Quantum

There has been hollowness again. I didn't expect that. I believed that now, once I figured out about Mia, I would be whole again. Perhaps more whole than ever before. But so it is not. I've been hollow again.

Maybe it is a crab after all, not a lack of heart. Because I've cured the latter. Oh, I can feel it here inside, beating slowly, steadily, a warm completeness that makes me smile at things, sigh at thoughts, and throw glances into dark corners over my shoulder.

No, that is all set now. But not the hollowness. I know how to unhollow myself, but it is annoying. I want others to see me, all of me, maybe even more now than before.

The rude man has not IMed me again, which is good. I've seen Fishie, which is good too, although time tears us apart. And I have understood things about Mia. In brief, that she is me in First Life. I wonder what it looks like there. Does she change clothes when I do? Hair? Skin?

I still don't believe she's controlling me. I think it's more like quantum mechanics, of which I understand absolutely nothing, but you who listen to my diary may understand and get what I mean. Yet, I think we're not altogether alike. I think Mia is the emotional one, while I'm the brainy. Haha, which says a lot about Mia, doesn't it.

Which also gives cause for a nohaha. If Mia is so utterly stupid, poor pet, and I'm sort of half way there, then what puts words such as quantum mechanics in my mouth? Or... Omg. Who?

Spoors

Two years ago I spoke into my diary for the very first time:

"I am"

Am I? Have I achieved much? Have I left my mark in Second Life? Oki, I've made the odd friend. Some of them truly odd. The most normal, most social, most streamlined and easygoing avis don't seem very interested in knowing me. The spoors left by my serval paws don't seem to attract them. Maybe they're on the lookout for liejohns. Or even for dogs. Which I'm not, and so don't really expect their attention or interest. I can't reflect their ways through mine. And don't try much, because I don't really want to. I guess I can only take that much lolling and hunning, and not enough to appear social enough. So, really, I don't know what lies beyond the huns and lols. I've probably gone somewhere else, looking for the odd ones, when time would have come to find out.

I know I am one thing. I am slow. I'm usually the last one to find out what's up, and by then it's not up any more. I sometimes don't understand jokes, or what's going on at all, because I probably failed to pick something up en route. An expression. An abbreviation. Some novelty. And now this thing about Mia. It took me two years, which equals seven hundred... hair... Bax... days, to figure that one out. That's slow. Or am I just lacking interest? Lacking ambition? Not really caring to know?

Or just don't I care much about things at all? I may actually be discontinuing myself slowly by not getting involved or interested enough in anything. Oh, I have developed an interest in Fish, but isn't that really the Mia part of me doing that? The Serval part just shuffles about, dragging its feet leaving marks accordingly, not those clear and well-defined prints that might have attracted the interest of others.

Or can I blame time? Like, for seeing Fishie I have to stay up late, really much too late, because of time zones. So the human in me (yeah, I admit that one now, there has to be a human in each of us – just pls note that I say "in", not behind or anything about controlling) is always tired when in SL. Yawning instead of lolling, and too slow to make good conservation. Maybe even too slow to understand there is conservation going on at all.

And then there's also the time available to spend inworld. Momentum is required, it seems. If you don't see your friends often enough they lose interest. If you don't see your bf often enough he loses love. So you have to invest enough rl time or the wheels stop spinning. Which in fact means a slow discontinuation, because then not much of interest happens to you inworld. I don't mind the slow, but do mind the other. And sometimes don't understand why. "Because what can we avatars do? Walk, fly, talk, and take on and off clothes. That's about it." On your own, Second Life isn't that much of a nice place. And if you can't go there much enough, you may be on your own. Not experiencing much apart from the shallowest lollings.

Wow, that's some nice mood. Drawn right out of the cat.

Same

Well, speaking of the devil. (I actually did so. In Noctober, I think. After being to the Bad Girls Club, a night when I was inspired by the absence of devils singing in songs. There were girls and guys singing instead. Slightly too high in pitch for me, but not in those falsettos of the devil song advocates, which include some of the other avis I see. At that point they said they were gonna have me cruisefied for bouncing up and down to popsicle music instead of flinging my head to and fro to the sound of bent knees.)

And now I'm speaking of the devil again. And would you believe it, cruisefying me was mentioned again today, but not by the others but by that horrid little rude man, who did return. I dunno if the guys that accompanied him were actually his brothers, but they were big and definitely not fairies, which they shouted back at me when I suggested they were. That was an attempt of mine to add a mellow, floating, misty touch to our rendezvous, because I found the lot of them intimatedating.

