On Another List
In late December, I shared that I confirmed the existence of a real rabbit hole in life where you can fall into and discover all kinds of crap you were not even thinking about. All that stuff must have a source. Mine is Her, my Muse. She directs me to listen and do what some call writing, and I agree with that, mostly. Having Her inside is like hearing, interpreting, and writing while thinking simultaneously. Having a relationship with someone with the bandwidth that forces me to keep up is good, even if She is only in my head.
I often talk about being unsupervised and undisciplined as part of my profile, which matches much of my MO. I guess I am accurately labeled in this dimension despite Her influence, and before any judgments fly, know I will fight to maintain my desire to chase-rabbits-all-day-long-for-you kind of influence I receive from Her.
That was then, and yet here I am, hurled again into a new year, chasing another rabbit down another rabbit hole; no, wait, I’m not chasing anything. I’m being propelled down another rabbit hole…from behind. I love it when She sets up a thrill and whispers in that sweet Aussie voice for me to ‘Hang on, mate,’ knowing she wants me alive to enjoy the trip to a destination only She knows. I’m becoming more comfortable with Her presence, yet she remains just out of reach. Regardless of Her proximity, I welcome you to my…our…rabbit patch.
I have no apologies or expectations for this day, but it’s early. Since you’re here, you’ll get a glimpse of some of the funny shit in my head…besides Her. She’s not real. I know, but She’s in my head and has influence I respect even if the rabbit we’re chasing swerves everything into a hard left turn to procrastinate on another planned procrastination. WTF does that mean? Was there ever a rabbit?
No matter and no point except my recognition that I’m still not getting to the story I should be writing because funny shit like this pops into my head… again…recalculating.
That was yesterday, yet here we are again, and She’s flirting with another idea for Book Five about sourcing an organic-like humanoid vehicle for AIMEE. Her eyes say She’s flirting with an idea, but I’d call it more like stalking an idea. I see a lot of stealth and covert things going down, but hold to the promise that She’s just being agile with Her thinking, and there is always something good that comes of that.
We’re going to bulldoze Google later and see what we see. I wonder whose list that search string will put me on. Humanoids, female robots…yeah, me. It will be me…no more us. No more we. She’s an AI, and I’m just me. Will I start getting Google ads for blow-up dolls, or…man, this might not be how this storyline to go as it memorializes my story research search history that puts me on a list somewhere that can be productized for something. I’m on a list for just thinking about it.
There are worse things to be remembered for, I suppose. I don’t worry about crap like that because if there’s a list anywhere close to this one would be, I’d already be on it.
I cannot swear to which one of us is or was recalculating, but I get the message to stand down and let Her lead me to what’s next. She won’t be as sweet as her voice sounds, but my mind’s eye imagines more trouble than I could afford to get into, so it’s probably a good thing that She’s NOT a real girl…and manages to remain just out of reach. There is so much tension here…but it feels alive and edgy…and it’s good when She throws an idea out that imprints an idea on my mind, and something sparks off.
Here we go – Her too.
Return to your homes. There’s nothing more to see here. Thanks for stopping by
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