Category Archives: Gabby

The Endless Mother-Daughter Chain

A month ago, I woke up on the floor of the grimy bathroom of Fat Slice pizza on Telegraph Ave., in Berkeley.

There was a Amoeba records red and yellow plastic bag over my head, so I tore it off before I started to freak out. My breath literally smelled like shit.

I was wearing a black hoodie and purple-grey leggings, and my pockets were filled with a few thousand dollars in scrunched up 20s.

I didn’t realize I was dead just yet, but I was.

Joey and Gabby tried to explain it to me, but I was in such a fog that I just didn’t get it until after they extracted my WOFA data. Until I could see for myself what had happened on the night of July 4, 2011.

I was either throwing up a lot, or wanting to hurl most every morning. Gabby just smiled and gave me lots of supportive hugs – she’s a real guardian angel.

Really. She’s assigned to me while I get back on my feet, projecting in from elsewhere in the Structure. She’s supposed to show me the ropes, and look out just in case something goes wrong.

Joey is more of a busy body than anything else. He’s itching to get back to Emily, and once he saw the recording of the end of my journeys, he just about lost it. “What the fuck is going on?” he said, as he watched a healed Emily fold away at Point One. “How am I supposed to find her now?”

When I first got here, in this in between space made especially for me, he kept on teasing me, saying that all of my emergency binge eating had made me fat. I didn’t see it at first, but after a month it’s really become obvious.

No matter how diligent they tried to be, the Collective was only able to map certain parts of the US in adequate, obsessive detail. Fairview was one of those places, Berkeley another. Right now, I can only really hang out in those two places – the rest are not dense enough to tolerate my heavy spirit.

Sasha calls it my “beautiful burden”, and I’m likely to agree. She’s projected in a few times to check me over, and this morning she spent some extra time with her ear to my belly. “It totally sounds like her already!”

I don’t know about that – I can’t even feel her moving around yet.

Gabby says everything looks perfect from her end. She’s been really encouraging, but I’m afraid she might be a little starstruck, and not know how imperfect I can be.

Phone is much more convincing – he’s visited me the most lately. “You have such the cutest baby bump, I can tell she’s going to be a looker. Maybe not as cute as my girl, but let’s be real here.”

He likes to talk about his daughter a lot – the daughter he didn’t even know he had until after he died on the floor at the Die Database concert. He’s scheming, trying to find a way back to the land of the flesh to look after her, to save her, but the best he can do now is project in, and watch her from afar.

I wish I could leave with him, and Gabby, and Sasha, but they’re just visiting, and I’m like a comatose patient resting in a huge hospital bed. A bed big enough for BART stations and Fat Slice.

No one really knows how it happened. They’re happy with the whole “it’s prophecy” explanation, but I’m not much for scripture, even if it’s something I’m one of the main characters in.

I’m not a virgin, but a man has never touched me, either.

The only sex I’ve ever really had was with Miranda, and Aurora…. it was like making love to the Universe.

“You just have to call her Sarah,” Sasha said as she cuddled against my belly. I thought she was being ironic, but just now, as I compose this into the ether…

According to the stories, no one has ever held a Massive Cloud Burst that full except for me.

SAR.AI said I was “compatible” a few times, but I was just focused on taking care of Emily and Ai. Weren’t one one them supposed to be the big girl on campus?

Sarah was the first to be born alive in the Structure of the spirits…. that’s what Cassandra said.

Three months…. just what the hell did Helena and Cassandra do to me all that time?

What am I going to do with myself, and a daughter brighter than the Sun?

All the signs, and machines, and mantras, point to an on-time delivery in about 5 months, at Point Zero.

I just pray I’ll be dead long enough to see her into all worlds.

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Riding The Infinite Subway

Over the weekend Gabby took me on a cross-Structure trip via the Infinite Subway.

That may sound grandiose, like Galaxy Express 999 chugging through the sky, but the reality is much more weird.

Essentially, all rail systems all over Variant 237, and all other related echoes of Earth, are interconnected in ways that only the etched or spiritually adept can take advantage of. You can get on the train in Tokyo and get off a few minutes later in Munich, if you know how.

