step, I admit, because I rarely wear them. But I do have them in my inventory. So I'll show.

And btw, I am not looping endlessly, tyvm!