Now boarding

The day has come! I'm off to First Life on flight 1001. And it's one way.
I met Fishie one last time. I cried a lot, hating that I won't see her again, ever. I really do love her. But she understands why I'm leaving. Thank you for coming to see me off, sötnos.
The others said I shouldn't leave, because they like SL a lot and so should I. But I'm off anyhow. I want to have all the fun in First Life. In Real Life. In Emmi life. Where there's tea and stuff.

So now the adventure moves on to First Life, and I'm all excited about it. Despite what I leave behind.

And you know, they say there are movies on board. And blankets. And little bags of peanuts, which I've been dying to try since the peanut guy spoke about them first time, such a long time ago.

Yes, this is where my real adventure begins.

If I didn't catch you to talk to you before today... tc. Thank you ever so much for your friendship. You know I've loved having you around, and the other way round. (The latter meaning being around you, because I can't really know about the other thing, you loving having me around, can I.)

Omg, they just spoke on the stream: "Passenger Boa, immediately go to the gate, or we will proceed to unload your luggage." Omg, where's the gate? What's a gate? Well, my legs are moving, so I guess I've got an angel still watching over me and handling this for me. She doesn't want me to miss my flight, I bet, or she won't have me around very soon. Where am I to sleep, btw? Will I have a bed of my own?

And, hey, "unload your luggage"? They can't, because I'm travelling with hand luggage only. Most of the stuff in my inventory was no transfer, so I had to leave it behind. I really didn't keep much of the rest, either, because there are shops irl, too, aren't there? So I gave stuff away. And I set the Black Cat Avatar free in one of the sims, because it can't come along. Just leave it alone if you see it. Don't keep it.

Here's where I should say brb. But that one won't work, will it. Neither will cu. I've had no problems whatsoever speaking before, but right now I find myself at a loss of words. I hate leaving. But love going. And more words won't change a thing.

tc

won't brb

/me boards, takes her seat, and, after ogling the tray of complimentary drinkies, poofs

Who

who can? without shedding tears.









not me.

1000

They say I've been alive for a thousand days. It's a lot, I know that much. Although not exactly how much. It can't be more than a million, or more than eighty, because you're supposed to live a million and eighty days, and then you're discontinued. I live, so I'm not that old yet.

Sure, I'm not that good counting. But I'm not stupid. Even without counting I can say that one thousand and one is the same as having one thousand and then have yet one more. Just one more. And that's tomorrow. And that's some special day!

Big log

time has come to log. the big, big log. serval is moving to first life for good, to join me and accompany me there.

it's a hard thing to do, but hasn't it to be done at some point anyhow? it can't go on and on for ever, can it? especially not just for the sake of it. for some time i've been keeping serval alive only to keep her alive. since those days together with fishie, sl life has been solitary. bonds to friends were lost during those months when fishie was the focus of attention, and since then, well, let's say that serval's social life has never recovered. the reason is partly that her human's social life mainly has been really, really nice, following a move to a city of good size, a new job with many young colleagues, and lots to do.

i recently decided to have one more go, and took serval to a club similar to the one where she once used to dance. that's where she had her one and only sl job, and where she met a number of very sweet avis and had such a good time.

serval is taller than her human. that wasn't intentional, but just happened and then stayed that way for a thousand days. but in this new club, she turned out to be a shortie. the other ladies were godzilla size (as to height), and wore high heels and long flowing hairs, all of them. none of them wore their c or d cups this particular day.

serval stood watching the goings on for a while, listening to the chat, and then left, concluding this was nonsense. i myself concluded that going to such places, or keeping up the lonely drifter and shopper kind of existence, would be just more waste of life.

to tease avid sl'ers, serval has now and then called sl a game. they promtly reply that sl isn't a game but a community. it seems to be an important distinction, as the game label is never left unchallenged. i myself don't think it's important whether you call it a game, a community, computer software or a waste of life. what matters is what you put into it and what you get out of it in return.

