Monday, September 29, 2014


1. what do you collect? those secret decoder rings at the bottom of cereal boxes. i sent out for that ring they advertised that lets you see through things, but i haven't heard back from them yet...

2. what do you do for fun? cereal

3. name a place that's fun for you to visit but you wouldn't want to live there. my house

4. do you believe in revenge? only if it's served on a hot plate. and only if there's lots of sex involved. i don't believe in revenge sex, but i do believe in hot sex.

5. do you believe in forgiveness and do you forgive and forget? you have to. if you don't, this world will swallow you up on a dish best served cold. you can't forget, as in it's biologically impossible for you to forget, the subconscious mind has many secret rooms.

6. are you religious? spiritual? atheist? Atheism is a religion, right?

bonus: what's your routine every night just before you go to sleep? i plug cyberbrain. then i place a call to my girlfriend Motoko Kusanagi, The Major. i'm surprised cos it seemed she liked girls when i first met her. she's coming off a bad breakup with Data from Star Trek, so we're taking things slow.



Wednesday, September 24, 2014


Abdiel is dead. he is in Purgatory inside Jil's spirit. Jil is learning from Abdiel's consciousness, warts and all. Jil has warts, too, a fear of real people. it is a beneficial pairing, they are learning from each other, as one parasite tries to take control, the other pushes back, until a blending occurs, a superhuman forms, a human made super by not conceding, by exploring.

Jil sips on a Coca Cola Vanilla.

Jil: if you scroll down all these Instagram pics, you see the diversity of humanity.

Abdiel: no, just the opposite, everyone's the same, they're cynical and proud of it, it's like it's an accomplishment to screw life and screw any connections you could have had. everyone's locked in their bubble, they've determined that only their opinions on things matter, and they will only acknowledge those who agree with them. no challenges whatsoever, the perfectly air-tight echo chamber.

Jil: take a look at this man over here with the face, well, his icon anyway, that's all we get of this person, his icon face.

Abdiel: yes, see, look at the venom he's spewing online to this other bloke. why do people do this? why do they continue going online and talking to strangers about sci-fi shows? he's correcting the other nerd's syntax and grammar as they discuss the latest episode Lozzo starred in. how stupid is this? he's a fucking bully and it's over the lamest thing imaginable. don't these folks have better things to do with their lives?

Jil: maybe they don't. maybe this is their only social life. they have no friends. looking at it that way and you understand the lashing out and the quickness of their insults. they want so much to be recognized that they are smart, that they matter, they won't stomach any misconceptions of their theories, they will correct anybody who challenges them, but mostly they type back because someone else out there has recognized that they exist. they hate, they feign hate, but mostly they want love, they're desperate to make any connection, they are fishing for friends.

Abdiel: catfish more like it. he just called him a fag. is that a term of endearment?

Jil: nowadays yes. i see it all the time. read it anyway. girls who are bessies addressing themselves as bitches, that's when you know you've made the clique.

Abdiel: he is killing this poor geek. he's crushing him.

Jil: much like a bear hugs. i'm noticing his pattern, he might have Asperger's. the net has given voice to many who for years have remained silent and socially awkward. look how he signs off, with an RIP Lozzo. the other one responds back that she was a brilliant though green actress gone too soon who never got the chance to fly into the air with fully-formed wings. see, they end with warmth.

Abdiel: i'm sorry for your loss, Jil, i know Lozzo was precious to you.

Jil: not just another fan, she was my everything, i connected through her to the world. her episodes took me to the farthest regions of my imagination. sci-fi does that in a way no other genre can. she died in the same accident which took your life. what are the odds?

Abdiel: i see heaven or hell or the afterlife or the other in one eye as my other eye stays with you. all i can say in response is that everything seems to be connected. there are no coincidences.

Jil moves over to her piano, trading one keyboard for another. she starts with a ditty but it doesn't fit the mood of the room. she launches into a subtle quiet composition that is her own creation but sounds like Beethoven.

Jil: what are you hearing here?

Abdiel: nothing, it's barely audible, press down on the keys with more force. i do hear something, it's like the Wanamaker Organ that crushed me, or a


Jil: no, it's the very slight sway of the wind chime at my front door. the tiny tinny. do you know why wind chimes are so beautiful?

Abdiel: they ward off evil spirits, that's the reason for everything in ancient history. i don't need to look things up anymore.

Jil: no, it's cos the wind chime provides a physical manifestation of the air outside. when it jingles, we see the invisible wind, it's not just air, it's real, there is something substantial out there.

Abdiel: oh my god, scroll back, i hate this woman!

Jil: misogyny is not a good look.

Abdiel: but come on! she creeps me out. she is another "artist". her instagram posts are her designs which are white squares slashed and drip-dotted with paint. she's trying to be Pollock but only Pollock was able to get away with being Pollock, everyone else who splashes paint willynilly on a canvas is doing a kindergarten art project. her smile, though, her smile, it's so forced in all of her pictures, she seems as a wax mannequin.

Jil: art is in the eye of the beholder.

Abdiel: do you have an answer for everything? that's what wrong with life. i'm starting to see in the afterlife that that isn't the case, there are some things without explanation, retort, comeback. they simply are. they be.