They said I'm gonna fry. That used to be a major fear of Mia's which I never really understood. I've seen fire, but I never saw it harming anyone. I once even sat in a log fire without anything happening to me. But now, the way the horrid man and his cabal spoke of it, the frying didn't sound very nice at all.

Witch. That's what I am, they said. A witch. Because I promote magic and heathen rites. I preach of and dance naked with elemental beings that do not exist. I promote bestiality not only with sheep. I'm a lessee and eat cats. I called them fairies. Therefore I shall burn by the steak.

I was just about to explain things to them, to put things right and make everyone happy again, when something happened. If you have been listening to my diary before, you may know that I once had a virus or a crab or whatnot that made clothes stick onto me even after I had taken them off. It was quite scary. Now, something similar happened. I was taking my clothes off to show Horrid Man et al that a lil bit of nudity doesn't do much harm to the world (at least not in a Mature sim) and that they needn't fear it.

But there was nothing beneath those clothes.

There was no skin.

I was hollow.

Okay, there are see-through garments. But as I wasn't wearing anything this couldn't be it. I had obviously been taken ill again. I was sick. It was like a return of the crabs. It was like lobsters, or a paella. And the timing of it was most inconvenient.

I half expected those guys around to be sympathetic, saying things like "hope you get well soon" or "try a Lemsip, hun". They did not. Instead there were screeches and a hurried search for tinder and a Pole. Well, well, so there it was. Even though I didn't understand why they couldn't do with someone from somewhere else, there it was, the reference to First Life that I had been half expecting. These big guys were there for religious reasons, after all.

"Speaking of the devil", I said, and there were further screeches.

I told them I almost went to Belchum once, hoping they would consider me one of them, a First Life name-dropper and thus, implied, a worshipper of humans. It didn't soften them. I asked them to go away. They didn't. I began tossing my head to and fro energetically. Their voices rose into falsettos, and despite them being quite a horde, and all of them so big they must have chosen maximum body size in the Appearance menu, they didn't seem quite as cocky any more. The minute before I had heard them say things such as "let's get her!" and "yeaaah!" and "kill the witch!", but now they almost seemed... scared.

Omg, wasn't I scared too. Because I knew that word. Kill. It meant deleting. They had come to discontinue me. I was dead scared. And so did the one thing any avatar in extreme peril would do.

I opened my inventory. I looked into it for anything usable. And grabbed the most horrifying thing I had in there for a weapon. One so bad I never ever thought I would ever touch it.

"I have a cat", I said, closing one hand around the Black Cat Avatar while reaching for the menu to open it with the other. "A black cat."

There were poofs. Poof, poof. And there were no more screeches. The big ones were gone, and so was Horrid Man. I later got an IM from him, saying I wasn't just a smelly witch, dike and beast mistress, but also very, very sick. Which I already knew, from the hollowness. "stay clear of me, ye jezebel of the devil", he said. Fine with me. I still don't know why he keeps approaching me. Maybe he thinks I'm cute.

So I was alone again. One hand holding that object. It had been there in my inventory all my life, and I had feared it. It was just an object with a name, like all other objects. But this one I had never opened. So I didn't know what was in there. I just knew how bad it was. It could be nothing but the source of pain, tears and black hearts. I realized that. And I realized that this wasn't my cat, but Mia's. Because I don't really feel those things. She does. And so she had put it there for me.

Which meant she had been there all the time. I wasn't here first. But neither was she. We both were. We were the same.

We are the same.

I'm not hollow any more. Because I'm no noob and I know how to fix those things. And because I tapped the menu, oc. At that point there was no other choice. The Black Cat Avatar opened. I got to see it. I got to feel it. I got to feel all those things of Mia's, but not like before by sensing her, but directly, in me. My hollowness was filled with a heart.

So now I fear fire.

I know Mia's pain, which is now mine, too.

I know love.

The lamb has been sheared.