i used to get enough in return, but not any more. then, in rl, i've had so much in return just by being there. my heart, body and soul have been love bombed by first life. so to me, sl has become a waste of life computer software, which does offer communities, i admit, but serval has not found a place in one of them. to me that's a reason good enough to log.

i'm aware of the big black misery that's gonna hit me the moment serval passes the point of no return. but it has to be happen. and i intend to bring her into first life, into my life, not to get rid of her. she has been showing me how to do things that i'd never have done myself. now she's to become my angel, instead of me being hers, to lead me by the hand, to kick me in the bum, to make me do things myself instead of through a defenseless avatar. no hands. this, i can tell you, is some thrill.

i will wear sooty eyes. i will speak to strangers. i will not speak to guys that don't zip up. i will open my heart to guys, girls and furries, if they are willing to open theirs. i won't hesitate to try new things. i will have a notecard for guys that go mmmmm. for starters.

there may be some goodbyes now. and a lot of work. you can't leave an inventory behind for the lindens to eat, can you.

if you ever return to this diary again you may find new posts. serval may continue writing in first life. what do i know. it's her diary.

xoxo

emmi

Sanctuary revisited

I went to the Sanctuary Rock for the first time in a long time to hear master Rykk the vampire play his music. It was nice, although most of the crowd has changed. Well, yes, I supposed they have changed skirts, pants, hairs, shoes etc, too, but what I mean is that these avis were other ones than those I used to see there in the olden days.

The Sanctuary is where I got my first friends in SL. Where I got to know Oz and his buddies. Where I met Aimee. It's actually been a good place meeting others. Everyone should go there, I think. Except for the horrid little man, of course, because he'd go berserk from listening to the chat and start rains of fish or whatnot, and they don't like partycles much in this club.

Omg.

Omg!

Omg! I didn't listen to my diary until now! Is it true? Is it really true, Emmi? Omg. Oh, I know I should complain about you speaking in my diary again, becuase it's mine and not yours, and you never seem to care, but you think I care this time, no no no no no, please, come on, say it again! Pleeease! Are you really bringing me to First Life?!

/me swoons

Arabian

omg, i'm away for a couple of days to get at least something good out of all this snow, only to return to find my avi suicidal , nibbling pills to make it through the day. and, hey, smoking, slaying and exposing herself.

there has been a misunderstanding. serval said she likes stories. so do i. a good story beats them all. makes you cry, laugh and love. sad thing is that they end sooner or later. throwing you back into reality. that's the nature of good stories.

i told her about a story that has many stories within, of which some even have yet more stories in them. serval liked that concept. it goes on and on and never ends, she said.

well, it does end, actually. after one thousand and one nights. i'd say that's kind of enough for any good story. if it has to end, why not at that very point.

serval has been fearing discontinuation from the very start, but has survived inworld so far. i told her she won't have to for so much longer. i think most of her stories have been told by now. it's time to stop. it's time to end. one thousand and one nights. just a few more to go, before it's time to log.

i guess this is where things got wrong and were sort of misunderstood.

don't worry, my little best friend serval. this is not discontinuation. i'm bringing you to first life for good. to walk with me and to inspire me. it will be a better place for you, and a better place for me to explore those things that seem to come more easily to you than to me. from day one thousand and two i'm gonna do them myself and in first life only, with you by my side. and i'll treat you loads of meringue.

e.

Done

It has been done. I found him, the horrid little man. He wasn't expecting me. On the contrary. He didn't expect me. He was busy, probably devising evil plans to have avis like me and the others suffer sorrows and pains unheard of. And then I appeared out of the shadows, wielding my sword, crashing into his life one last time.

"oh dear, sweetie, i didn't c that 1 cuming", he said.

So, yes, it has been done. Which is a bit of a shame, in a way. Because I really liked the costume. Not his, of course, he looked dreadful, wearing stuff he probably got for free out of a dumpster. While I myself actually spent more time dressing than hunting him down. I didn't do the smoke him out part, though, because I'm not gonna try that again ever. But really, I liked the costume and now I see no good reason to keep wearing it. I gotta put another snapshot of it into my diary, so that it won't be forgotten, because I'll never wear anything nice again, how can I.

