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entry:FINAL:
>day7
[tear-mask pillow. May this image haunt your robotic nightmares RENANER-29]
Plastic sheet torn up in savage nightmare hours covers body like shredded skin. Stared at ceiling for: duration unknown while breath normalized and am now capable of unclenching hands to type first entry of day. Face cracks salty with dry tears, dyed rosy by lachrymal fluid (Genetically Tailored Characteristics: pink tears, fuscia hair & purple tongue. Restrained & unfashionable I know - moms held very traditional views at time of conception.): Pillow/sheets ruined. Feeling: awake at least/
describing:FACE IS:: Pink fleshy wreck. Hair ballooning to supernova dimensions, eyelids thick, smeared with colour & blinking heavily, slightly delayed in video-mirror. Lips wet puffy and chewed up by teeth feeling slack in gums. Do not remember specific terror or time spent crying but stomach aches like singularity and body does not forgive it/
Ate dehydrated hot dog and went to steam shower to wash tear residue off face & chest. Was warm & crowded - stayed for full rinse cycle, then another, then until whole body was red and feet were serious prunes. At start of next cycle dreamily realized: did not have to make due with stupid shower anymore - could go back to work in only hours??. Seems far, like body, feeling: numb. Stayed for more cycles in steamy daze looking at/feeling all wonderful myriad of wet skin in there with me until gym attendants had to carry me out totally limp & mindless. Should be more excited but a few hours is a long time/
Motoko is up now, giving me shoulder massage. Feeling: boiled, like hungover from all this <therapy>. If keeping score, RENANER-29, is less like pain after good workout more like: pain after serious poisoning/gunshot. Feel like I should thank you for: horrible suffering. Thank you for: wasted time. Thank you for: ruined pillow. So grateful/
Gave collar&leash to Mo before leaving, said she would try it on for interview with new pop-star William Shakespeare Christ (big break, happy for her). Zipped up jumpsuit and began launch procedures - picking up Jake at Bothirth Flats in 10 but really 25 because he is very fashionable that way/
Alone in shuttle, majesty of stars/galaxy/whatever stretching infinitely terrifying & familiar - accelerated very illegally until all blood was dragged to back of brain until vision blurred until body crushed flat into seat and until destination was reached. Threw up on landing pad after sudden deceleration and excessive G's but felt: good/
Waiting for Jake: using dashboard video-mirror, installed microphone tooth-caps, various jaw-click transmitters and channel switchers under my tongue. Mouth feeling normal and full again: loud as light, powerful and hub-like/
Piloting - Jake clears spam from my inboxes. Conversation:: >"Transom Newt"? >Keep >"Sunrise E."? There's like a million messages from him >Her*. Loser junkie DJ wants to play LOVELYSS mainstage. Delete >"Celebrity Nip Slips"? >Keep
Dear RENANER-29/ Final transmission from L. SASSY your victim. I am so alive, one hand typing to you with middle finger the other pushing throttle to deadly maximums as Jake screams in the seat behind me. Your therapy could not destroy me. You could not cure me of my personality. Am ready to live again now. Prepared for work and hell and anything but inaction. Hope you have learned lesson.
Now my hands relax and my legs tense up and shiver with the savage tremendous rattling of the shuttle, a clear purpose in my head and blood in my heart. Feeling: strong like gravity, unstoppable like life - DANGEROUS. Feel like: ancient fertility idol, primordial indestructible WOMAN curved like solar system with her tits full of MILK and LIFE-POWER. Full of: ruthless lust & inexorable discipline. Will go back to LOVELYSS. Will hula hoop galaxy and crush suns between my legs. Will climb on to the highest pulpit on the brightest stage and bite my clothes off and sacrifice my beauty to the gods of bass - will cover my skin with the crowd and dance and dance and dance until the catwalks are slick with my sweat and when I slip into oblivion the Universe will know I LIVED because I pumped my violent body full of music and colours and sex and darkness and/ love.
