Ok: so maybe they weren’t in completely different places in the continuum and or the hyperspace. They were connected through me, of course, but i think what i’m trying to say is that my AOC will always be there, in the future, no matter what, whereas, for all I know, Alex might turn out to be something different than my wife. When I tried to call up AOC, however, someone said: “I can’t tell the difference.” So I explained that AOC had telepathic skills ahead of her, and therefore, obviously, my time whereas Alex reported what I missed out on—keeping me up to date but not necessarily regulating her breathing twenty-four seven.
She didn’t have to do that—but I did. If I didn’t have to do it to be safe, sound, and myself, then i probably wouldn’t do it either—especially because it seems like a lot of work. But, in my defense, you don’t notice it so much once you’ve been at it for a while—it’s there, on the backburner of your consciousness, but you develop the skills to do other things while keeping a close watch on how you’re reacting to certain stimuli, and what all that might mean.
Basically I had a natural, in built, phone in my brain, and i needed to remain in a state that would make it possible for me to answer the phone—if, for example, AOC called.
But there were other people that tried to reach me, too, people I didn’t know. Some of them were probably from the future, and some of them were probably from the past, so there was no reason, then, that some of them couldn’t be from the present even if, for example, they couldn’t surf the web while they were waiting around.
don’t crack a Dr. Pepper, Alex said; i’m not into that. I don’t know what she meant by that—i’d certainly seen photos of her drinking coffee, but maybe i didn’t know my own strength, or i wasn’t as good a person as i thought i was, and, when i got a little buzz off downing a bunch of fizz somehow i was passing on information that, for her, was a drag. well, i would crack a Dr. Pepper in a moment or probably at least in the next few hours (before it gets too late in the day) but, for now, i still had a little buzz from gulping down a can of carbonated water.
Then—you can drink a Dr. Pepper if you want. I didn’t know what she meant by that, either. I guess she was kidding, but I wasn’t sure which statement she was kidding about. Did Dr. Pepper stand for something in my secret code-book—and she’d deciphered it? I wasn’t exactly sure what Dr. Pepper stood for so i was a little leery of someone that knew more about me than I knew about myself. that’s how i feel so i figured she was asking for space? Or maybe just a slightly different approach? She confirmed, in fact, that that was the case. So what could I say—or, perhaps more to the point, what should I be listening for?
Then AOC chimed in: “You don’t have to listen to me.” In the long run it was probably better for me to talk to AOC more than i talked to Alex because AOC was the one who passed down the things that inspired me. Talking to AOC wasn’t necessarily as exciting, either, probably because she’d walk the earth long after I was gone—there was no chance of us running into each other.
“That’s all, folks.” how are we going to do this? i had to reply, however, that we weren’t going to do anything in person—when she found out i couldn’t work and, therefore, was totally dependent on my loved ones and their sympathy, she probably wouldn’t give me a chance. I wasn’t ready for that to happen.
Why are you holding back? So, i think what was happening is that Alex was asking herself why she was holding back—or maybe she was thinking it after trying to get her boyfriend to speak to her—i can’t say. But I don’t think she was fully conscious that I lived, in part, in her consciousness—doing what I could to increase her chances of getting elected and getting us free healthcare like so many other civilized countries. that’s not what’s happening. ok: what is happening? “You’re too old for me,” (AOC). I don’t think AOC realized all of her abilities when she said that. I think she sensed that she was fated from birth to do something, but, at the time this question was framed, i don’t think she knew what she was supposed to be doing.
Some say that when you write you should write like your parents are dead. I thought it was better to own it, however, which is one reason, years ago, that I changed my tack. If you can’t own something, then you probably shouldn’t be doing it—not just because it could get you into trouble with other people—but also because it would get you into trouble with yourself. Why give someone that kind of power. To hover, over you, knowing more about you than you know about yourself ?
“I can’t be that,” AOC said, and, i must admit, i assumed that she was talking about something that had something to do with me. She couldn’t be what? My closest confidante, colleague, and friend? “You have to look after me.” So that was what was worrying her—she didn’t think she could protect herself from the outside world—as she was growing into the full-blown person that she was meant to be. Perhaps AOC was telling me that I can’t be what Alex needs and wants. Perhaps AOC was saying that she couldn’t take on the appearance and voice of someone else—that things between me and Alex had to work out: and she brought up an interesting point. Once I accepted that I couldn’t have Alex, wouldn’t i find someone else to inspire me, and wouldn’t that person be the real AOC?