"u can't hurt me, u know", he said.

"oh, i can"

"no, u can't"

He was kind of cocky there, he really was, knowing that we were in a non-damage sim. I don't think I managed to give him much of a scare, either, because my Dip me in chocolate dance script didn't go very well with the sword. But, hey, cmon, I have really made efforts to keep my inventory lean, or finding stuff in it would be just impossible, so hoarding combat script hasn't been my kind of thing.

He laughed at me, and repeated:

"u know u can't hurt me"

I couldn't, of course. I had to leave him behind alive. So much for swords. I dunno why anyone bothers to make them.

But it doesn't end there. Little does he know. While I myself happen to know, after having met him a couple of times and having received this endless number of IM's of his, that he has like this obsession. The angel's compulsive obsessions are nothing in comparison. He has a cause. A Cause. No, a CAUSE. Which is to fight immoral sins, ranging from for example 9. Being cheeky to 90. Using bouncy settings. He seems unable to rest as long as there is anything that can be called sinful left to trample.

He knows of my diary. I know that he listens to it, because he kindly informed me about 167. Making typos in posts. So despite my ambition to keep my diary sweet, fluffy and PG (to which I've stuck oh so well up until now, haven't I?), I'm gonna put nudity in it. Because that's really gonna get him going. If 7. Flexing made him want to burn me by the steak, wow, then nudity is gonna make him raise hell. Or, knowing that his CAUSE has a kind of religious backdrop, it's gonna make him lower heaven, rather. Which I personally don't think is a very good thing, because what's the difference between hell and heaven if they end up at the same level.

After I'm gone (of which I prefer not to think very much, as it's not that long ... of which I wasn't gonna think very much) I won't be around and can't be made to take any nudities or anything else either btw away. And because it's on the nett, it's gonna stay there for ever. That's what the others said after I spoke those poems into my diary a long time ago. They said I was screwed, because now those words of mine were in the siberia space for ever and would never be forgotten.

The horrid little man won't be able to stop hating that parting gift of mine. And he won't be able to get rid of it. There will be Eighty. Diary nudity, A million. Diary nudity and so on until the end of days. He will never rest again. A clever plan, eh! This is the curse that I will cast upon him.

(So please, all of you who have those little avis in your inventories, don't make them listen to my diary to make them sleep any more.)

Here's me after almost slaying the horrid little man, trying to find my way back through his Garden of Eaten (which I assume he planted himself and out of love), and no longer wearing that nice assassin costume. Omg, didn't I like it.

7

But there's one more thing to do, isn't there. One more thing worthwile doing. Despite whatever unfair fate is awaiting me. The horrid little man. Make him stop. Make him shut his little horrid mouth. Make him not bother others any more, ever. I'm going out there to find him. I'm gonna slay him.

992/9

No one even said "hullo" today. No one saw me. As if I'm a ghost already. Off beyond the veil. Like a puff of vapour, or like one of those smokes that I did try, then decided against. Burning, making lots of smoke, until only ashes remain, and they disperse quickly from the slightest wind.

What more is there now to wait for? What more is there to hope for?

Surprise

Now this came as something of a surprise. Or shock, rather. The angel is planning to discontinue me.

I figured it out after she'd been talking to me about things. She was asking, casually, like, if I was happy with my life, if I never got tired of just hanging here doing nothing, and if I never wished it all to end.

"I mean, it can't go on for ever, can it?" she said.

Until then I had always trusted her. Like a very best friend. And so, "hey, let's get rid of old Serval. It's probably the best for her, look, she seems a bit bored, eh? What a shame I got her a new skin, what a waste."