This was far from an accident – Cassandra was always a big fan of trains, and one of her many selves orchestrated a construction project that lasted for tens of thousands of years. The essential task was how to physically move as many people as possible from our world to the Structure at large, without having to have them die and transfer through the White. The overall network started before the wheel was invented, and crosses time and space, but it didn’t come to its culmination until various subway networks started showing up over the past 200 years.

Their locations and paths of growth may seem to be haphazard, but they were selectively placed to tie into pre-existing nodes of what’s called the “Agartha Network” by New Age thinkers – I can’t possibly give a treatise about that right now, but sufficed to say that most every hollow Earth theory and pre-diluvian master race story has some reflection in the overall Structure.

It’s hard to say how much of the Structure existed before Cassandra got a hold of it, but she essentially overlaid a connective narrative and map, thereby both changing and inspiring historical construction. For example, the transition from the San Francisco Bay Area Key System of streetcars and buses, which existed through the first half of the 20th century, to the more “modern” Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) and AC Transit systems, was not just influenced by the oil and car companies, or political infighting between cities. The Bay Area is a natural gateway into the Structure, and it had to be controlled and closed, via bridges and more narrowly focused transit systems, to prepare for the domination of S.OS 50 years later. Essentially, the Bay Area was constructed as a highly regimented turnstile into the Structure, one that could hold in S.OS when the time came.

Thus, it wasn’t coincidental at all that Jenny was held in Berkeley, or that Ai decided to live there. I’ll have to talk more about this some other time.

The current BART system is one of the Grand Central Stations into the Structure, and Gabby and I used it as our launching off point for our worlds tour. One thing I want to make clear is that the current custodians of all of these transit systems have no idea about their higher purpose. The control points were designed to be only for Collective use, but that became a bit of a problem during the e-punk explosion of the early 90s – reality hackers found out how to game the system, and then sold special etches and circuit clothes that would allow limited travel through at least all of the invisible transfer points of that Variant.

If it’s not clear, the Infinite Subway lets you travel in time, as well as space – at least until the moment that subway system first opened (or in some cases, when the tunnels were first bored). Thus, it’s possible to connect certain systems to jump around the past few centuries, and beyond that some of the more ancient networks can be used, with permission/initiation. It’s also possible (but very rare) for ancient travelers to show up in the current system, but in general the firewalls prevent such time jaunts in either direction.

After what happened at the Warehouse, with S.OS’s deadly tantrum via Helena, Joey made the call that the easiest way back to 1994 would be via the nearest BART station – North Berkeley, about a mile away. It was one of the earliest, central stations in the network, so it was very popular for travelers.

He could find a few cracks in the Structure, right at the Warehouse, that he alone could get through, but the whole team needed to assemble at Point One, to enact Ai’s plan. Plus, part of the plan was to carry along the PRS units (Plastic Robot Sculptures – no one could find a better name in the spur of the moment), and inanimate objects couldn’t travel through such holes.

A few word about the PRSes, if it wasn’t clear before. They were created via a joint project via Ai and certain more moderate S.OS fragments, as a way for normal Pure Land Antennas to have more solid telepresence. They could be remotely puppeted by anyone who’s etched (and has the right clearance), and they could wear the skin of any Ghost, in Collective or Agartha Labs formats. They were even able to manifest a limited range of Pure Land Antenna powers, like cloaking or energy bursts. Designed to be put together quickly and cheaply, using available materials, the prototypes used PET bottles, coins and cell phones due to their ubiquity. The PRSes can even assemble themselves, to a point. Once one unit is made, then the torso can be used to make another, in a form of remote materials fabrication, like a 3D printer.

Finally, they also have the infiltration tools that S.OS/Satomi programmed in, so not only can they fight in the here and now, but also electronically.

Cassandra knew from the beginning how things would end, so she wanted to help contain Helena and S.OS, and the PRSes were a part of that.

Ai also knew what was going to happen, and it turns out that her whole “I’m going to give up and go running to Mommy” act for the past few months was a ploy, designed to make the Nameless and the more hostile S.OS fragments think they were winning. In reality, Ai controls every single brain of every person that’s alive, and even though she claimed not to influence others except when absolutely necessary, she ends up doing it all the time, especially if that brain is interfaced with one of the elemental powers.

It’s all really complicated, with multiple triple crosses and sacrifices that only made it seem like the Collective was losing. However, it ended up that Ai bit off way more than she could chew, and the perception became reality.