Jil: when i look at her smile, i see exactness, she's exactly where she should be, it is a fake smile, but that's because it's hiding an incredible amount of pain, it comes off as awkward because she's trying to fight back tears as she smiles, she's forcing her lips to curve upwards when they so want to curve downwards. her mouth is solemnly preparing to accept the tears from above. this is as tortured-artist as can be.

Abdiel: perception is reality, huh? or you're just blindly seeing the best in people.

Jil: guilty. this is what i'm learning as i'm going along. being in the cocoon of this house was so comforting it made me sick. my body was aching for realness. no more safe online friendships, i have to touch, kiss, hug, fuck, get rejected and hurt. there is nothing as life-affirming as a breakup, it means you've lived. the hurt one feels from forced isolation is dull at best, it's easy to hate the world in your room when you don't engage the world, you casually fall back into your preconceived notions about the world and people because you have no real people to break down your door and challenge your ironclad beliefs with their words, words vocalized from the mouth, living, breathing, not typed. nothing crumbles a philosophy like an embrace between two strange people.

Abdiel: is all this directed at me?

Jil: no, it is you learning. to see things differently.

Abdiel: on one of our esteemed artist's Pollock painting posts, that same bully from before has commented YOU SUCK, YOU ART SUCKS and she responds back LOL :). is this all a game? no, no! scroll up. no! the babe in the bikini and the bellybutton ring again. she's hot and she knows it. she's impossibly hot, untouchably hot, she knows she's a tease and she loves it. she knows all of the lonely nerds will like her pic but will never have a chance with her.

Jil: yes, this is all part of the game. she's playing, they're playing. it's subconscious by now. it's strange, i know, the nerds know for a fact that they will never date her, yet they like like like her scantily-clad pics day after day. it's pointless, but it's a reflex. it's heart, not head. it's uncontrollable, as is her perfection. flaunt it if you've got it. i would. i mean, what else is the point? the good Lord bestowed upon her the gift of this body, show it to the world, it's meant to be shared, glory humanity, don't hide your light under a bushel.

Abdiel: confession time, i was one of those lonely nerds.

Jil: no, couldn't be. dude, you need an internet break. the internet ruins life, it corrodes it, coarsens it, dissects it into air. live outside the CD-ROM box of categories. listen to my music. live in the moment, freestyle chords, melodies, not ready for mass consumption, ready only for your spontaneous response.

Jil tickles the ivories once more and tickles her throat as she belts out some Whitney:

learning to love yourself
is the greatest love of all.

i believe the children are our future...

Abdiel: i can't sing, not even here, but it's beautiful. i wish i had kids. well, i dunno, i guess i thought about having kids in the future, what that would be like, how a cynical man like me could be a father. i first thought that song was about masturbation.

Jil: speaking of, time to turn in. have you written to Grisel yet? she's your friend now, too.

Abdiel starts in on Grisel's profile as Jil takes a nap. he writes:

Grisel, how are you? i am so proud of your sobriety. even one day is cause to celebrate. all of your instagram pics of your sobriety tokens make me smile, fill my heart with glee. i feel you, there are days when i am so out of sorts it's a miracle i'm able to put one foot in front of the other. it's like my body has a mind of its own, it fights to do anything other than stay in bed, the depression is stronger than the Force, but we jedis are silently strong, we know the deal, we let go and let God, we breathe, and we just do it. my body, your body, we take the next step, prepare breakfast, get on with the day, despite the depression that is 100% destroying each cell, somehow the antibodies work, the body is a miracle like that, like little energy balls all over silently working to make sure each hour passes as always. we get by, we get through, the next hour comes, activity. we reach the other side, the other point, the shortest distance is a straight line, we make it, and we don't even know how we got there, it happened while the depression kept us in its sleep. yes, i do hope we get to meet one day.

the next day, Jil walks to her laptop desk. she picks up a Rubik's Cube. it's solved. she thought she needed to solve it, that it was hopelessly unsolvable and out of whack and full of jutting sides and points and rectangular blocks and tips mixed with colors, but all of the sides are monotone, one color, and in place. she takes her ipad mini and takes a selfie as her hands tremble. it's a dark pic. the room is dark. she posts it gingerly, tapping the piano key of SEND to her instagram profile. under the photograph for the caption she writes:


but then Abdiel types


the gardener's blowers sound loudly. Jil covers her ears. she hated the gardeners, they disrupted her sleep and general concentration when she was thinking of something important. they came at the most inopportune times, when an idea sparked, a concept for a novel, she always forgot it amidst the roar and rumble. she was indignant of them, she blamed them, so she never talked to them, avoided them, hid under her bed like a cat till they were gone. they...

...gardener (knocking on the door): Senorita! please open up!

Jil opens her door.

gardener: senorita, i'm sorry, but we can't do the work today. we stopped. we can't go all the way. the motors have stopped. the yardwork will have to be in the future. everything is the future. as you can see, my eye is swollen shut. infection.