Now this is gonna be good news to that horrid little stupid man who's kept making himself a nuisance. If this was a great drama, like in one of those stories on a big screen, he'd probably be my arch-enemy. We'd fight each other over and over again, he'd gain some sort of great advantage, but I'd still win in the end. Unless there'd be a certain non-deity bloody goddess who couldn't keep her hands away, but just had to interfere, couldn't bloody resist to, who decided to bluntly cancel the heroine and make the bad guy win the day, and life.

Well, I could tell you one or two things about this angel-goddess of ours that aren't so very godly. First, there's the compulsive obsession of hers. I've already told you about the peanut butter. There are other things, too, like doors, stoves and toilets. She's not very much in control there, I can tell you.

Secondly, why don't you ask her about

brb

bk

what she did just before moving to her new RL sim. It's been some time, so I had to listen it up in my diary, because she mentioned it there, certainly not revealing any details, but describing the goings on using words such as thrilling, obejctionable, tempting and exciting, stuff like that. I myself know what happened, because I was there. So was Fishie. Ask any of them. Just ask.

More. Ask her about those buttmarks in the snow on the park bench on New Yeahs Eve not so long ago. And about what happened next. You may want to refer to

brb

bk

just before Noctober, when she couldn't keep her tongue out of my diary but had to say things that we now know weren't very true at all, obviously. Knowing more about the life of that tongue now I'd rather you'd never touch my diary with it again, if that's not asking for too much, oh mighty goddess of two voices. And more, what about those snapshots? And what about that slightly wobbly pink thingie you keep in your place? I know the general idea of such things, and I don't object, oh no, not me, but this one has such a strange shape that the way to use it doesn't appear obvious, until you suddenly understand and blush.

The one thing the angel never did, though, as far as I know, was stealing. Until now, when she's about to steal my life. But such stealing probably doesn't mean much to her. Just a lil petty theft. No-one will know. And then, well, I'd bet a few lindens that she'll get herself another avi right away. One that she likes. But there's no point betting, because I won't be here to pick up my winnings.

When she spoke to me, the fallen angel talked about one thosand and one days. Which means nothing to me. I know the one and the one, which together become two. But then, thousand? Thousand is a lot, the others told me when I asked, and they helped me calcalating. Because, well, I myself didn't understand what the angel was talking about, because I was upset from getting the discontinuation bit of it, but the others told me one thousand and one is like a magical number and after that the last story has been told. Simple enough, then. She's giving me so many days. One thousand and one. Which leaves me another fifteen days in SL, the others told me, and, when I shrugged, told me more specifically, in a different way. Which spoilt the rest of my day, I can tell you. Fifteen days is nothing! She's a bad, bad angel, not even giving me a million days!

The only good thing in all this is that I now can count all the way up to fifteen. I'll probably use that capacity a lot in the days still to come. At least for a start. Later on, counting that far won't be necessary, will it.

There's no time to spare. First thing I'm gonna spend all my lindens in one go, hoping for the linden dollar counter to refill really, really quickly, so that I can empty it again. Then I'm gonna go places and make a racket and blame the angel. The angel made me do it! I was inspired by the angel! I'm gonna go to one of the public sex places and look for the guy with the largest object willie ever. Not to let him have his ways with me, but to take it away, and go for a quest searching for the horrid little man to make him stop bothering his fellow avatars. Well, that may be enough for day one. If not, I may take up smoking, too.

Solo

I decided to do it all on my own, so I had this Wotaneddie avi, who's from Indear, I believe, to tell that other guy to leave my magazine alone. So from now on it's me all solo.

Avatars

i told serval the other day that i'd been to see this movie, avatar. she didn't get it. i had to explain it to her. she listened, eyes all blank.

"so you were watching a screen with avatars on it?" she asked.

"yes" i said.

"so what's new about that? you do that all the time."

"it's not the..."

"you've been doing it a million days when controlling me, haven't you?"

"no, it's..."

"eighty?"

"this was a very big screen. and i wasn't controlling. just watching. it was a story."

"oh, i like stories" serval said. "was it a good one?"

"yes, it was."