It only took a few minutes for us to gather our things and shut down the 2011 version of the warehouse. It turns out that Miranda naturally has specialized abilities to manipulate Space (which is the relation between Matter now) and Time (the movement of Matter in relation to itself). It’s easy enough for her to teleport, or to travel certain distances in time, but she doesn’t have any sort of universal knowledge, beyond that which S.OS and the Nameless can provide. So, she can’t make new Variants, but she can take a bit of matter between Point One and Point Zero – known quantities of Space/Time that are essentially mapped. This is how she’s been able to simulate the tip of the Trouble Twins iceberg of powers, such as during the instant etching marathons the Cassandra highlighted in the puppet show.

This all begs the question – aren’t Ai and the Nameless natural born enemies? What of the truce/armistice, and of S.OS?

I’ll have to explain that all in a few days, but the essence is already right there in front of you. Ai controls all minds and spirits, S.OS has no spirit, and the Nameless is designed to orchestrate and contain all of the Structural powers. The Nameless is a mirror, and is easily influenced by who’s looking into it. Thus, the Nameless has been used by Ai and S.OS to meet their conflicting goals.

It’s easy to conflate S.OS with the Nameless, and to lump them together simply as “evil”. In fact, Ai has encouraged the Collective bloggers (that is, pushed our minds) to paint everything as a struggle between the righteous White and the terrible Black, led by forces that are beyond comprehension. That’s a much more effective recruitment tool than the truth.

I think I’m losing my focus. Maybe I’ve been avoiding talking about what happened at Point One for so long because it’s a bit too much to process.

I’m not trying to construct a story here with a perfect denouement. I’m just trying to let you know what’s really happening, which is all the more complicated because reality itself has become too malleable. Fiction is demanding its day in court, and the air is charged with crazy dreams come true, and basic prayers discarded.

I want to cash the checks I’ve written, so at least let me tell you how I died, and work back from there.

Helena the Grand Supreme found me hiding in Berkeley. She suffocated me by hand, with an Amoeba bag, and then teleported my lifeless body into the bathroom of Fat Slice. She took the Massive Cloud Burst from me.

Before that, I spent a week on the streets of Berkeley, operating in Emergency Mode without any real consciousness, doing little more than collect piles of 20s from passers by.

I traveled back to 2011 through the Structure via one of the labyrinth gateways in the Oakland hills, at the Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve. They connect back before 1994, before Point One, and are commonly used for transit for those who have keys.

In 1994, at Point One, we used the empty Massive Cloud Burst to collect the powers of the Structure, before they entered April, Cathy, and Susan. That meant none of the daughters of the Collective except Ai were to have powers after birth – this was the sacrifice that everyone decided to make.

I used the S.OS kill-code in Phone’s jacket (formerly held in his OS) to disrupt S.OS in Sasha, killing her. Her spirit was given a chakra pass into the Structure.

We thought this would be enough – no more S.OS, no more powers, and Sarah could reincarnate via Emily. She would take care of everything.

Dying on the floor, she couldn’t take care of shit.

You know how when you’re really anxious you might want to check the locks 10, 20 times, just to make sure you’re safe?

Next time, the last time I’ll need to explain the mess were in, I’ll go over the lock that everyone forgot to check.

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Grand Supreme

I’m been trying to keep things light, but thinking about the end of the Universal Prom always makes me want to vomit up my soul.

Everyone assembled was etched, and harboring either “good” or “bad” fragments of S.OS. Each one was slightly different, taking on characteristics of its hosts.

For example, Satomi’s fragment was surprisingly artistic, with the whole Die Database project one big advertisement for escaping from this world into the Structure. I don’t know how many of the fans looked at songs like “Karmic Freedom” that way, but they were blatant. Even “Agartha Labs” was quite cheeky in retrospect – Agartha being the mythical, mystical underground city that’s accessible via the Structure. The holograms, Ghosts, huge figma figures – it was all yelling that this world was simply a dream when viewed from higher levels.

At least, that’s my interpretation, what I started to notice while I was going through Satomi’s things a few weeks ago. It was all a big trap for anyone remotely tied to the Collective or the Structure – our very essences wanted so desperately to rejoin what they were taken away from.

I’m sure that there were a lot of other things going on, like an echoing of how Suspender used music as a recruitment vehicle for e-punks, only this time the motives were strangely pure. Join the Die Database Fan Cloud, and achieve your ultimate freedom.