Jil: oh dear, i am sorry for that. (this is the first time Jil has ever spoken to her gardeners.) i, um, it's okay, you do what you like, i will always pay you, happily. you do so much around here, tending my garden, you're the ones that make it beautiful, the flowers are your work, you deserve the praise when all the tourists flock to my house to take pictures of my garden. it's your garden. i just want to tell you how appreciative i am of you. i could never do this backbreaking work. well, goodbye.

gardener: never goodbye. always hello. the next time, next time hello. hey, could you do me a favor? i can't drive like this. could you pick up my son from kindergarten? here's the directions. i'll call him before to let him know. you should never go with strangers.

Jil: oh, um.........sure.

it is such a quick transition, but as soon as the gardener leaves, the face in place of the gardener's is Grisel's. Grisel is at Jil's front porch. Grisel is wearing a hat that covers her face. in Grisel's right hand is an open dripping bottle of alcohol.

the wind chimes.

the dog in the backyard barks.

Jil takes Grisel by the hand. she removes the bottle from Grisel's hand and takes that hand into her living room. Abdiel removes Grisel's hat. Grisel's hair is strewn and messy, her face is haggard. Grisel's eyes are bloodshot, her cheeks purple. Jil wraps herself completely around Grisel in a hug as she leads Grisel into her home, touching both of Grisel's shoulders in the embrace. a bear hug.

they are at the hat rack.

Jil: may i take your shawl?

Grisel: no, i need my blankets.


Monday, September 22, 2014


1. do you believe in marriage? but what is belief really? what is a thought? where does a thought come from? think about it. thought about it.

2. have you ever proposed marriage or been proposed to? details: baby steps, i first need to marry myself. self-love, The Greatest Love of All, thank you Whitney Houston.

3. what would be your dream way of proposing marriage? sunset, Nintendo World Store, my joystick enters her port...

4. what would be your nightmarish way of proposing marriage? if she liked Sega.

5. mainstream society has engagement rings. in your opinion, what token should be given to signify engagement? Ring Pop, preferably cherry.

6. would you want to participate in an open marriage as opposed to a traditional, monogamous marriage? have you given it serious thought? yes, i've always wanted to try an open marriage. it can work as long as there are no secrets. just like friends with benefits, it works every time. well, since we're being honest, i have given it thought, but not serious thought. what is a thought anyway?

bonus: tell us about someone you would have proposed to but never had the chance/opportunity: still the closest i've ever come, the blonde babe from my college drama class, what i wouldn't give for her baby mama drama...



Friday, September 19, 2014


your teeth hurt. too much candy. your body hurts. too much soda. September feels like August. the heat bubbles your soul, a soul empty and spent with rage. you can't stand it anymore. you can't stand. your personality is lost amongst your masks. he is there. he is the extra. he's been where you've been. you are lying in a gutter. figuratively. and literally. he is the hope. he is the answer. he gives you the power. he is the universe. he is the phoenix risen again. he made me type this right now.


happy weekend


Wednesday, September 17, 2014


Abdiel: i'm inside you. finally.

Jil: what's going on? time seemed to speed up just now. or did it slow? my ankles are throbbing.

Abdiel: i won't tell Achilles if you won't.

Jil: you're alive, Abdiel! but where are you? i can hear you, sense you, but can't see you.

Abdiel: like i said, i'm inside you. i'm in your spirit. we're as one.

Jil: what? how can this be?

Abdiel: now who's the nonbeliever. i don't know, and yet it has happened.

morning struck without a sunrise anymore. Jil tried to stand up but her feet buckled. there was sand in places she didn't want to mention, but it didn't matter cos Abdiel already knew those places.

Abdiel: how do you think i feel? i've never had a sandy vagina before.

the cloud hovering over the accident above was so thick as to conceal it to the point that it might as well not have been there. it was a signal to move on.

Jil returned to the brick library only because it was a shorter distance than to her house. the patrons were deathly worried about her, which Jil found ironic.

woman: i'm ready to check out.

Jil: i'll get to you soon, ma'am. or maybe someone else will. just come to take my computer here and i'm off again. i'm OFF. see you soon, or whenever i fully recover.

Jil straddled off to her house. the walk was long and painful, she was imjured, she found it strange that nobody came to help her famous self, she was clearly struggling, but then it didn't become strange anymore, it just became let's get home as soon as possible, and at the end of the trip, Jil relished that nobody came to her aid and made a scene. Jil loved remaining anonymous. she entered her beautiful home door.

Abdiel: are you okay?

Jil: i'll live, but you won't. what is this for you, though? Purgatory?

Abdiel: i guess. i never knew how it worked till now. nobody does, that's the game. i guess this is how it works. it never seems as grand as you envision it to be. this is rather ordinary all told. i'm disappointed.

Jil: i want to remove the wraps on my home laptop, both literally and figuratively. i was scared of this thing till now. there was something addictive about it, a home computer, the concept of it, the fact that with this tool, one can hide from the world forever in a cave, never stepping foot in the real world again, content with airy wisps as friends, online conversations as light as the wind, never having to shake a hand or raise a fist, touchless, becoming less human with each keystroke.

Abdiel: that's my paradise, or it was. now my paradise is being inside you for the forseeable future.

Jil: we are meant to learn from one another, perhaps become as one eventually. maybe that's the key: all humans eventually become one in the afterlife, one spirit. but still, this is gonna be awkward when i shower and masturbate.

