These past few eeeks in Second Life have been interesting. I guess t be fair, they’re always intetesting.
pause.
There is a group in Second life called “Get HIGH and Play Second Life”. It is one of the first weed groups I joined. There arremany others, but I always come bac to that one. I forget if it’s tag is ANybody else stoned? but I remmember I liked walking around with that above my head. In this world, I want people to know I’m high.
This group is mainly weed smokers playing sCEOND lIFE… EXACTLY WHAT IT IMPLIES. Whoop.s
I learned to be quiet about my activities beyond weed. I understand a majority of weed smokers belive in the motto, I don’t do drugs – I just smoke weed.
I’m a different circle of friends.
But I’ve always said Hey in that group when I was getting high. I have memories of embarassing myself more than once. I get inside my head believing I am appearing like the … well not like the cool good guys, but more like one of the craziues p[eople avoid.
But I figure weed smokers get it. They get sounding like an idiot.
It’s not quite as strong as alcol in making idiots and assholes and karayoke singers at 2am… but I figure it’s te best crowd to be a bit silly in front of.
Tonight, I happed to see two women who were weed smokers and chatted. I was higher than usual just at that moment, acting a little with boith heads, but — I jsut like meeting new peole who I might eb friends with in thi universe. I met two this evening and I have to believe my feelings that I looked like a weirdo and was rude to both of them, was in my head, or dismissed.
(heavy breath)
At least I’ve forgotten it.
I’ve been sharing thuis address more. Probably too much because I know there is bad stuff in the early pages I shuld not be sharing. I just dumped it all nline one day while es[ecially high on E.
MDMA. For me, a YES drugs.
But I am …
I am excited by the potential of so many scenarios… None I want to think through. I just.
Crap. My brain distracts me with the negative thought. My dialogue style of writing may be too hard to follow. As I was writing (text chat) with this woman from the group, I was obcessing over whether I’m total crap, or just favsninting enough.
I dream of fame, and then hope to hell I don’t get it.
“I don’t want to be famous,
I just want a few fans.”
(pause)
It frustrates me that blogs are read backwards, or from the middle both ways. My first “BOOK” was writtenn that way, but a personal serialized story is …
I have to understand that every blog entry I make, maybe be the visitors first impression, and that always gets me. In my writing, as in my life, I prefer to reveal my story my way.
Happy Jeff says, oh well – lets not dwel on that, and say we’ll write a book some day. I already have 100 ideaqs fdor title.
I am sad when I see how poorly I type when I’m not corecting. I know… I fear many passages will be totally lost because no re-read can guess what the first intention actuallyt was.  I forget the end of sentences while I’m talking.
Pause. Breath. Break.
End of Part 1.
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