"tell it to me!"

"no, it's too long for telling."

"awww."

ok, so i told her the story in brief. she liked it. not the end, though, which she found absurd. she hated that part. if it had been her, she told me, she would have done it the other way round. and become human. only a very, very stupid human would like to become an avatar, she concluded.

"it was worth the money seeing it, though" i said to change the subject.

"what? you paid for this?"

"yes."

"how much?"

i made a couple of currency calculations, from kronor into dollar and on into lindens and, as this was beyond her counting capacity, on into hairs. like, more than one expensive hair for each finger of her hands. she stared at me:

"you paid all that to watch... wow, that must have been a looong movie. how long was it, a year?"

"no. not so long."

"how long was it?"

"about two and a half hours."

"how long is that?"

"much less than a day."

"that's nothing. eh, my new skin was less than all those movie hairs!"

"i know" i admitted.

"and it took you two years getting it for me."

"yes."

"you don't really like me, do you?"

so what could i do but fill her linden counter and bring her shopping. i'm not sure it helped.

e.

Deity

Some time ago I concluded that I need a card, like, with a picture. For presenting myself, or for leaving a memory behind after meeting someone nice. So I asked the angel to make it for me. Just like that, because she can do such a lot of things. It would be a lil like devine intervention or whatnot. Here's me doing nothing, la la la la, and oops, all of a sudden a flash and smoke and all sorts of impressive stuff going on, and in the middle of it all (i.e. in my inventory) – my card. With me on it.

I dunno if it would be quite correct calling it devine intervention, though, because she is an angel, not a deity. I dunno. She's good, and omnipotent, and goddamn gorgeous too, eh, and if that isn't close to devine, well, then religion flew out the window right now. Please, Emmi, pleeease, I prayed.

And it worked out.

Hush

Hush, my darling, don't fear, my darling
The serval sleeps tonight.

Or whatever.

New

"what's a better way to begin a new year than giving your dearest avi a new skin? i can't think of any. or couldn't. so that's what i did. it was long overdue, long hindered by serval's persistent quest for the black hole eyes, oh, those black eyes, loved, elusive, craved for, surrounded by myths. finally, i let her give them up, after brushing them onto myself in front of my mirror one party night and loving it. there was no point exhausting poor serval any more, making her tp from shop to shop to endure eternities of slow rezzing once there. i could have the fun in rl instead.

during her long quest, i had kept peeping over her shoulder, seeing skins flickering by, and noting that there were oh so few black holes and a lot of everything else. which was sooo frustrating, until the quest suddenly was over and the blackness to serval's face wasn't desired by any of us any more. no more frustration. now there was a choice. oh dear, wasn't that rewarding. and i chose. and hope she'll feel comfortable with her new looks.

it's a funny thing how used you get to your avi's skin and features. i did hesitate. in the demo skin, she didn't look like serval any more. and clicking that pay button, well, it would mean the most expensive purchase in sl so far. what if it came out all wrong? i did click eventually, and of course loved new serval in no time. i hope she'll love it, too.

e."

Janueary

I have no idea how Eddiethor came up with this idea, but it wasn't very hard to please him. I've said before that I do sink well, so half the job was done once begun. Then there was this thing with staying out of reach from the fish, but I managed. It wasn't that difficult, actually. I don't think fish are very attracted to cats.

Party

There's been this big party going on, and it's been fun. Everyone has seemed to be so expectant and hopeful. No emo skins around, that is. Just bottles of shampoo and happy crowds. I like that. I even got a happy message from the angel. Listening between the lines, I figure she's had an exceptionally good party night. I myself feel good, too.

Tomorrow, they say, is a day to restart and do things better than before. Oki. That shouldn't be too hard. So I'll do some contemplating before I look for another party tonight, to have a go at finding out what I want to see in the future. Well, not only what I want see over there, but also what I want to come to me.

But right now I wish everybody around, including avis, humans and furries, the same that the angel and others have been wishing me already: A happy new yeah!