Abdiel: i was looking forward to that, but the clinical way you said that, i become less pervy with each of your keystrokes.

Jil went onto Instagram and immediately to the page of her friend Grisel, a kindly alcoholic whose captions were as human as humanly possible.

Jil: this is the Grisel i've been telling you about, or trying to.

Abdiel: yeah. boring. you have an email.

Jil clicked and was bombarded with spam and a work email about hours or vacation time or some such. Jil wasn't interested in her work anymore, she was interested in making real connections. she realized she had to send one final message to the community that loved her that she wouldn't be round the old brick library for a while and the town had to make due. she prepared a video recording of an aire she played on her piano awhile back and sent it to the library website. when it came in, all of the library patrons dropped their books and stood in extreme attention. the music started playing, the patrons smiled collectively, this was their Jil, this was Jil from beyond the grave, she wasn't there with them, they couldn't touch her, but she was there in spirit. the mellifluous ivory sounds of her fingers swayed the patrons back and forth, they closed their eyes to follow the ascending and descending patterns of the notes. beautiful. lovely. brava! encore! but no, it was just the one. Jil did however leave an appendage after the piece:


the patrons stood googly-eyed with their hands on their hearts...throughout this entire thing...and they clapped furiously afterwards, so loud for ten minutes straight that the caulk in the bricks began to melt.

Abdiel: let's have fun. i'm not ready to learn my lesson and leave Purgatory, i'm ready to be a ghost. look, that's the profile of the girl i was telling you about, the serial selfie-er.

Jil: her captions are so sad, missing her boyfriend, bemoaning her putrid existence, shouting at God. let's talk to her.

Abdiel: what? no! don't give her any pub.

Jil typed simply I FEEL YA on one of the girl's pictures. the girl immediately responded with a smiley face.

Jil: see? she's a real human underneath the screen. she responds accurately, she's not a robot. i bet that was the first excuse she had to post a smiley face in years. it's just a symbol the smiley-face, and yet hers says more to me, it's a true representation, i can see her smiling face right now.

Abdiel: whoa, i do, too, but i actually see it. it's wild where i am. scroll down, oh yeah, here he is, the guy who posts nothing but cat pictures. that is so lame! that is such baiting for likes. i mean of course everyone in the world is gonna like cute cat pictures. when someone like that has more followers than me, that is what i call injustice. i was original. again, i tell you i'm actually seeing the inherent injustice in the world right now, this is fucking wild.

Jil: kittehs are kute. Caturday made me chuckle.

Abdiel: but he's posting this and it's not Saturday!

Jil: i always like every pet pic i come across, i make it a point to like them all cos animals are awesome. better than people. animal selfies i can always take. it's my general rule. i always fret that in my speedy scrolling, i miss a pet pic as i scan. i feel guilty about that, it's like i'm betraying the animal itself, by not liking the pic i'm quietly dissing the existence of the poor pet. the instagram LIKE limit also gets me anxious, i'm always feeling that i'm gonna run out of LIKEs at any time and another pet pic will spring up!

Abdiel: and i thought i was addicted to air. oh, here, another cloying BLESSED pic. now that i know what blessed is, this is REALLY annoying.

Jil: blessed pic?

Abdiel: people who post selfies of themselves in exotic locations saying I'm Blessed, Blessed, Happy To Be Alive, This Is the Best Day Ever, I'm the Best Person Ever, etc. it just boils down to more narcissistic look-at-me nonsense, look how great my life is, look at that expensive view, my friends are better than yours, i'm rich and famous, your life sucks by comparison, you suck.

Abdiel made it a point to move Jil's fingers this time as Jil typed under the caption of a Blessed Pic SPAM 4 SPAM?

Abdiel LOL'd. he really did, though, in real life, not as a nebulous online thing. Jil felt his laugh in her shaking stomach.

Abdiel: come on, that's hilarious.

Jil: no, no, it's not.

Jil chuckled.

Abdiel continued on many pics.

Jil: wait, did you just comment SPAM 4 SPAM? on a memorial pic about the anniversary of the Attacks?

Abdiel: no, no, it's fine, don't worry.

Jil still didn't trust Abdiel, and since Abdiel was her, she didn't trust herself.

Abdiel: i'm outtie before things become too serious. i'm getting enough unsolicited information about the meaning of life as it is. is there a way to shut this off? i want to sleep, or eat, or something. enough of this Disney-sitcom Ghost Dad bad-script reality. is this really how Purgatory is? Dante's epicness trembles. who knew God had a sense of humor?

Jil: He invented it. and not everything in life can be reduced to a tv show, remember?

Jil spent the rest of the lazy day idling on her brand-new home computer, wearing it out with each keystroke as she engaged in the serious idle of a long drawn-out conversation with Grisel on her instagram. she wrote novels and large paragraphs as the two women chatted back and forth talking about Grisel's sobriety and her daily challenges just to get out of bed. Jil related her struggles to get out of bed and find meaning in life and whether or not her thoughts were her own anymore or Abdiel's. was the end-game with Jil and Abdiel a combination or a takeover? who would take over? one soul or two? Jil felt alone here, Abdiel was clearly not around, he spoke not, not a shimmer of his presence anywhere, Jil felt more herself during this somber conversation with Grisel.