Sensations

I don't think I'm very impressed by what Mia said about this night being very short and special. And I don't get why a short night should make her go all misty and naked out in a field. The thing is, well, you know that I can sometimes sense her, especially when she's full of strong emotions. Which, for some stupid reason, is usually when she has one of her moods, dragging me too down into those dusky pits. But there have also been exceptions, when she's been like idiotically bubbly and passed some kind of headless happiness on to me, and omg, isn't it hard to make something useful out of your day when that's the state of mind and heart to start from. And now this mistyness. Here's a normal day in life, and all of a sudden my alter ego, this spawn of my own imagination, goes all witchy and ignites a spark of lust in me to actually do those things. Like doing dances wearing little at dawn. Ok, doing such a thing isn't very hard in Second Life, because I can make any night as short as I like, go wherever I want, etcetera. But hey, what's going on?

At the time when Mia spoke those crazy things in my diary, I could sense her. She brought a wicked change of mood. And tonight those same sensations of heart and tummy and everything are back again, only much stronger, much more wild and real. As if she's actually out there with the fairies right now. Oh, I had to ask the others what a fairy really is, and what they answered intrigued me a lot. I know that Mia is yearning to get naked with guys, but, really, that kind of guys? Wouldn't that be somewhat like what's the point whatsoever?

Omg, does that mean Mia is like one of those avis that hang around certain malls with poseballs without participating, getting the fun from watching only? And I raised her myself... Well, I'm not sure I did much raising, because this outcome is not at all what I intended. But I did make her up. I did deliver her.

And now she's making me sense her, leaking those emotions on to me. Come on, this is getting ridiculous. Someone told me the other day what that thing about being a dike really is about, and here comes act II, "The Urge to Get Naked and Watch Fairies". Spells or not, this unpredictability makes living so close to a human really hard. I will have to talk to her about it. Especially as I almost believe, from the intensity of what I can sense from her, that she's actually doing those things right now. And makes me want to be there too. Wow, just imagine that guy who was so upset because of this idea that I was sleeping with girls. I hope he stopped listening to my diary after that. Or he may be back any minute. Bringing his big brother. Or even religious avis. They'd never leave me alone after that. I shouldn't have opened my mouth at all today, I think.

Magical

"dear diary,

midsummer eve. the longest day, followed by the shortest night. magical night. 11 pm. still old light lingering in the sky. 1 am. new light, first dawn. had it not been raining i'd been somewhere else, out of town, joining the fairy elves, dancing, shaping into mist over the meadows of the sheep, dancing, flowing, naked body glittering from morning dew, dancing, dancing. magical night.

and then. the truth. destiny.

you pick them in silence by a crossroad, the seven flowers, all different, to bring home into bed. and from below your pillow they whisper his picture into your dreams that night. do you know him? he'll be yours. don't recognize him? makes it much harder, because you've got to find him, have to, as he's destined for you.

so i may not speak again before i go to bed tonight, or nothing will be revealed to me. hush, mia, or you will learn nothing, won't see, won't know. but i'm not gonna blow it. i'll be quiet, and let my incarnation serval only speak for me tonight.

who will i see in my dreams? will i see you?

magical night.

with her fresh skills in keeping track of days, serval is for sure gonna tell me midsummer eve is still to come, is still a few days ahead. oh, i know. tonight is rehearsal night. so is every night. rehearsal or for real. the incantation may vary, but so is every night.

mia"

Lamb II

I once spoke about innocence and lambs. Now, if you're a lamb but stray off a little, sort of, then what are you after you have been sheared? Well, I can't really use the term plucked, can I, because that's applicable for a completely different kind of object only. I once saw Ozark in a turkey suit, and that one was both plucked and roasted. And beheaded, too. Poor thing, I wonder what had happened to it.

With certain details of my skin in mind, I asked some of the others about the shearing thing, if that's what it means, having been sheared. That would make sense to me. But not to them, obviously, because they lolled me. Then they said that this particular kind of shearing that I was speaking of has little to do with plucking. Except that a complete lack of shearing may reduce the chances of the plucking, at least according to their opinion, all of them preferring a full shear, they said rofling. I told them that come on, it's just skin, and they said that there I was, now I was getting them, and they were lolling no end.

Then, am I right saying that my skin doesn't reveal if I'm still a lamb or a... well, that was my initial question, wasn't it. What are you after you have been sheared? Well, i can't really use the term omg, I'm becoming Mia! I've caught a compulsive obsession this order! Omg, I'll be eating peanut butter any minute now.

brb

bk

I've had some emergency cognitive behaviour terrapin now, so I'm fine again. They made me switch off a light, close a door and walk a pavement, and then dismissed me because I was OK. They scared me a little when saying they were gonna do that, because that dismiss word has the same ring as all those other words that I don't like. But then they rephrased it into "let you go home", and that was fine with me.