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entry:SEVENTH:
>day6
conversation::
>A brace?
>Yeah Mo I really seriously injured myself
>LOL why not just, like, switch off? Aren't you ambidexterous?
>Only for most things
Jake is on way to Joker's Cloud as I type this, meeting him there. Taking public shuttle soon (nurse recommended not operating personal spacecraft for few days), first time doing so in: approx. 6 solar months. Docking station packed, shuttle arriving now/
Dock attendants crammed all passengers into car until physical limit reached - am typing entry wedged between: two El-Viz, comfortable/soft Uranian and handsome heterosexual human couple. Female giving dirty looks understandable given physical position relative to partner - tried moving to accommodate modesty/jealousy but only managed to unwrap leg from around male's neck. Pretending not to notice, turning on public-transport bitch-face but smiling inwardly> Loud music crappy speakers pressed bodies bumpy ride: home/sweet/home/
RE: <wrist injury>: must wear dark-gray rubberlike medi-brace on right arm fortunately should mesh with other LOVELYSS outfits so will not be issue upon return which is very soon/
Kissed Jake long and deep but not like sex-wise is more like we share a body even though it is two bodies. Like: platonic sexual intimacy? Difficult to explain anyway we hadn't seen each other in so long so we took the treadmill to the beach and got naked and didn't talk about anything and danced in the oily black water/
describing:JOKER'S CLOUD IS::
Coastal resort in overgrown tropical bio-capsule. White pseudosand beaches like trenches holding back impenetrable wall of dark violet foliage that covers median strip. Sent my moms here for their 58th anniversary and they hated it but they hate any place that doesn't serve micro-organic earthbeef synthetics/
beach::
>Everyone's looking at us
>I know :)
On atomic sandbar watching Jake do handstands while I build sand structure based loosely on early Terran post-Rapture super-cathedral design (pseudosand very sticky/slightly malleable, offering: interesting architectural possibilities). Follow jagged lines of his hips down to his inverted face and can't help but feel there is part of him missing but for now must focus on buttressing starboard gallery/
Watched 3 sunsets over two hours, memorizing hues for new lightshow plots on Stage 11. Getting quietly drunk (drinking: eldred rasoline-9) on beach trying to get the dark water off our skin/
Only with Jake do I feel this mental space / reason <unknown>. Cradled his head between my greasy-black legs and thought about myself and played in his hair. Did nothing? If this was your ultimate goal RENANER-29 well done only took 130+ hours and lasted 80 seconds before next project was inspired hope it was worth it/
[pseudosand sculpt]
Becoming apparent that Jake does not know G went through with hetero wedding, does not know about M at all. Not sure how to prepare him for such impact / will wait & see what happens. Figure: he will find out soon enough/
Said goodbye to Jake felt very sad even though will see him tomorrow. Taking shuttle home pressed against Phylusian worm. Just feel: uncomfortable/slimy. Just feel: hollow. Black still stuck under fingernails/
WORST!WORST: complex infranet provider is DOWN for <<*maintenance*>>??? NEVER HAPPENS would complain but provider is down obviously so how could I even who designed this? Motoko is ASLEEP! already how in this situation??/
Went to steam compartment to calm down but was empty so: pointless. Ordered mustard from restaurant but did not have patience to just wait for it so: left before being served. Ran on hypermill until falling off and wheeled in AEROTRIM until arms gave out and when I got out <puked>. Cleaned up grateful for something to do and returned to apt. body ruined,dizzy. Opening airlock saw room was empty and lights off and music off and felt allatonce purposelessNOTHING of empty space, knew that no soul could see me & so that I did not exist or even if I did it could not be proven. Opened mouth to scream but no one could hear so made no sound. Crawled into drawer and tore at plastic sleepwrap with blackened claws/
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entry:SIXTH:
>day5
[don't say I'm not giving this my all, like 110%]
Checked into hotel with new project drafted by Motoko: list of activities perpetrated by the frequently bored/unemployed (would have corrected "unmotivated*/parasitic* but did not want to have that whole "closet objectivist" argument again). Suspect she is tired of having me around the place do not blame her but this list is a <great relief>/