Abdiel was learning and becoming more comfortable with himself during his conversation with Grisel...



Monday, September 15, 2014


1. do you give pet names to anything? (significant other, car, breasts, penis, vagina): i would name my significant other, if i had one, Honeybunch after the Mertzes on I Love Lucy. on a side note, they despised each other in real life, huh? now that's acting. i name my penis Therein Lies The Rub.

2. is there a pet name you can't stand being called? Garbage Ass

3. has your body ever done something to you that you didn't (fully) understand? even if it was a first-time something? there's this piece of flesh/welt/growth/bubble thing that's been on my back for ages. i'm scared to remove it with a scissors or utensil or tool or something, i'd rather just let it breathe and breed. so far i seem to be fine and healthy with it on, in fact i had forgotten about it until this question came up. let me check again...yep, it's still there on my back...and...wait...there are two more? DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNNNNNNN

4. what body part do you spend the most time on? (grooming, applying): my back. i use that backscratcher above there twice a day. for perspective, i eat breakfast only once a day. i make sure my one back hair is nice and groomed, and...there are two more? DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN

5. the name of the best lover you've ever had: you.

6. have you ever taken an ex back? i wish...

bonus: what's your biggest concern in the world today? there's just this sense that, ultimately, we're all doomed, y'know?



Wednesday, September 10, 2014


"i'm ready to check out."

Abdiel: no.

Abdiel raced past everyone in his way and trod along as if towed by something else. never before was there so much determination in his walk, there was air in his sails, for the first time.

Abdiel crashed through the glass front door of the brick library and scurried along to save Jil from sure disaster. he had joked with her that the authorities were coming to her house to take her away. why? cos he could, and did. but here was proof, here was the limit, there was in fact a limit, whatever Abdiel believed before, here was a certain line that shouldn't be crossed. Abdiel was learning new things which replaced the old things, these concepts whizzed by him without his permission. he was moving, imperceptibly moving away from his stance. he was moving to Jil with lightning speed.

Jil for her part was in a panic. Abdiel told her that the higher-ups determined that she was the cause of the leak and was certain to pay. she needed to get to her computer at the brick library and erase everything, even though she didn't do anything wrong, it was all a big joke. from her house to her library workplace, it was a treacherous path. see, there was a stretch of road that was so thin that passengers simply couldn't squeeze through without confronting speeding cars. why no one made a sidewalk there remains a mystery. after you confronted this part of the path and survived, you were home free cos the rest of the journey was literally a walk on the beach. but on that highway, one hasty move to the left away from the slim edges of the railing and you were roadkill. Jil had her hat down as was her wont, she liked to remain anonymous, but she couldn't see where she was going, it was covering her entire face, a face made red with embarrassment at this whole scandal, which was a non-scandal.

Abdiel had caused this disaster, it would be his fault if she died. Abdiel couldn't handle such a thing. before he was the harmless prankster, but this was REAL, actually REAL, ON, this couldn't be taken back, deleted with a keystroke, he would affect the timeline of the world with her death in a profound way that could never be erased. this was too much responsibility for poor Abdiel, he was meant to be flitting in the air of time, forgotten as soon as he was remembered, he was never meant to carry such a terrible burden. he was not on the sidelines as usual, he had to be the hero.

Abdiel spotted Jil trembling as she skitted along the dangerous road. vehicles whizzed by without a care in the world, much less caring if they hit her. like a fireman jumping in where the rest of us and angels fear to tread, Abdiel launched himself into the middle of the road. you'd be surprised, but there wasn't a lot of horn-honking going on. the cars did perceptibly speed up, though. Abdiel made a beeline for Jil just as a large semi-trailer truck was about to strike her down. the truck was towing on its back a Wanamaker Organ, one with ten sets of keys and ten sets of organ buttons and ten of stops and ten pipes, on a precarious string. the organ danced from left to right on the road as it got towed. the day was so frightened it quickly turned to night. the front lights of the truck shone as


time stopped. no, it slowed. it went into slow motion, not as a perception, as a reality.

Jil: thank you for pushing me out of the way, my friend.

Abdiel: what's going on? everything is in slow-motion. i've heard about life flashing before your eyes...

Jil inhaled the longest breath of her life. she paused. she took off her hat and scanned her surroundings. time was traveling in slow motion. she finally had the time to see. to see. she saw the two lights of the truck. she held onto Abdiel's shoulders as Abdiel was pushing her to the side of the road. they were locked in an eternal embrace which would never end. their faces were up close to each other, touching noses.

Jil: two angels.

Abdiel: no, couldn't be, why is this happening? it's an Inception Intervention.

Jil: no jokes or clever Instagram puns explains this. you can't reduce this to a tv show or film.

Abdiel: it's impossible.

Jil: and yet it is happening. there must be a reason. nothing from nothing, sure, but this is something, this is an actual event that is happening, it is something.

Abdiel: is it gonna go back to normal time? what is our fate?

Jil: i believe you've pushed me hard enough to save me at the side of the road. however, you are still vulnerable. you will be on the ground prone position. you won't have time to react and flip out of the way. the organ will steam right into you.