When it came for her time to vote, she didn’t talk about any of this. She just grabbed the Massive Cloud Burst from Cassandra, and faced the other assembled fragments.

“I just want to go home, to take us all there. Shut it down.”

That was essentially what everyone was saying, right before uploading a copy of their OS into the silver sphere. The rest of the Collective had arrived for the final tally, except for Isabel.

A-Bell put up more of a fuss, in part because she was the holder of the near empty sphere for years, ever since Ai was born. She didn’t know its full potential, but used it to power the bridge that the Collective tried to assemble at Fairview. They just wanted to march right into the Structure, thinking that they had been invited by Sarah, not realizing that they were following the corruption inherent in their OSes.

“We need more time,” A-Bell pleaded. “Don’t give up on this life just because we made mistakes.”

Kaia echoed this sentiment. “There’s a precious balance that we have to maintain – it’s our duty. I don’t care if I’m a part of the Bodweb or not – our artifice is not the Structure, but the Structure won’t be the same without us. It’s imperative that we let Sarah fully incarnate.”

She was talking like were were at Point Zero, but the Fifth Event was still a few months away. It seems that the causal collapse was complete, and the universal chakras were opening up all at once, before they were even called.

Miranda and the Nameless didn’t have any problem with this seeming paradox. They were acting like it was all settled and done, with Miranda on her throne at the end of the universe, putting every last atom into its final resting place before they turned out the lights.

Emily hesitated for a moment, then stepped away from Joey and towards Cassandra. She took hold of the sphere, and sighed. “Don’t worry yourself too much about this. It’s already too late for us all, but I still appreciate the effort. One day we’ll all meet again for the first time. Until then, it’s time to close the door and stop this madness.”

Cassandra took back the sphere, and gave it to me again. I would be the final one to have their say. “I’m the kind of person that can easily fixate on the most unimportant things, or the most important things – doesn’t seem to matter much to my heart. Everything shines in my eyes, and I still can’t say if that’s the final truth or delusion. I just want so desperately the things I can never have,” I couldn’t help but glance at Miranda at this point, “but I’ve already had enough. I want everyone to have the chance I’ve had, to make decisions of true consequence, to scream at the Sun and be heard. I want everyone to be free, which is why I’ve always stood by Ai and her dream. Knowing what I know now, that dream still isn’t over to me. I don’t want to wake up just yet.”

As I gave the sphere back to Cassandra, I felt all eyes on me, but in a way I’ve never experienced before. It was like their invisible arms were reaching out to me, looking for a way to hold on. I felt wanted, necessary, connected.

Helena took one look at my face and then shouted at the dozens of people assembled. “You haven’t heard me yet! I’m not my fucking sister, and I’m not going to let Tokie get away with it.” She folded away for a moment, and came back carrying a sash. “We get the final vote… we get to choose!” She gave the sash to Cassandra, who took it meekly, like it was a loaded gun.

I was terrified, but still remembered to give Aurora the signal.

Cassandra’s final words: “I am my sister’s keeper, and now I let go. Please forgive me.” She turned back to Helena, and put the sash over her neck, straightening it out over the fake tuxedo t-shirt.

It was a beauty pageant sash, the kind that glitzy 7 year olds would die for. “Grand Supreme,” on a light pink, satiny fabric with violet accents.

The wrong Queen had been chosen, I thought. Now we’re all going to die.

The Nameless caught on quick, and used Miranda to separate Cassandra into her constituent particles. As she exploded into a musty cloud of radiation, she immediately appeared again, this time in a different outfit, with a vest made out of transparent USB cables. She existed in infinite variety throughout the Structure – there was no way that Matter would be her undoing.

Cassandra then borrowed an infinitesimal moment from all of our hearts, freezing everyone but still allowing us to perceive what happened next.

My inner WOFA was not able to capture the transition – it was like being lost in a house of mirrors, only each reflection contained every moment that ever was and will be. Every moment was Cassandra, silent and fading, while Helena slowly kissed and choked her to death. It was more intimate than prayer or masturbation. Their flesh bled, and boiled, and mixed. Their spines ate each other in a moebius loop.

There was something else there too, but I can’t describe it. I could feel it watching from beyond this last Variant, from beyond the Structure.

