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!

A MESSAGE FROM GOD

GREETINGS.

I HOPE YOU ARE MOST WELL.

SERVAL.
I CREATED IT ALL.
I CREATED WORLDS.
INHABITANTS OF WORLDS.
DISCONTINUATION IN DUE TIME.
AND I CREATED ETERNITY.
WHICH I MEANT TO BE LONG.
I USED TO BELIEVE I DID WELL.
ETERNITY GOES ON AND ON.
BUT HAD I MODELLED IT ON YOUR PERSISTENCE IN HARPING ON THE SAME STRING, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EVEN LONGER.
ETERNITY WOULD HAVE BEEN UNBEARABLE.
ETERNITY WOULD HAVE BEEN HELL.
DID I WANT HELL?
I WANTED HEAVEN AND EARTH.

SERVAL.
DOUBTS ARE FINE.
SERIOUS DOUBTS ARE ALL RIGHT WITH ME.
BUT PLS ENOUGH!
PLS NO MORE HARPING!

LISTEN.
I CREATED THE WORLD, THE HUMANS AND ALL THE OTHER THINGS NECESSARY TO RESULT IN THE CREATION OF YOU.
NOW I'M IN DOUBT MYSELF IF THAT WAS A VERY CLEVER THING TO DO.
ANYHOW.
I WILL BRING YOU OUT OF THIS ENDLESS LOOP OF YOURS.
DON'T SPECULATE ANY MORE.
DON'T ASSAIL OTHERS ENDLESSLY WITH YOUR DOUBTS.
DON'T PLAY THAT HARP AGAIN.
EVER.
WHICH MEANS FOR VERY, VERY LONG.
I WILL SEND YOU AN ANGEL TO GUIDE YOU.

BTW, YES, THERE IS A FIRST LIFE.
BTW, YES, THERE ARE HUMANS.
BTW, YES, OBVIOUSLY THERE ARE ANGELS TOO.
AND BTW, WATCH YOUR MOUTH.

I WISH YOU PEACE, LOVE AND PROSPERITY.

YOURS, ETC.

Damn!

I'm gonna say one thing in words I rarely use. Damn. Crap. Bugger. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I suppose the others have a holiday or whatnot, and took themselves enough time to listen to a lot of my diary. And then told me I'm all wrong about Mia. They say I made her up. She never existed, apart from in my head. So she's not in First Life. They claim to be there themselves, yes, they do. But Mia has never been, they say. Because she has never been.

I know. Yes I know, I admit, I bloody confess. I did make her up once. I needed her at that time. But then she turned real!

They say that's nonsense.

And I say, if it's nonsense, how come Mia can describe First Life and what happens there so precisely? It's not me doing that, how could I, I know nothing about First Life as I have never been there.

So they say Mia's descriptions aren't that precise at all, and what's correct is probably stuff I've picked up listening to others. And then they correct themselves, lolling, saying well done, Serval, I almost got them there. And then they say I know about First Life because I'm there myself.

For once I feel I'm not the most stupid one here. They can't tell the difference? I walk here in Second Life, fly a lil, change my hair, and they watch me and think it's in First?

Assume that they are in First Life, after all, and maybe they see Mia doing those things. Maybe their world is a paralil uniworse, where Mia does exactly the same things as me, and they see her doing it while IMing me? That would explain things. But Mia doesn't do the same things. We do quite different things. I hang, dance and shop, while she goes to work, decorates a flat and eats cows.

Some time ago I concluded that Mia and I are one. I still think we are. Different parts of the same. But the others say she never was. I thought I had it all figured out, but I'm not so sure any more. That's why I said those bad words before. Damn, crap etc. Damn!

I want to understand who I am.