Abdiel: this is how it ends for me?

Jil: give a life to save a life. i am forever grateful.

Abdiel: but i don't want to go. I WANT TO LIVE!!!

Jil: and that's what makes this so special. for the first time, you did something truly selfless. you weren't buried in your cocoon of cynicism, spouting all your hate and disgust at the online world. you stepped out into the fresh air. you were away from the virtual and did something REAL. this mattered. you saved my life, in more ways than one. i'm starting to see things now, a lot of things i never bothered to see before in my cocoon.

Abdiel was crying, his tears reached Jil's cheeks.

Abdiel: real men don't cry.

Jil: did you learn that on the internet?

Abdiel: yes.

they both smirked at the same time. Abdiel winced.

Jil: you are a real man, finally. and i'm becoming a real woman. we are citizens of the world, not trolls. i shall take you with me forever, your spirit inside my heart. you gave me a second chance, and i intend to use it up, squeeze out every inch of toothpaste. please, invade my dreams, haunt me.

Abdiel: your sex dreams?

Jil: especially.

Abdiel (stuttering in 3/4 time): y'know....i never....when i had the chance...i was always too shy to tell you...

Jil: i know. listen, they are two angels. you will go to heaven, you won't go to hell. life is hell. you're not a monster. you're not evil. you repented at the last minute. this one act erases the other bad acts, like a keystroke. it's a beautiful concept, isn't it? it happens whether or not you believe. i'm starting to believe in other things. i'll see to it that you make it there. you have an ally in me. this is what it means to live, this is what it means to have friends. friendship is important, it's vital, it's everything, real people, real touch, it's all there is.

time lasts. time endures, it speeds up and slows down at the same time. it's impossible to record, at least precisely, it moves imperceptibly, it doesn't exist and so it always exists. some time later, impossible to say when, the time went back to normal, full speed, in front of speeding cars. there were no brakes. there was a crash. boom. smoke. smoke coming out of pipes. the truck driver's cigarette. metal mangling. doors opening and closing. a huge cloud of smoke. dust everywhere. dust blanketing the world. foreign noises sounding never to be sounded again. one big pile, railings dissolving, divisions fading...

Jil rolled and rolled and bounced off the side of the hill until she landed on the soft sand of the leisurely beach below. the babes in bikinis and hunks in trunks hadn't a care in the world for what was happening above them, the sonic metronome of the waves of the sea calmed everyone, replaced the noise of the road, of society, with endless nature.



Monday, September 8, 2014


1. what is the one word in your vocabulary you use excessively? ironic, and ironically, i use it wrongly every time.

2. if you had a sex change, what part of your body would you want enhanced the most? balls. i don't have the balls to do anything.

3. not a sex change, but what part of your body do you want enhanced? i want it so long it wraps around my entire, long hair, rock-god long hair.

4. when was the last time you felt possessive about someone? i don't get possessive, it's a losing battle. if you love something, set it free: if it comes back to you, it was meant to be. if not, well, that's depressing.

5. when was the last time you got a wedgie and had to remove it in public? yesterday. the mall. i got these new underpants that have this heavy white inner lining mesh grid of tiny circles inside, they're more like swim trunks. they get up in all my cracks. the grid supposedly makes it breathable down there, but it would be more breathable if the grid just wasn't there at all. in fact it would be the most breathable if i didn't wear underpants. the mall cop let me swim around in them in the mall fountain. yep, they had to be swim trunks.

6. if the world froze for an afternoon and only you could move and no one else could move nor see you nor remember what you did, what would you do? swim in the mall fountain. cool, this is some Rod Serling Twilight Zone stuff, right in my wheelhouse. cool, get it? this isn't the plot of Disney's Frozen, is it? no spoilers please.

bonus: what is your favorite sex toy of 2014? upscale spa



Wednesday, September 3, 2014


Jil was in her house, her sanctuary, surrounded by her flowers, little shields which distracted passing folk to key in on the flowers rather than the tenant inside. she never needed to speak to anyone, her flowerbed did the talking, the people knew just from the array of colors and scents around this house that the owner must be awesome. they took their cell-phone pics and left it at that.

Jil took the packing wrapping off of her new laptop computer and turned it on for the first time. she didn't like home computers, the concept of it, it was too dirty, too scandalous. i mean, with a computer at home, why leave the house? you have the entire world at your fingertips, just stay inside your cavern all day talking to strangers by tapping on keys, silent communication free of any real consequence or consequences, no need for a real name, anonymously spouting off cardboard views as thin as the cardboard the computer came in, and when the argument becomes too heated, simply TURN OFF. forgotten, wisps in the air, not real people, glide into the windy nothingness of OFF. there were real people on the other side of the screen, and yet they weren't real, not really, she couldn't touch them, shake their hand, hug them, kiss them. acknowledgment from a comment is one thing, an embrace needs no words, it's a more powerful connection.

it wasn't like Jil's relationship with Firstie, the dog from next door who barked and moaned and pleaded plaintively for Jil to let him in her yard. there was loads of petting of the head and touching and stroking and shaking of the paw going on there. except Firstie wasn't hollering so much these days, now he pondered Jil with a quizzical look. he never actually came into her backyard, it was more a test than a reality, he was still trying to ferret her out. no, he knew she was good. he also knew that it was not a dog named Firstie that she needed.

