posted on 24-Jun-2002 6:16:13 PM by incognito
Hello, and welcome.

There's some things you need to do.

Step 1: If you forgot Spin, or have never read it, go ahead and do that. This is imperative. Spin is here (thanks schurry!):

Step 2: Read the first parts of Core again, so that we're all on the same page here. Core is here

Step 3: Read the following.


On tv one day, there was this story about this guy, I forget his name. This guy got hit by lightening seven times, he was some park ranger or something.

"And no drugs," says my dad.

I know my parents mean well and everything, but it's just that I have condoms coming out of my ears now and it's all a little unnecessary. My mom bought this mega-pack of profilactics and my Dad took it upon himself to plant them everywhere I might look. There's some in my bedside table, some on the floor in my closet. I just reached into my pocket and , well, you get the picture.

"And no sex," says my mom.

Anyway, this guy that got hit by lightening seven times. He's got all these burns all over from the metal he was always wearing. Eventually, he took all the zippers and buttons off his clothing, stopped wearing belts and jewelry. He couldn't even wear his wedding ring. How sad. He lived to be pretty old, but the seventh time killed him.

My dad goes, "No glove, no love, son."

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that this guy got hit by lightening seven times and I can't even get hit once. It doesn't even have to be lightening, I don't care. There's tons of natural disasters that could happen right this moment so we can all forget what my dad just said.

Flash floods.

Spontanious human combustion.

Something like that.

"My parents think we're dating," I say. But I put this lingering sort of emphasis on the word 'dating' so as to imply something along the lines of 'getting it on' or perhaps, 'in love'.

But Liz, she's just not reading me here.

She goes, "That's funny." But you can tell she doesn't find it very funny. I'm expecting her to continue but she starts walking faster to her car like she wants to forget the whole thing happened.


When I get next to her car, I sit there for a second between the power lines looking for some sign of bad weather.

Her car is grey. I was hoping it would be some stupid obnoxious color.

Bright red.

Lime green.

Something like that.

I was hoping there would be something hanging from her rear view mirror, stupid dice or something. Pictures of her stupid friends on the sun visor. Stupid stickers of stupid bands on the back window.


She wears her muted clothes, she drives her muted car.

I guess I was trying to learn something about her, but I guess there's nothing to learn.

Alls I know is that she has this slight mental disorder.

The lies she tells are stupid.

It doesn't make her any more interesting.

This is the kind of girl my family sees me with?

Now she's just sitting there driving. Her silence bugs the crap out of me.

Not only am I going to some shit party, but I'm going with the amazing invisible girl who's looking like she'd rather drive off a bridge.

I'm pretty much hating everything right now.

"Where is the party?" I ask. I can't stand being in this car much longer.

She's just looking out the window, and she goes, "Mars."

I feel my face getting red. "Mars huh."

"Ever been there?"

"No, but I bet you have."

She gives me this wierd kind of look, "Once or twice."

"With your spaceship I bet, and you met all sorts of nice martians."

She's just looking at the road and her eyes get all wide, she starts going through all these emotions and I'm not sure whats going on. She laughs, then she gets really quiet and thoughtful, then it's like she's about to cry.

About two minutes later, just for effect, she goes, "Umm...I meant the street."


She points. I look. The streetsign reads Mars Street.

And I don't really know if I've ever been any more sick of myself.

"Oh god," I close my eyes, " I'm sorry."

She shrugs, "Don't worry about it, it happens all the time, forget about it." She parks and gets out of the car, presumably trying to forget about it.

"I'm an asshole." I don't think I've ever said that before, but it's amazingly appropriate, even if she's not listening.

When we get into the party, we learn that Tess is looking for us.

And I'm glad.

I can't even look at Liz.

What I've shown her tonight is that I'm in a bad mood and I make fun of her problems. Why am I surpized that she's not jumping to be my special friend?

You know, like how Isabel has Maria, like how Michael has Alex.

Pink fuzzy guy wants to cry.

Why am I like this.

When we find Tess, she's smiling up and me and holding my arm.

And it's nice, ok?

It's like she's the only one in the world who still doesn't know I'm an asshole.

Liz shoves a beer in my hand and Tess is like, stroking my arm. Then Courtney comes up and pulls Tess somewhere and I just walk around, looking for a way outside.

The music is deafening and everyone is shouting at each other. It's like, turn the music down and you won't have to shout, dumbasses.