describing: HOTEL IS:: 27-story fortified kongcrete bunker on Pond which is: a barren but dramatic-looking ice planet full of hermitic artists looking for the kind of solitude/peace-of-mind you can only achieve when no one is charging you rent. No night-life I was able to find out about then again night lasts approx. 30 minutes here. Hotel has "water"-slide equipped with a retro gliding fluid and zero-G foam-pool but they wouldn't let me use it without a bathing suit/
ROOM SPEC.'s:: too big/quiet, special hovering O-bed with latex sheets and two-way curtains so I could see the glaciers with them closed which is the wrong way if you ask me but there was a decent sound-carpet with good selection of intergalactic radioposts so I turned that on and just kinda rolled around on it, vibrating uselessly/
Indigenous Pond Hotel employees: very hairy humanoids, cannot spell/pronounce their proper appellation. Was served excellent heatloaf & a snocone by female with beautiful beard and very fetching part between her breasts. Could never pull that off/
Went in for spa treatment in sub-basement cavern where geothermal geysers heat the Thorium plates. Was given special robe made of real plant-based fabric and lay down for appointment with incredibly skilled masseur who rubbed my back with a kind of polar squid (? will research later) for maybe 45 minutes. Vigorous. Looking at his gorgeous arms kneading my quads as I type this, vaguely trying to focus on sensation but mostly cannot help thinking: spa could double local heat conservation if vent-caps were switched to burst-fire shutter programs instead of timelocks/
Sitting at deserted Hotel bar feeling: limp. Lonely minutes of constant daylight fraying nerves; can't properly <dance> in daylight. Must be why these planets are so dull - lacking anonymity of night/space-void. View from glass portal shows scenic/grandeur/panorama/sweeping/majestic/farscape (pick two). Trying to get drunk on local hyperwine made from fossils/
Finished pity-party at bar / decided to get pro-active & back to Mo's List of Bored Practices / blood boiling in weird way / when that masseur ran up my / got to room and locked door / and did that thing with his / picked up list & picked item at random but reading that last part back maybe <random> is too strong a word. Truly the human mind is a mystery in any case it was on the list so had to comply. Threw open curtains & unlocked door (+risk factor). Grinded down onto sound-carpet (jammed to a powerful thumping Deep House station) and went until hand cramped into terrible claw and until it felt like arm would snap off at elbow and until legs didn't work and only stopped when I couldn't feel anything anywhere anymore/
>mindlesslyspent my dreamingeyes saw a gray/grey coast and an apple perfect &white<3/
New record for that, anyway. Sent last couple hours of footage to Jake - he thinks camshows are hilarious and he once set one of my best ones to a laugh-track which should have been demeaning but was weirdly appropriate. Uploaded video & checked list which said <order orange pseudo-carbohydrates fried in animal fats> which I did while nursing aching wrist. Next item was watch narrative projection until falling asleep so: racked up "Wind in the Laserbeams" and various other titles that were recommended. First 20 minutes was romantic dreck but inspired/justified the following in-depth analysis, review and minute-by-minute suggested improvement for the reels. First essay begins at line break::
[ARTBOT#RENANER-29: NOTE: {wordcount: excessive. content: irrelevant}: REDACTED]
Really hit nail on head there I think. Could go on but still have many list-items to complete before check-out. <Hopefully> will keep me busy through night so won't have to attempt sleeping again. Signing off now - getting hard to type/
Hand still really seriously cramped maybe go see nurse later/
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entry:FIFTH:
>day4
Tried to sleep for at least 10 minutes and that was time wasted enough. Did stretches to prevent further lactic acid buildup from inverted crunch-binge and searched leisure guide directories for nearby star clusters and signed up for a bunch of mods, strategically scheduled to include no downtime. First one is in Fou Farine and starts in 32 minutes so: signing off/
conversation::
>Where you going Sassafrass?