Jil took the cover off. some warm milk soothed her. she turned ON. one of her Instagram friends was named Grisel. Grisel was a bright and noble woman who was having a hard time recently trying to kick her alcoholism. she never posted an Instagram pic unless it was gravely necessary, no cheap selfies and photos of food and gum on her account, just solemn pics of her sobriety tokens, updates on her progress, and urgent messages to her instagram friends about the nature of friendship, loyalty, and generosity. she never failed to mention how much she appreciated each and every single one of those who followed her, she considered them her family, they were her family, Jil was her family. this was the sort of thing that couldn't be dealt with casually at the work computer at the library, Jil needed the monastic silence of her home in order to craft a thoughtful response, a comment from the heart to her secret friend Grisel. Jil lived alone but she wasn't alone. Jil wrote a comment under Grisel's one-month sobriety token which was free of internet snark, puns, or clever double-entendres. there was not an ounce of irony in it, it was a clear and florid message that evoked steadfastness and humanity. Jil looked over her paragraph, she used up every letter she could given Instagram's character-count limit, and she smiled openly. Jil pressed the SEND button proudly.

a noise. a rumbling.

Jil: what's going on?

it turned out to be the salt system. you had to pour a heavy bag of salt crystals into the little outside container box there or the water would go to hell and start tasting like mud. it usually beeped when it was time for a fill-up, but this was more than a beep, it was a wailing, a crying out like Firstie used to bark, it wanted more than a refill, it wanted to be loved.

Jil went outside of her fortress and scissor-opened one large bag of crystals. she was still thinking about Grisel. that's a good thing. but she was distracted and missed getting all the crystals into the hole, the crystals spilled everywhere on her precious soil where her flowers grew. the bag was heavy, she awkwardly lugged the thing over her shoulder as she poured but it was clunky and didn't pour in an efficient stream, it just kind of shot out. it was so heavy the kinetic energy transferred from the bag to her body in such a way that it lifted her off the ground for a moment, Jil did a tiny, impromptu, failed half-flip.

Jil: fuck, now what?

the crystals would surely damage the soil, too much salt is never a good thing. Jil had to act fast. she realized she had to make a sacrifice. Firstie looked at her from the open slat of the fence quizzically, he turned his head to the side, askew, panting and with one ear pricked. Jil scooped up all the crystals into one pile and put it in the center of her backyard garden.

Jil: that's no good. i don't want Firstie or a cat coming in here and trying to eat this toxic stuff. i know of the legends of black cats around here, they are called Masters are are supernatural beings you don't want to get on the bad side of.

she knew what she had to do. she noticed a group of her prized red poppies near the salt pile. she uprooted these poppies and replanted them on the spot of the salt. she knew she was killing these particular flowers, but these flowers were brave soldiers which would suck up all the salt and prevent the rest of the garden from becoming infected. they would also hide the salt from any animals wandering by.

Jil: give your life to save thousands of lives. we salute you. the war is won because of your blood-red, my precious poppies.

some DUST, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK kicked up Jil as she walked back inside.

a call. a ring. the phone by the laptop. Jil picked up.

Abdiel: you could have just put the crystals in a trash bag. quit being so dramatic all the time.

Jil: how's work? is the library still standing without me? no wrecking balls to the place?

Abdiel: i serve as the human wrecking ball. same old, same old. there are customers wanting to check out books, they give me their library cards, i scan some scary red-light laser over a black-and-white square, and life abides. guess where i am as you play hooky?

Jil: ............

Abdiel: i'm at your computer. i hacked into your instagram account and am posing as you commenting away on all of the pics of all the people you follow, especially your celeb crush Lozzo.

Jil: what?! that's not funny. my day off is over, i'm coming over there. damnit, just don't say anything stupid. don't do anything stupid. how the fuck did you guess my password?

Abdiel: relax, i'm just messing around. i knew your password had to be Firstie. it's always pets. i use my smarts for evil.

Jil: that's a shame. and you're not evil. and you're not my friend anymore. and i'm never discussing my life with you again.

Abdiel: that's what you get for being a truant.

Jil: please, Abdiel, i'm serious now, as serious as one can be over the phone without direct eye contact, i'm fucking serious, please....(Jil pauses to think about her.).....leave...her...alone.

Abdiel: who, Lozzo? too late, i've trolled her pics, but it doesn't matter, it's just one comment lost in a parade of thousands of comments she gets for each of her pics. she's a star, she probably never reads the comments anyway, her secretary does or something.

Jil: um, no, not her, but, just stop, please.

Abdiel: huh, there was this one pic of Lozzo with a quizzical look on her face and her hands up. under the pic the caption read: WHERE'S MY DOG AT? I replied: hello? is anyone out there? help me, woof woof, where are you, Lozzo? i miss you, come get me. where am i? if only i had been chipped...

Jil: hilarious. what if her dog is really missing? celebrities are people, too.

Abdiel: come on, you can see her dog in the back of her in the pic. it's just a way to get more likes and comments, showing Lozzo with a funny face. the whole thing is staged.