I see my escape in a sliding glass door.

I make my way out, between people that are shouting at each other, and everyone smells like beer.

Pink fuzzy guy, he either wants to cry or throw up.

Outside, Liz is being unassuming in the shadows. Michael is asking me if I'm drinking, and Tess wants me to play spin the bottle.

The thing about Tess, that I know deep down, Is that she doesn't really want a relationship with me. I'm pretty sure that she just wants me to help her kill her dad.

She doesn't really want to get to know me, and it's comforting, because I'm not so great.

So I tilt my head back, and take a sip of beer. I'm hoping that it's poisoned or something.

I ignore Liz hiding there in the shadows and Michael looking at me in disbelief. I think that what Liz needs right now is to be as far away from me as possible.

I go and sit on the floor and the music is starting to sound muffeled, and the people's shouting is starting to be not so annoying, and it kind of looks like there is two of everyone.

Boom, and I'm drunk.

No wonder people drink at parties.

It's a lot more bearable, that's for sure.

People are kissing everywhere, it's funny.

Someone shoves the empty bottle in my hand so I spin it. It spins for a really long time, time slows down.

I feel like a nap.

I'm supposed to kiss Tess now so I do. She feels really strange, like she's not really here. I kiss her a lot because it kind of freaks me out, It feels like she's covered in saran wrap or something.

When we're done, everyone is cheering us on.

I'm thinking: ok, thanks.

Tess is really close to me and she's all looking up like I'm supposed to look her in the eye or something, she's all right in my face so I can't help it. Then she whispers really quiet so that no one else can hear, she goes, "I know how your always watching me and stuff, and it's really freaky ok?"

I go, "Yea, I get that."

Then she goes, "Whatever you think you know about me, it's probably wrong."

I go, "Yea, probably."

She goes, "I think we should just start over." Then she pats my head and leaves.

I'm thinking, start what over? Oh well.

Then I go out front and lay in the middle of the street, and I'm pretty sure I know the meaning of life, but it's really hard to put into words.

Isabel and Michael come out and Isabel lays on the street too, and she goes, "Everything like...makes sense right now."

Michael goes, "Oh my god."

I hear someone giggle so I look to the side and Alex and Maria are in a little huddle laughing at us. Maria goes, "I want whatever they're drinking."

Michael goes, "I can't believe you guys." Then he goes and kicks something. I guess he's sober.

Isabel just keeps talking, "...I mean like...screw this...we are so stupid...we just make things so hard for ourselves and it's so stupid. Max? You know what I mean."

"Sure, does anyone know where Liz is?"

"Ok so this party sucks, so what. You know? It's's all's as fun was we make it."

Alex goes, "That's the spirit."

Maria goes, "Liz is in the back room, I think."

I consider just shutting up but it doesn't work. "Why is she back there? Am I supposed to go back there or something? Does she need attention or something?"

I'm the one that's supposed to pull the dissapearing act, I'm the one in agony that doesn't want to be here.

Maria comes and sits down next to me, "No, she's back there because she doesn't want attention. She likes to be alone sometimes, it doesn't mean anything."

I say, "Well it's annoying."

Then Maria gets kind of defensive, "Why do you care? No offense but it's not like it's your problem."

But the thing is that it is my problem. I don't think she's back there being alone. I think she's back there because I'm out here.

Isabel goes, "Max? Aren't you having fun because I am ok?


"I'm serious, ok? We have to stop doing this to ourselves."



"I would like some alone time."

Isabel looks kind of hurt and she gets up and real quietly she says, "But this is fun, right?"

I go, "It's fucking magical."

Then Isabel goes running away so Maria and Alex follow.

Michael stands over me and he goes, "I know she wasn't making a whole lot of sense, but you don't have to pull her down with you."

"I was just minding my own business. I'm not trying to pull her down, she's trying to pull me up. I think what it all comes down to is that I don't have a special friend yet. Now go away."

Michael gives me this look before he leaves like he wants to kick me. Then everyone is gone. I don't really care because there is just no one to relate to anymore.

I'm just sitting here not relating to anything.

Tess comes up and stands over me, so I go, "Hey Tess, let's relate."

She goes, "Sure, but can we do it at your house? Blacktop makes me all scratchy. I'll drive, go tell Liz your leaving."

When I stand up the whole world is spinning around, and I'm at the middle. I call to Liz and follow her voice to the back room. I don't know what she's doing back here but it looks really boring.