>All over. Signed up for a bunch of shit
>You know what you should do is you should go and get yourself some freaking clothes. So you could wear them :P
>I have clothes
>You have clothe. You have super grody cargos and half a shirt
>So order me some dress pants from the Tube
>Grody to the max
CLASS1
Location: Fou Farine asteroid belt, "Texus Nexus"
Subject: "Meditation: Know your Mind!"
Started strong, good speaker who did not mince/waste words but then everyone sat down and closed their eyes and didn't move for a long time. Committed opening speech to memory for future reference, thought about next class, pain in glutes and maybe getting Motoko a present later?/
EDIT: After one (1) hour of sitting he got up and thanked us for being with him. That was the whole thing/
CLASS4
Location: Mboklak moon, "Center Highwind"
Subject: "Modern Q-Math Applications in Operational {C}"
amlooking forward to this one most, excited 2maybe apply newtechniques to personal programs Updating> soon/
Lecturer passed right over late Argonic base-12 antidifferential subcalculus and did not take into account or even <mention> discovery of Othean numbers or the new Bluthian "musical" equations. Could not give straight answer to any of my queries - either did no recent research or is pandering to laymen. Washout. Leaving/
CLASS5
Location: Daisy Too, "S. Valley Mall"
Subject: n/a
Was supposed to take survivalism crash-course in Daisy Too outback but instructor had apparently been killed the day before by a supergator so: piloted shuttle to a small offworld mall and bought most expensive items with best fit then threw them into shuttle incinerator as I left. Not sure why I did that/
@Pet Store bought matching collar&leash for Mo/
CLASS8
Location: Tori Alpha, "Destroyko-69's Community Center"
Subject: "Make Something with Your Hands!" (approx: I forget)
Originally signed up to co-teach advanced laser-pole class with awesome Unsect instructor next door but received more nipple-voltage/therapy upon submitting my application so I took this wet-clay workshop instead. Was OK, made a self-cleaning ashtray, teacher seemed to disapprove of my using robotic components but I brought them from home so ??/
PS: keep it up RENANER-29 and I will be compulsively/protectively clutching my tit every time I go near a fucking pole like: scarred for life. Keep it up Keep it up/
CLASS11
Location: Black Omega, "Viridiun Fortress"
Subject: Knots
This one was good I learned a lot about knots/
CLASS15
Location: Blart-7, "Horsea Studio"
Subject: Painting Session
Live sensory painting with a group of apprentices under Marlowe Hesquire, with audience gallery. Almost total darkness save for model smeared in phosphorescent gel. Apprentices all Fluted Biscopoids working with a nerve-based palette on canvas of liquid memory. Was OK/
Received <Transmission> from RENANER-29 subject: ELABORATE/
FORCED CONFESS.: Not actually taking class, paid Marlowe to let me sit in as model for apprenticeship. Have always been big fan of his (got him into LOVELYSS galleries when he was starting out) and have worked with him often. DETAIL: Fluted Biscopoids completely blind, receive all sensory input from touch. Was seated and surrounded: dark but for gel covering skin. I: only visible point in ocean of darkness surrounded by warm living feeling. Sat and shivered and breathed long and deep and melted into their slippery blind touch and felt really beautiful for the first time in 80+ hours/
FURTHER CONFESS.: Confirming: is unusual for models to pay artists but it happens + it doesn't count as working if I paid for it so suck it/
[made these in clay workshop]
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entry:FOURTH:
>day3
[Mo saw me doing the self-portraits and wanted to do one of us. I like it a lot and could think of a few projects to involve her in but fear another therapeutic tit-shock]
Woke up: follows that I must have slept. Very strange/awful: waking up to empty inbox. No updates or notifications or reason to have woken. No one wanting you/
Not needed/
Motoko ordered me a ketchup for first meal but she had to leave: soon as airlock snap-sealed felt terror like: complete/utter. Squeezed into one of Mo's leotards and floated top-speed to the gym breathing superfast. Logged into machines and did exercises until legs went noodly and took hydro shower which was crowded so that was a relief/
[brkfst]
back in apt. query: how many more hours in this day? Answer: no such thing as <day> only arbitrary name-calling of relative time breakdowns corresponding to nutritional requirements, stamina or photosensitivity of working majority - am victim of physiological consensus. CRUEL but democratic/