Jil: befitting an actress. come on, man, sometimes you have to play the game in life, y'know? social lubricants, it just makes everything easier. it's not that you're backing down from your hardline stances and ideals, it's just that life is hard enough, you've got to lighten up and go with the flow.

Abdiel: like air. and then there's this one girl i follow whose account is made up solely of selfies of herself with one tear on her left cheek. all of the captions read like the lyrics of an indie-rock love song. she's constantly talking about the boyfriend who dumped her. she can't get over it, day after day, missing him, wanting him back, incredulous at the breakup, pleading with him over the internet.

Jil: have you ever gotten your heart broken?

Abdiel: i know, but not even a break, an interlude of a pic of an apple to change the mood? ALL SELFIES? what i do is i like her pic, and then i take back my like by hitting the LIKE button again.

Jil: i'm pretty sure she doesn't notice that. you need a life, my friend, and there is no life online.

Abdiel: you're right, she wouldn't notice, she's too self-absorbed in her emo pain.

Jil: gotta be more compassionate, open up to others' pain, i was an emo in high school.

Abdiel: and then there's the guy whose account is filled with pics of clever signs, puns, weird instant-messaging conversations, and captions full of double-entendres, crazy pics, funny wordplay, the latest in internet memes and trends. he comes up with the new buzzwords. i believe he first posted the word BAE.

Jil: yes, so what of him?

Abdiel: i'm jealous of him, that's all. i mean, what a sweet gig. he knows of some secret website where all of this cool stuff is stored, everyday he gets up and simply plucks a clever punny pic from this stash and posts it on his page and he gets a million likes and comments. where do i sign up? i want his job. my job sucks. i still have no idea where he gets all this stuff from. it's not his stuff, you can tell, it's the art of others, he's just posting it.

Jil: so he's a thief, a charlatan, a fraud. i'd be more mad at him than harmless selfies or genuine selfies. creative originality is hard to come by these days, it must be protected.

Abdiel: did you hear about that celeb hacking scandal? all the nude pics? i wonder if any of Lozzo's nudes got out?

Jil: what? Lozzo would never take nudes of herself, she's too dignified and chaste. that whole scandal makes me sick. celebrities are people, too. what, so no one can live freely anymore? celebrities can't take any more pictures for fear of some future hacker who might intercept them down the road? mayhem and paranoia have won the war.

Abdiel: .........wait, what's this? a message has just popped up on your screen, apparently the authorities think it's your computer that is the source of the original hack, they are coming to your house immediately!

Jil: what? damnit, Abdiel! i don't want strangers in my house! (Jil scrambles for a minute.) fuck, i can't fix this with my home computer here, what a surprise, i'll have to go over there and check it out, seize my work computer first. what did you do?! fuck, i'll be right over, don't touch my computer anymore, don't touch any more buttons, close the lid and turn it OFF OFF OFF. pull the plug, erase all the files and pull the plug, they're tracking me, i want to remain anonymous. shit.

Jil dropped the receiver, which knocked over her mug, spilling the warm milk all over her bare feet. she rushed outside her front door and walked barefoot along the path to the library. there was a dangerous stretch of path where the traffic whizzed by before the walk on the beach. once you reached the beach-walk boardwalk, you were home free and you were soon at the brick library. but that narrow area had no sidewalk, you had to scoot yourself gingerly past zooming cars full of distracted drivers, distracted with the distractions of the world, of their worlds.

Abdiel: wait...Jil...i was only kidding...hello? hello? shit.

woman: i'm ready to check out now.

Abdiel looked above the ice cream cone he was eating to the woman customer, staring at her blankly, seeing through her to a gust of air on the ceiling which projected the decision he had to make right now. on this projection the film was already going on, the scene before was his remembrance of what Jil had just told him:

Jil: you're not evil.



Monday, September 1, 2014


the last rose of summer is gone. i'm late for school!

1. are you happy with your job? why (not)? it's pretty good hours, i type when the inspiration hits, there are always more stories to tell, even though i'm currently bone-dry of ideas. a new concept will come to me, it's just a matter of time. time doesn't exist. i'm on a deadline.

2. what do you want? steady sleep. no more busywork. time to breathe. a vacation.

3. who first broke your heart? the publisher who gave me my first form letter, rejecting the Choose Your Own Adventure Book i wrote when i was ten years old. it was about a cat and a monster i called Cat Capturer. i felt my cat protagonist so much as i wrote him that it engendered my lifelong love of cats to this day. y'know, now that i think about it, if i had been published back then, i probably would have ended up like Bieber.

4. what's the biggest mistake you've made in a relationship? hiding the remote-control

5. what did you learn from your last lover/ex-SO? it's okay to share the remote, George Clooney is hot, Megan Fox isn't all that.

6. what novel has been instrumental in shaping your views at any point in your life? how so? The Bible...Of The Star Wars Universe. because not even sex is cooler than being a Jedi.

7. tell us about a current favorite tv show you enjoy. give us a synopsis of the show: Doctor Who. it's about this old dude with two hearts and a screwdriver who travels time and space with a gorgeous woman in a telephone booth, fighting garbage cans...

bonus: what is your current favorite song you have on constant loop? 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, it's already self-looping.