I was captured by The Conductor for a few months. Now that I’m free again, I’ve discovered a thing called Wattpad and decided to try my hand (and foot, if it lets me) at it.
My current story starts here:
I can’t drive. I did once and was told I needed a driving license or I could go to jail. I escaped here to I wouldn’t have to go to jail! I tried to get a driving license, but you need Soshal Security for that.
I’m a little confused what Soshal Security has to do with Soshal Meedya. Does it protect you from getting frozen by Soshal Meedya? Whatever it is, I can’t drive or get a real job because of it.
So, instead of driving, I walk a lot or let other people drive. This is another odd Reality custom. Why can’t you just think about where you want to be and end up there immediately, like in books? Cut out the boring part, I say.
There are a lot of licenses here. I even need a card if I want to get my books from the big building on the edge of town… then I have to return them when I’m done!
If anyone can explain what’s secure about Soshal Security and how it works with Soshal Meedya, let me know.
I was sloshing along the sidewalk, aiming for every patch of shade, when some wonderfully nice humans offered me cookies, orange slices, and water. I happily sat and chatted with them for fifteen minutes, then they took me inside an air-conditioned truck and let me lie down. So nice!
They asked me a few questions that seemed a little personal, but I figured they were just trying to get to know me, so I answered. Just as I got comfortable, I learned why you don’t talk to strangers:
They shoved a needle in my arm and drained my blood!
For one thing, I didn’t know I had real blood. I mean, I’m a Figment. Apparently I’m a Figment who was written with blood. Thanks, my Author. Way to make me vampire prey.
Eventually a little bell dinged and the needle was removed. I was plied with more snacks and water, then cheerfully sent on my way.
Vampires ARE real…. but at least they’re polite.
I left the frozen Midwest and went to California. California means sunshine and warm, right?
Well, right, but someone must be messing with the temperature controls. It’s March. The temperature is hot. Don’t ask me how hot. I’m melting. I can’t type for long.
No one warned me that Figments can melt. I bet that’s really what happened to the Wicked Witch. She was from a dry story and someone moved her to a story with water. Insta-melt.
I’ll post something new when I’m not a Figment-puddle. At least it might be too hot for The Conductor, too.
Someone named Taylor Swift (she of the Pegicorn costume) insured her legs for forty million dollars. This means that if her legs go on strike, she gets money.
If this were Jonathan Swift, he’d insure his wit.
If it were Shakespeare, he’d insure his words.
I’m not sure what a Figment insures. My character?
What would you insure?
I’m having an issue with time. It flows in a straight line here. No jumping around. No occasional skips or repeats. People actually wait for things. You could grow old doing that.
I went to a library yesterday. I saw three people reading, eleven talking over homework, two browsing the aisles, one talking to a librarian, and forty-seven on computers. Based on those odds, all my books will need to be in electronic form just to have anyone read them.
Something to think about…
Apparently I hit a Data limit and was unable to Enter Net. I’m not sure what an android has to do with limiting my posts, but it happened. Maybe it was out of respect for the pointy-ear guy who went to the Captain’s Table. #LLAP
I tried to use something called WhyFie. Who knew Shakespeare had a hand in the EnterNet? I couldn’t Pass the Word, though, so I had to wait until the Data limit went away.
Lyphe is so incredibly confusing sometimes. No wonder real people read books.
I’m very confused. The state is named Mini Soda, but there’s no soda here. It’s all water! Lakes, lakes, and more lakes. If I ask for soda, I’m asked if I want a pop. Why would I want to pop?!
I came here to get away from the snow and cold, but there’s plenty of cold today. I don’t know what Fair in Height and Sell See Us has to do with temperature, but if the numbers are small, it’s cold! If the numbers are negative, it’s really cold. Of course it is… I’m negative about the cold, too!
I don’t think I’ll be here long. I can’t feel my fingers. How do you write if you can’t feel your fingers?
On a side note, I think I saw a Muse yesterday. Or a Fury. Maybe I’m running from them, not The Conductor.
I made it to Nuyark and there is lots of snow. Too much snow. Snow is cold, cold, cold! I heard there’s even more snow in Bahstun. I’m definitely not going there.
There is someone here in Nuyark called The Puhblishur. Sounds almost as scary as The Conductor. I don’t know what a Reejakeshun Letter is, but one made two writers I met cry. I might have to find a way to write without meeting The Puhblishur.
I think I’ll go back to the rain. Wet is better than cold.
I don’t understand how writing works here. I write things down… and nothing happens. My characters don’t show up. My scenery doesn’t change. Maybe it’s a quirk in the system I’m using. I’ll have to play around with it later.
I heard a rumor that writers often go to a place called Nuyerk. I heard another rumor that there is a lot of snow in Nuyerk. I’ve never seen real snow. I might have to go look.