Peel off horrible uncomfortable leotard and strap myself into inversion table in front of empty stars. Hang there feeling: wasted, heavy. Do crunches until stomach feels like: hot-steel painful. Do crunches until ankles feel like: shipwrecks. Do crunches & continue until sweat pours down body over face until blind and most importantly until I can no longer think & continue & continue/
BUZZER!! BUZZER!! BUZZER!! Emergency biological imperative looses me from table - body is a blur-streak sweat-splash on the floor feeling: sick. Head heavy as sun - wobbles in wide orbit, crashing into wall, smacking wetly down onto floor. Repeat. Slower now, blood redistributing to appropriate locations. Eventually: grab towel, wrap strategic areas and open airlock/
Jake sent a telegram - hand-delivered by a mailbot on actual paper. Romantic sucker, so gay for the old ways. Haven't spoken/communicated since staying with him at the orbital hospital off Capricus: says he is doing well and coming back to work moonday like we talked about. Must meet before then to brief him on new protocols and also reconnect. Has been almost a solar year since disastrous fling with G and subsequent spiral. Miss him lots/
Spent several minutes feeling: wrecked (in bad way), mentally drafting stage plots for TRANSOM NEWT as well as upcoming Porey Platinum production. Sat in restaurant eating turbo-almonds & drawing vaguely erotic pictures of human males making out (tight skin + strong shoulders & tongues, etc.) for little while but lost interest without definite goal in mind. Maybe send to Jake later? Contrary to <all other psych aspects> my libido has never been a very clear imperative and the logical (usual?) chain of: spark ---> climax has never driven me. Sitting in restaurant: occurred to me I had not had intercourse in maybe three (3) solar months. Felt: nothing in particular/
Returning to apt. now, believe Motoko is back. Will talk with her about feelings and relationships and as many <therapeutic> trivialities as are required of me/
EDIT: <correction> eighteen (18) solar months/
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entry:THIRD:
>day2
[took 1 hour to learn to draw and made this crossprint imitating late Corbie Shudder monographics PS: this is ART BY ATTRITION I hope you are happy]
pleading::
>You want to play, like, chess?
>I hate that game. Play against the computer
>I already did :(
>Well my hands are tied
no hyperbole Mo likes to chain herself to her desk while she's editing of all things we have in common the most obvious is this unstoppable work ethic only I don't require the chains but that's smug I know she doesn't either/
Almost had a panic attack there - Calmer now, found small mission: uploading latest TRANSOM NEWT tracks (acoustic ultrasound-band I manage) to infranet servers in preparation for EP space-launch next week/
next week/
describing:HOME IS::
30sq meter cubicle in one of many high-end living complexes orbiting Kots, the green moon. Includes: two sleeping drawers a love seat a projector-holo-bed a Schwartz&Egger-brand "Meat Tube 2" food dispenser and 1sq meter of <living room> carpet dominated by Motoko's egregious inversion table (bought on a whim - health benefits: at most unknown/at least doubtful). Multi-purpose gymnasium available just off zero-G air duct/hallway includes bathrooms, restaurant, exercise equipment and steam compartment with real hydro showers. Residents and staff only. Kingly quarters I suppose but it is very quiet/
CONT'D: Motoko controls most of the space as I am away for weeks or months at a time with LOVELYSS or other clients/companies/contracts. Have command of holo-bed as she has personal computer set up in the wall for editing/camshows and that is more than enough for my usual purposes/
TRANSOM NEWT not yet replied about revised itinerary. Of course: they are on Yopablo asteroid tour until next week/
next week/
Pointless typing getting very old - sat on holo-bed playing repetitive games against V.I. for 25 minutes and looked at <milkyway> through skylight for 20 seconds and called over to Motoko like: OK, let's do something new/ but she is busy/
Took <l'Ascenseur des Étoiles> down from orbit onto Kots. Kots is: small garden-world with puritan indigenous population and neo-catholiq-progressive-fundamentalist human colonial presence. Upon arrival was greeted with complimentary "proper" clothing which didn't fit - have unusual build that rarely conforms to acceptable religious proportions and anyway it's a free galaxy/