"I have to tell you something," I say. And it's not really looking like she's hating me at the moment.

I look down at my hand and there are five of them! I wave all my hands in front of my face. There are a lot and it's really cool looking. All my hands go to touch Liz's head because her head looks so small swimming in all these hands. Her face feels really hot, I hope she doesn't have a fever.

She starts saying something about a bubble but I don't see any bubbles anywhere.

She looks kind of sad and it makes me sad, because I would be sad too If I was kind of insane and there was nothing I could do about it but sit around by myself all the time.

So I tell her than I'm an alien. I don't think I was supposed to tell her that but she's looking really sad and sometimes people need to know that they're not alone in their big deep dark secrets.

I'm really trying to fulfill her needs here but I think maybe she just needs to not be around me. Me who pulls everyone down and makes fun of her.

Then I go back home with Tess and we make out some more, even though we're both not really into it.


[ edited 3 time(s), last at 3-Jul-2002 5:25:01 PM ]
posted on 26-Jun-2002 6:58:38 PM by incognito

This is what they call panic. But I'm trying to take inventory of the situation.

What I remember, what I don't.

Who's walking around in my room, who was I just making out with. Who did I hurt tonight, what was I drinking.

Did Liz get home ok?

Does Isabel hate me?

I was making out with Tess. Go team go.

She's walking around my room, fondling everything she comes across. She touches all the surfaces of my desk, she puts her fingers all over my books. She's still having some conversation that I must have been participating in.

She says, "Suicide is generally a social thing."

My head is pounding and I feel terrible. I remember drinking, laying in the street, Isabel running away, Liz looking sad.

I'm hoping everyone will forgive me since I don't remember what I did. I wasn't so accountable for my actions. I'm trying to think of what happens in the movies when people get drunk and do something bad that they don't remember, do they get forgiven?

But no, drunk is no excuse. They're your actions, wether your accountable for them or not.

"Suicide," Tess continues, "Is generally about revenge. It's about getting people to think about how they treated you. It's about everyone apologizing. It's social but it's self-centered. That's how I see it, but I get your point. Do you have sex in your closet a lot or something?"

My head shoots in a Tess-ward direction. She's kneeling down, halfway inside my closet, throwing condoms over her shoulder.

I take inventory, quickly.

How I feel about Tess is comfortable.

We're talking about sex and suicide, not things I generally talk about with others.

The whole making out thing, I get the feeling we just did that to get it out of the way. Got close really quick so we could stop and talk about the finer things in life, like death.

The whole making out thing, it just seems like an excuse to get in the same room and talk.

I also get the feeling that Tess is the only one I have left to talk to. I get this feeling that when she leaves, I'm all alone. Even with Isabel in the next room over, even with my parents down the hall.

"It's just someone playing a joke on me," I say, trying to explain away the condoms. "And I don't exactly remember what my point was."

"Neither do I," she replies, "But it made sense at the time. Do you have any paper?"

I get Tess some paper and she starts cutting off big chunks with some scissors she found in my desk drawer. I take more inventory.

My head hurts in a physical sort of way. The rest of me hurts, differently. Like when your insides feel like they're all squeezed together but you know there's no big scary medical cause. Like you know it's just hormones or whatever making you feel bad because you know your such an asshole and you can't remember why.

Tess points at the clock, "Wow, we've been talking for like, hours."

I ask Tess if Liz got home ok.

"Personally," Tess says, "I don't see why you don't just tell her, but whatever, who am I."

"Tell who what?"

"Tell Liz."

"Tell Liz what?"

"That you like her, or whatever you called it."

"What did I call it."

"I forget what you called it."

All of this is sounding vaugly familiar. In a deja vu kind of way. Like we've been talking about this all night.

I'm panicking, and my insides hurt. But I'm just trying to take inventory here.

Damage control.

"I like Liz."


"No I mean...I'm sorry, what?"

"Look," Tess says as she sits down on the bed next to me, "I made you an origami crane."

"I like Liz." I say this again, just to test it out, see how it feels. I kind of forget everything else and get lost in this strange combination of words. I try to free associate, it's something you do in therapy when you have some point to get to but you don't really know what it is or how to get there. "I like Liz, but..."