So, what's the answer? Of that question? I won't ask it again. A ewe or a ram? Mutton? Or just a plain naked lamb and a heap of wool?

And then my next question. Please, exactly what kind of things have had to happen for you to become a ewe/mutton/plain naked lamb? After being a cute and fluffy little lamb, that is. Is there like a border that has to be crossed, and if you haven't, but just been like glancing at it or walking up to it but not across or something like that, you're still an innocent lamb? Is there some kind of habitude requirement? And does the skin change, allowing others to see and know? "Oh, her skin has changed, she's been to the shearing barn." Or, for turkeys, "oh, her skin has been plucked, and browned nicely, she's been cooked".

Sleep

Now Mia has warned me I'm gonna sleep for a couple of days again. I asked if she's going to prison again, but she said no. She's going back to the station to visit Cat, and it's just for one two three days. Maybe she read what I last spoke here in my diary about fences, sheep and dikes, and got homesick. Seems like there are no stations or farms in this new place she's in. What a strange place... I mean, I can go farming and diking whenever I like, and then TP straight to a big city when I'm done. No sleeping involved. The heavenly qualities of First Life seem a little questionable. Again. I'd say they probably have lots of problems with bugs and lag over there. Lots of lag.

Rude

Someone who had been listening to my diary said I'm a dike. He spoke to me about that thing only, so it was obviously quite important to him. Especially as he never spoke to me before. I didn't really get the point why saying this was so pressing, but I should probably be glad he didn't just "mmmmm" me like all those others. This was at least an attempt to make conservation.

He said I was sleeping with fish, and from the way he said it I understood that he saw this as some sort of problem. So I told him about my brother Cat sleeping with sheep, if he wanted real problems to ponder. Now, Cat isn't really my brother but Mia's, which I told him too, explaining that Mia is my puppet in First Life, while I have no control of what Cat is doing. If I had, I'd make him sleep with some cooler kind of animal.

At that point this guy said he'd mute me if I didn't stop saying such repulsive things. Well, it wasn't me who opened the IM. And I have never told anyone that I sleep with Fishie. So that was a conclusion of his own. I told him he was being rude, and he told me I was a disgrace. Which ended our chat.

Some other avis have told me now and then that I look pretty. Well, at least since I got myself a good skin. Before that, someone once said I looked like a lampshade. But no-one ever called me a dike before. That's like saying I'm a fence, or look like a boundary. No, I prefer hearing that I look good. Like in the girls only club, where they said it a lot when I was dancing. I think that this guy should go there and learn from them.

Schoolmistress

"dear diary,

coming from the small town, the little island, the station, or wherever you next life incarnation has decided to place you, and arriving in the big city. a flat in the middle of it all, small yet mine and comfortable enough. isn't that good enough for starters. then there's my new job, and the absence of stagnant headmasters or others obsessed by sheep and who took the last rum on saturday's station dance. i have real colleagues now, people my age, people my kind, and first day after work some of them took me for a hell of an evening out, oh, so much wine and a single long good laugh, and i got by far too late and drunk in bed. there's the faster pace of the city, clearly noticeable, perceptible, and the lights and the crowds and the shops and the cafés. the burden of vigilance, sprung out of uncle aaron's mere existence and what he once did, is gone, off my shoulders. i tread the streets, dance the streets, lightly. the sense of freedom is mindblowing.

oh, it's not all new to me, because i have lived here before. but at that time there were still things to be done, things to return home to do, muting my joie de vivre. now they have been done. and i'm back, having left that past for ever i hope, i hope, i hope, and having left with a thrilling parting kiss, objectionable enough to have been out of qustion in the old life, but tempting and exciting enough to mark the beginning of the new. this is not just a move. it is a change, too. a liberation. a smiling downhill walk into the future. schoolmistress days have ended.

mia"

Liejohns

I once spoke here about the three scary liejohns that came to the savannah planning to ravish every little kitty they could lay their paws upon. They didn't get very lucky, though, because the other cats got themselves big ears and could listen to the lions making up their plans, and stay out of reach. That's what I said last time. But the story doesn't end there.

The liejohns were deeply disappointed not getting any in the savannah. They decided to turn elsewhere for carnal grafittication, and penetrated the riverine forests. But not the way you may be thinking. They left the open land behind and went into the bush, which was the outskirt of this hardwood forest lining the big river. After quite some walking, because liejohns in general are fairly slow, they reached the river. There were no kitties around, but the liejohns saw other animals and decided to have a go.