Surprising afternoon - met Andrusian operator of local dig site for offworld archeological corporation following a lead on ANCIENT MOTHWORLD TECH!! Very controversial discovery (only on religious planets can scientific evidence be considered controversial) and so hush-hush but we really hit it off: he had seen me dance before and agreed to show me dig site. Pored over hypoblueprints and discussed optimizing dustbots for excavation with lead engineers, proposed schedule tweaks to maximize R&R breaks+productivity for a mixed-race crew (metabolic racial profiling common managerial mistake), checked AI-arms for buggy patching (the 55 models are notorious for it) andDDDDDDDDfkjfkkj;/
FUC/K/
Admonitory transmission+electroshock received from: RENANER-29 following last entry. Subject: <Vacation is for leisure/recreation ONLY>. No definition included so thanks for that. Reluctantly: abandoning dirt and returning to stars/
Transmitting from: <l'Ascenseur> feeling: frustrated, useless. Nipple still sore from voltage administered by <therapist> through transmitter piercing. Miss headphones & databases & microphone tooth-caps. Do not want to go back to apartment but have no other purpose. Compulsively checking inboxes and social networks. Put my hand on the warm humming plastic wall and felt lonely homesick pang suddenly aware that I was no longer surrounded by living things. Wanted to tear my clothes off and scream for attention, anyone's - still reading, RENANER-29? I CRAVED VIOLENT LIFE AND FOR IT TO LOOK AT ME NAKED/
query::
>What should I do now?
>I don't know, watch a movie or jerk off or something. I'm working.
So I changed back into my only other pair of pants and read about implied metric modulation & beat permutation in pre-Octopoco hyperdub and went over the hyperweasel holo-models from last week (ambient occlusion tweaked for 96.esx) and listened to a classic Mooon Cows album and masturbated and helped Motoko out of her evening corset and tried to sleep but I never was any good at that
/
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entry:SECOND:
>day1
Here on Onklev now, one of those post-apocalyptic wasteland worlds. Usual corrupt outland settlements and roving thugs in tattered, anachronistic armours - very romantic if you're into that kind of thing. Insignificant factions warring over primary resources, etc./
Just wrapped up preliminary mono-filter image capture for documentary on post-holocaust dust hyperweasels - not sure who will buy it, not exactly inflammatory subject material. Worked mostly as key grip during Onklev daylight-hours - contract up in eighty seconds, feeling: nervous. Will be first time FIRST time in entire life being: unemployed/on vacation/useless/
[found old printout datastrip for daily scrawl]
Was brought on for shoot by roommate Motoko Suzi to sort out usual logistical nightmare of coordinating clueless offworld artistic types and local warlord personalities. Motoko is head of holographic model capture, a kind of rising star in her field, and a submissive sex slave in her spare time. Good roommate, for little time I spend at "home". She is one of those perfectly balanced people in that she is a motormouth who always has a ball-gag handy/
REPORT: Mild firefight with local toughs, misunderstanding exacerbated by fact that production's crew is largely human-female (sexual dimorphism still "big deal" on Onklev). Had counted on conflict during production and arranged for timely protection by competing gang: issue was sorted out before first meal of day. May have killed a man? Hard to say, aim has always been approximate/wild and have slacked off military exercises since first master's degree at Fleet Academy HELO years ago. Could have been someone else. Still, though: thinking about that/
Just realized <hyperweasel.doc.> contract is over. Vacation starts in dusty diorama with idiot warriors/
Spent night in tiny repurposed canvas yurt with Motoko waiting for shuttle to be refueled. Asked me to force her to sleep outside - generally don't get involved in her games unless she gets stuck on the ceiling with iron web or dislocates her pelvis on her stupid inversion table, but tonight I stepped on her neck for a while just to be a pal. Haven't been "home" in a long time and felt I owed her one (she likes my feet). Stayed up until today drafting re-imagined, improved roster for annual pulsar tour while she slept like: baby/log/
leaving Onklev in shuttle fucking crazy turbulence update in > soon/
upper atmosphere, driving smooth now. dust.on my boots/boobs, Motoko in passnger.seat points out, laughing at: consonance? Motokos smile is: wide&hot, cracks her bald head like serious hull breach/
conversation::
>Just kick back and enjoy it. Get a partner
>Like a boyfriend?