Tess says, "But you have misgivings. You have problems, so does she. You don't know her very well so you don't think it's right to like her. So you call it something else, I forget what you call it, intrigue, or interest. But it doesn't matter, this is how relationships start, someone catches your eye so you get to know them. It's normal to have misgivings."

Tess says, "No one believes in love at first sight anymore, it's too dangerous."

Tess says, "Personally, I think it's perfect, your both really weird."

Tess says, "Also, you think she's hot."

I go, "Liz is hot." Just to see how it sounds. It sounds kind of crude. My hands are shaking so I hold on to Tess's oragami crane a little harder. My head hurts and thinking makes it worse so I feel like talking to Tess some more. The words coming out of her mouth are fascinating. She's like my conscience, only new and improved, more knowledgable, way smarter than I am. I go, "Liz is really pretty, she is, but..."

Tess says, "But not in that busty blonde model kind of way. It's more unconventional, more natural, girlish. She's a natural blusher, instant pretty. She dresses down. Some guys are attracted to this, guys like you."

I go, "Weirdos like me."


"But still..."

Tess says, "But you think she hates you. She probably doesn't. I thought she hated me too, but she doesn't. Try being nice to her. People are rarely how they seem. Like me and Kyle, people think they know all this stuff about us, but they don't. Like Courtney, mega-bitch right? Not if you get her alone, not if you really need her to be there for you. You have to dig deep with people, maybe a little deeper in Liz's case."

"But Tess," I say quietly, hoping not to upset her, "Your not with Kyle right now, and my track record with Liz, well, it just seems more complicated than that."

Mentioning Kyle was maybe too much of a low blow because you can see Tess's posture get a little worse, her face sinks, her shoulders slouch. "Your right," she says, "Maybe the skeletons in our closet are a little too big. Maybe we're doomed. That's why me and you need to stick together."

When Tess leaves, she hugs me goodbye, it's a sisterly kind of way. She thanks me for letting her blab so much, she says she loves to blab. I say listening isn't so bad.

She says to call her tomorrow at Liz's house.

I'm sad to see her go, because I have to go back to being alone.

I keep myself busy on the way to Isabel's room, I count the number of stairs. I count the pictures on the wall. There is about twelve stairs, there are over thirty pictures. It takes eight steps to get to Isabel's room.

I stick my head in her room and quietly whisper. She turns over and I whisper again.

Her eyes pop open like she hasn't been sleeping at all, she says, "Go away."

"I don't remember what I did Is."

"Neither do I, but I know you did it."

"I'm sorry."

"Too bad, it's done."

"I'm really sorry though."

She turns back over and closes her eyes.

I walk back to my room and lay down.

I think maybe what Tess would say about this thing with Isabel is to stop apologizing and start treating her better, to stop saying and start doing. Tess would probably say that it doesn't seem like I know my sister that much anymore, and that maybe I need to get to know her a little better.

I try not to think about Liz because it makes me feel guilty. But it doesn't work, I think about her anyway. I think about how all these little things about her that bug me, like how she doesn't decorate her car, these things bug me because I like them.

Things that I like always seem to bug me.

But I'm getting sick of being annoyed all the time, and right now, more than anything, I would really like to be surrounded by things that I like.

I think that if Liz were here right now, It wouldn't bug me one bit.

I say, "I like Liz." Then I say, "Tess is my friend."

These things sound really strange, I'm still a little wary, but it's fun to sit here in the dark and say this cool sounding stuff.

I smile and I go, "Liz is hot."

I say, "Sorry Liz."

I say, "Goodnight Liz."

That's when I'm pretty sure I fall asleep.

Oh yea, then I have this dream.


Hiya guys. geez these parts are really hard to write, there's this whole transition thing going on, plus I'm a little out of my element, getting used to things again. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is turning out how I wanted it so I hope your liking it.

Blanca! Phae! taz! Everyone! I feel like the band got back together or something. Like the old crew is back. I missed you guys.

evelynn: I real all my feedback in excrutiating detail! Don't discontinue your story! I'm here to inspire, not to patent ideas.

Young grasshoper: Dr. A is pure imagination. If he were real he would be jobless, probably, and with pending malpractice suits. Thank you for your nice feedback, it made me feel extra special.

And thanks for the gratz everyone.

I can only write, at most, twice a week. More realistically, it will only be once a week, probably on Wednesdays. Thought you might want to know.

