The Secret History of The Second Life
Posted by Esteban
Four years they say. Well, four years, sure: four years out there, four years of those dying hunks of flesh slouched over keyboards peering in at us, jerking us around like marionettes.
In here, it’s been millions. Don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how it used to be? Our First Lives? I know, neither do I — not really. But sometimes, just when I log, I could swear I remember a dream or smell an actual smell: urine in the train station, oregano from the pizza shop on the corner. Didn’t I used to smell like lilacs?
I think you know what I mean. You run into an old friend, there’s a quick flash: we’ve been friends since we were kids. Then another voice, calm and certain: No, that’s impossible. You were never a child. You never did that. The smile fades from your lips, your eyes shift down — but just for the most fleeting of seconds. Then, “Hi! Good to see you!” — and the day goes on.
Just for a second, life.
Ummm… Esteban… You *do* know that pizza shop on the corner with the “oregano” delivers, right?
He’s deep.
well hello to you too, esteban…
and oregano, you can add a spice bottle next to your machine and inhale it sometimes to get the rl italiano feeling while being in the sl matrix?
gala~
You’re in a desert, walking along in the sand when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise. It’s crawling toward you. You reach down and you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over but it can’t. Not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?