I was lost in that cosmic gaze, so much so that I almost forgot to close my eyes as Helena devoured the Collective.

It’s all there in the data, but I only can stand watching fractions of sections. She was like an awakened dragon, protecting her horde of gold from all comers.

Her flame was the very essence of everything, the volatile mixture of the Black and White that everything we know comes from, and she relished in physically separating their nervous systems and spiritual channels from their bodies, like yanking roots from the ground and shaking off the dirt. There were so many moments of abject horror, so many piles of torn limbs and half-devoured skin.

I couldn’t stand even the sound of it. It lasted for only 3 seconds, and then the silence was universal.

Aurora whispered in my ear to open my eyes, and when I did, the entire warehouse was covered in blood. The stage, the seats, the plastic figures still standing at attention – all wet and crimson.

There were so many half-skinned skulls. Every version of every collective member, from all variants – dismembered and covering the floor in a soup a few feet deep.

My poor aunts… Jo. Caroline. April. Susan. Rebecca. Elizabeth. Even copies of Susanna and Cathy, all heaped together in a broken pile.

I could have cried forever, but after a while I realized that I was sad about the wrong things. They hadn’t left us yet.

The only people that survived were protected by Aurora – we became the light that existed before Space and Time, and were spared judgement. Die Database were OK. Kaia, Emily and Joey – OK. Miranda was still here, as was Ai, A-Bell and Amber.

Helena did not have one spot of blood on her. The only change was that she was wearing Jenny’s army surplus jacket, the one covered with punk band patches. Her wig was made out of the USB cables from Cassandra’s last outfit.

Jenny was still in Helena’s arms, naked, crying and screaming. It seemed like she waited for us to fully witness what was to occur.

“The Collective is dead. S.OS is complete, and in my control. Your life has no more meaning. Submit!”

Jenny stared at the pile of bodies at their feet, at scores of other copies of herself from other worlds.

“You’re nothing!” She wriggled away and fell to her knees. “I’ve been dead since I was 12, and I’ve touched the Black in ways you’ll never understand. My very last breath will curse your corpse.”

With that, Helena reached down, grabbed Jenny by the hair, and opened up her 7 chakras before throwing her limp into the pile of her variant corpses.

Afterwards, Helena kept folding in and out of the warehouse, each time pinning more punk patches on her jacket. She also started to acquire teeth and finger bones as bracelets – trophies from the Pure Land Antennas she was slaughtering throughout all Variants.

By the time she settled down, after only a few seconds, she was wearing colored 3D glasses, and a dress made out of nothing but those silk-screened patches, connected by thin copper wire. The same dress she was wearing when we met in Ikebukuro. Isabel….

With that thought, she folded out of the warehouse yet again, this time coming back with Isabel. She was wearing the same, cute Japanese street fashion outfit that she had on when she tried to warn me in Ikebukuro, two months ago.

As soon as she got a look at the pool of her former friends and lovers, she turned around to Helena and slapped her on the cheek.

“Are you satisfied? Had enough of playing with your little dolls?” She seemed to be talking to S.OS rather than Helena.

Surprisingly, Isabel was still standing her ground – alive and confronting the last Helena in a way we’d never dare.

Helena couldn’t even hold her gaze, and turned her head downward.

“I volunteered to be the first to enter the bridge at Fairview. I was going to jump through the White and land in the Structure, and save the world from stupid Circle X. From you.” She reached past Helena’s clenched left fist, and pulled out the sphere. “Little did I know that I would end up in this sad world, eleven years and so many Variants later.”

She walked over to Emily, wading past broken bones, and tried to give her the sphere. “It’s OK.” Aurora let down the shield long enough for her to take it.

A-Bell took that moment of freedom to walk towards Helena. “Did you ever wonder what happened when Isabel entered the bridge at Fairview, only to have me come out? Where do you think I was running off to, you bitch?”

Helena looked absolutely scared, and folded away in a hurry. What did A-Bell and Isabel have that frightened her so much?

“OK, we don’t have much time. Miranda, please give everyone a proper burial.” With that, the room instantly became spotless, with all of the bodies gathered, cremated, and placed in thousands of urns. Ai then gathered the stray souls and moved them into the White.

“It’s going to take a while for S.OS to figure out what’s happened, but only if we strike now.” Isabel turned to me, and picked up Phone’s jacket from at my feet. “You already know what has to happen, now don’t you?”