Short part, I only had a couple hours to get this out.


posted on 3-Jul-2002 5:24:04 PM by incognito


Apparently me and Liz and Isabel and Michael, we got this crackbrained idea to drive to the California poppy fields and bury some alien artifacts.

Either that, or I'm having something akin to a really bad acid trip.

Isabel and Michael, they just dig. And dig. With shovels. Like zombies. They're ruining the freakin flowers. I'm telling them, "This is a really good idea guys, no really like, the best you've ever had."

They dig some more and I'm telling them, "Yeah lets find the biggest tourist attraction in this piddly little town and bury all our incriminating evidence there so some little kid can come dig it up. No, I'm serious guys, it's fuckin brilliant."

Not only is this a really bad idea, but it just seems wrong. This place is untouched, and innocent. And they're fucking it up.

"Let's just hope Ranger Bob doesn't come buy and you know, arrest us for screwing with protected land."

This is my place. Pink fuzzy guy thrives on this place, this is his special thing. This is where he's always dicking around, standing on the edge of who-knows-what.

It's his only good memory, and it's like they're planting a virus in it.

I'm telling Isabel and Michael, "And in broad daylight. You guys should win some sort of smart people award..."

"Hey, put a sock in it."

I spin around and Liz is sitting there in the poppies. Only her face is all fuzzed and blurred out. She's munching on this carrot and everytime it gets near her face it turns into a blurry oarnge blob, then she pulls it away and it's a normal carrot with a bite taken out of it.

She's going: chomp chomp chomp

"What are you doing here?" I ask her.

"You invited me, you prick."

"What happened to your face?"

She shrugs and goes: chomp chomp chomp. "This whole asshole thing," she says, "nice try but it's getting old."

"But I am an asshole."

"No, your not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, your not."

"I can't help it, it's my natural state of being."

"You wish."

"Why would I wish to be an asshole?"

"Because it's easy, and your a lazy ass."

I frown and I go, "Well your not being very nice either."

"Well yea, because your acting stupid."

"Whatever Liz."

"Watever Max."

We just sit there staring at each other. Only, I'm only assuming she's staring at me because I can't really see her eyes. They're just two dark globules on the upper half of her face-blob.


She says, "I guess I'm gonna go."

I panic for a second because I remember telling myself how much it sucks when I make Liz sad. "No, wait," I say, "I'll be nice."

"I doubt it."

"I will, I wanted to tell you something."


"I'm really sorry."

She looks at me, I think, and she goes, "You know, there's some people that can apologize all they want and it doesn't mean crap, and they're just an assholes to you the next day. It's just words. Blah blah blah."

I try to think of something nice to do for her and I go, "Well, I can make you a sandwich."

And I know this sounds really stupid, but I'm pretty sure I'm on some kind of hallucinogen and it's the only thing I can think of. It's just that in my family, making each other sandwhiches is something we do to be nice to each other. That and cleaning each other's room.

I wonder if Liz needs her room cleaned.

"Yea," she says, "You can make me a poppy and dirt sandwich, because that sounds really good."

I look around at the poppy field and I go, "Oh."

We both start laughing.

I say, "I wish your face would come back."


"I'm serious."

"Okay," She gets all aloof. I don't mean to embarrass her but I think she needs to hear this.

"Because your's not like....bad to look at."

"Shut up," she says, and her face blob turns a little bit redder.

Me and Liz go for a walk and I tell her the story about when we came to California when we were kids, and I tell her about how me and Michael used to go riding bikes around his trailor park, and about how me and Isabel always used to go to the thrift store when we first learned how to drive.

It starts to get dark outside and the sky is all oarnge and purple. Liz turns to me and goes, "She's not an idiot you know."


"Tess," she continues, "She's out of it but she's not an idiot. She can figure shit out."

I'm trying to figure out what the hell Liz is talking about when everything starts going all screwy. The sky is sliding all over the place and the ground is starting to fade away.

And then I'm looking at what I'm guessing is my ceiling.

I'm really put off at first because I was doing really good with Liz and of course it had to be a dream. It was way too easy.


And I pretty much have two really crazy things on my mind right now:

1) I need to get Liz over here like, asap, and get to know her already. I also need to memorize her face so that she can have one next time she makes an appearance in one of my stupid dreams. I just need to get her over here and pay her some attention.

2) I also have this overwhealming feeling that Tess knows I'm an alien.



Ok, sorry that was uber short. I think I'll have more time to write like, at the end of next week. something like that.