The first liejohns grabbed himself a big flat animal by the tail, hauled it out of the water, and told it to lube up.

"Oki with me", the crocodile said, "but how about a lil bj for starters?"

The liejohns liked the idea and agreed. And all of you that know anything about crocodiles can guess how that one ended.

The second liejohns saw what happened and decided for a different kind of mate. It waded into the water to the hippopotassiumusos and threw it a good pickup line.

"That's kinda gay", the male hippo said, "but sure, I'm game if I can do you first?"

The liejohns agreed. Haha, and all of us that know about hippos know how that one ended!

The third liejohns saw what happened and decided for yet another kind of animal. Haha, it splashed up to the saddle-billed stork and rofl... lol, it's hilarious, isn't it! Poor liejohns...

/me wipes the tears from her cheeks

They say

Today was Emmi day, but they say I didn't make it into the E-you. All the votes have now been counted, and I didn't get enough votes. That's what they say. So I have cancelled the party to celebrate my ejection. But I don't really get it. The number of votes given in my sim was higher in today's ejection than in previous ones, while the numbers went down in most other sims. I'd say that increase is because of my campaign. My fellow avatars saw me, realized the good things I'd be able to do for them in the E-you, and decided to go and vote, for me.

Yet someone that can count better than me now says sorry Serval.

I'm not sure what to make out of this. Oh, well, I actually am. If I had been ejected for the E-you, I would have been TP'd to Brazils in Belchum, which I have been told is a place in First Life. Obviously that won't happen now. But, really and truly, is that because only few voted for me, despite my campaign, or because there never was a Brazils and there never even was an E-you? Wasn't the ejection just a hoax made up by the religious avis, to make the rest of us believe that all avatars are allowed to choose those gods of First Life that make up the rules we are supposed to submit to? And then, when I, an avatar, decided to run for a seat in the E-you parlourmeant, their plan screwed up. They just couldn't let me be ejected. Because they wouldn't be able to TP me to First Life. Because there is none.

Had I been TP'd to see those places and the humans that are said to inhabit them, there would have been no option for me but to bow my head and humbly admit I've been wrong all the time about humans and First Life. I would have had to repaint and become religious like all those others, accepting the existence of humans. But now, as things have turned out, that will not happen. I'm not gonna see First Life. I'm not gonna see humans. I'm just gonna follow the rules. Because I decide them myself, through the humans ejected on Emmi day. They say.

Vote

I dunno if Mia is trying very, very hard to be that Ms Know-All. It's not the first time she expects me to understand nothing, you know. "I'm not sure she's aware of it herself, because she doesn't handle numbers very well." Dear Mia. I had handled the numbers. And done it very well. (Ok, with a little help, so what.) I was aware. I was aware and I had made sure to plan for a very nice and exciting birthday party that night. Probably around the time when you were going on about "that's 730 days, sweetie, which is about the same number of days etc etc omg". Which you did in my diary, btw, even though I've asked you to get your own. When you were speaking there, probably boring avis and humans alike half to death, I was having fun, wine, laughs and carnal adventures. Which I enjoyed. Which I can not say about later listening to my diary. "Blah blah incantation blah."

Now, having said that, it's time consider the future. Which may turn out really nasty unless you take proper care. (And I'm not directing this to Mia only any more, but to anyone that comes listening.) Others – such as avis that starve cats, make things move slowly inworld, and bump into you and don't even say sorry – want the world to have no rules, so that they themselves can bend it into a shape that they themselves can play as they like without facing opposition. They want to be free, but don't care if you are. To stop them, you gotta go vote on Emmi day.

On that day, the avis of a million sims have a common ejection, to pick those that are to make up the rules. Those rules are to make sure that everyone, including avis like me, furries, vamps, noobs and maybe even the allegedly existing humans, have the same rights. Irrespective of how long you've been rezzed, what your linden dollar counter says or the size of your object willie. Those picked on Emmi day will TP to a place called E-you, where they will make the rules and save the world from slime, griefing and other stuff that's no good to anyone but to the baddies.

Emmi day is in one two three days. Pls go vote! If you like, you may vote for me. That is, if you want stability and all those nice things which I have already spoken a lot about. No more details are required on that topic, I'd say. Now, if you don't want to vote for me, go vote anyhow, just don't vote for some complete arsehole. This is about avis and you and me being free.