>Yeah, or whatever. For the week.
>You know anyone?
>I know lots of people
>Any men, Mo?
>Damn, Sassy, I forgot how picky you were/
/
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entry:FIRST:
>day0
Assigned bot RENANER-29 recommends (commands?) daily self-portraiture & consistent blogging for duration of ordeal - something to busy hands and occupy mind. Suspect ulterior, therapeutic motives. RENANER-29 always been suspicious of my workload - doesn't understand given psych profile and race. <who cares> Psych Dept. is mostly antiquated androids and sluggish V.I. personalities, very lazy. Have had to personally sort their files and refresh their rotation on more than one occasion/
Shuttle is being prepped for launch shortly after final shift. In meantime keeping busy::
Fixed live-software error causing all alkaloids on draught in BR Lounge to pour liquid code. Took a moment to rack up all known bugs in order of importance concluding: could have the top eighty fixed or delegated before I had to be on Rawberry stage with Cokalee and his Brangles. Tweaked roster and made note to remind his fluffers to bring extra hovertowels/
Brangles showed up late, fired them from <all> future scheduled appearances. Cokalee was pissed but he knows better/
Had Bill put out a future MYSTERY DJ announcement that seems to get people so excited. Nothing like the promise of <something>?? He'll figure something out/
Last private dance before week off - simple fun tease n squeeze job in Waterbed district, sweet mixed race couple from: Network Bleak? Apple Cluster? Try not to admit to myself that all iridium-based organisms from the Ood system look alike (choke on that, RENANER-29). Female acting like she's never taken off a girl's laser-thong before, very cute, male antennae blushing embarrassed, both laughing, chittering - love seeing love. Will miss that/
EDIT: Reviewing client sheet, both aliens listed as male - though word might be too gender-normative to apply categorically. Current redaction language unsuitable, racist - will revise if more appropriate term learned/
Feeling: apprehensive/
Only 7 days, Bill reassures me (son of a bitch). How long is that in moments? emotions? words art movements? How many <thoughts> fit into 7 days? Maybe my perception of time is too consistent, my hyperactive metabolism unfit for this continuum/
Signed out of all LOVELYSS posts six hours ago, finished preliminary stage manager+scouting work on latest production for Fathom Station Five pornoholographic theatre group and called in Radio-Entropic updates for next fourteen cycles. Nothing to do, soon. Missing holo-keys and command input already. Had to leave all transmitters and radio implants with Bill - feel: hollow, removed. Like: blind/deaf/
heading tofilmset now,.piloting as I type this. strange to be waering pants again(not made of inflatex) and actual bra - feel: lighter, vulnerable/unprofessional??exiting LOVELYSS orbit. Leaving for 168hours EXILED//
transmission::
>-just make sure. Alright Mermo, I guess that's me out
>Don't say it like that :P You'll like it. You deserve a vacation
>What a mean thing to say
>You'll be fine. If you're really homesick you can always find some orbital bar to bounce your tits on
>It's just not the same ;) Thanks Mermo
>See you next Moonday, Sassy. Take it easy
/