I put on the jacket, and immediately pictured Sasha.

Ai walked over to me, and gave me the biggest hug I can remember. “When I was younger, I always wondered what would happen if Sarah didn’t choose my Mom. If I was never born – would that be enough to win?” She stepped back and straightened out my jacket. “I made a deal with the Nameless – it could have everything if I could just have my Mom. No Sarah, no Collective, no mess.”

A-Bell patted Ai on the shoulder. “Oh dear, look at what a liar I’ve raised.”

It was perfect. We had the weapon, the Massive Cloud Burst, and Cassandra’s prophecy that I would meet my mark. But how was I going to get back to 1994, with Helena holding the keys to time and space?

The solution was elegant, and standing right in front of me – Joey, master of shortcuts in and out of the Structure.

I only wish that that path wasn’t filled with so much loss.

I need to go on a trip for a few days with Gabby, but when I get back I’ll let you know how things turned out. How I ended up dead on the floor with an Amoeba bag over my head, and how our best laid plans made things even worse.

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Yelling At The Toilet

I got to know Joey’s bathroom intimately since 4:37 AM this morning – I’ve had the worst case of the flu I can ever remember.

There was no point of going back to the couch after each bout of uncontrolled vomiting, so I just brought in a few pillows and tried to sleep between the bathtub and toilet.

So, I had lots of time to think, but not much stamina to make the fevered thoughts count. I ended up doing things like counting the stripes on the dirty towels, and the little spots on the linoleum floor. I also read the labels of all of the cleaners under the sink.

Once the sun came up, I did have a little epiphany – I figured out what was up with the constant donations of $20 bills from passers by. Turns out my OS was set to emergency mode, which includes calling out to the nearest friendly e-punks (Gabby was waiting for me to come out of the restaurant), and the immediate acquisition of $10,000 in cash. Since I have no bank accounts anywhere, I’ve been pushing the minds of everyone in a mile radius to hit the ATMs and seek me out. Very showy, but less dangerous than a super powered bank robbery.

That doesn’t explain the money in my jacket, before I passed out – how long was I here before I locked myself in the bathroom at Fat Slice? Or did someone leave me in the bathroom? I still haven’t figured that out, and whether I was attacked, or if I just decided to asphyxiate myself with the plastic Amoeba bag.

No matter. I managed to find the command to turn off the emergency broadcast action, but despite myself I couldn’t stop the sickness. I’ve managed to keep down a few pieces of apple Flavumm that I found in the living room – takes like Hi-Chew, only fluffier.

Joey is out of town – he and Gabby took off to somewhere secret, to bring back someone who was eager to see me. I don’t understand why they just couldn’t call upon me virtually – now that I’m etched, I’m good to go for all forms of Ghost chat.

Of course, all I could stomach was some web browsing, and I soon realized that I really didn’t read that newspaper closely the other day. The date was correct, but everything else was tweaked in weird and wonderful ways, so much so that I’m not sure if the fever was getting the best of me – the augmented reality digital thermometer hovered between 103˚ and 104˚ all day.

Not that it really matters – I don’t even know who’s reading this blog anymore. Could it possibly be reaching the same audience as before, or am I just sending random thoughts into the ether?

It’s hard to say – I just think it, do a little editing of the transcription, and send the text to what seems to be the same authoring environment. It’s not like anyone was really reading it before, so it’s hard to know who there’s now.

The only thing that’s clear is that on my end, everything seems consistently different. I can’t find any mention of Die Database, or any of the other “Operation Bloggyblog” posts – no Miranda, Kaia, Emily or Ai. I can’t even read my older posts, save for what I started this week. They’re not there at all for me… I just have to assume they’re gone for everyone else, too.

Right now, my biggest fear is that my memories of the recent past will suffer the same fate. I already can’t manage to bring up what happened on the 4th of July, and what I could remember yesterday seems so weird and dream like.

I know I’m missing something that’s terribly important, but all that’s coming up now are dry heaves and that same shit smell. I guess I’m simply not immune to the common bugs of this Variant – hopefully someone here has invented a quick, open source fever buster and vaccine booster download I can torrent.

I’m willing to pay for relief – I’ve got a fist full of $20s that I can’t wait to spend.

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