A Peek Outside

I've begun to wonder if the things I saw in Scritch City were real. Much of it feels like my own imagination turning into reality. I did write a book about it. (I'll promote it at the end of this blog, if anyone is out there to read it.)

Characters such as Quentin, Aloe, and Daxter don't seem to have anything to do with me. Perhaps I was manipulated by them. And if they were creations of mine... did I manipulate myself? I'm having a hard time understanding all of this. Was it real? And if it was... does any of it really matter?

My personal belief is that there is such a thing as a multiverse. There are many worlds all with their own rules. Sometimes people can exist in two or many of these worlds. I wish I understood it better. I think that I instinctively know how it works, but it is harder to put it into words.

The place where I am now feels like somewhere in between. I began in Chapter 1 (the primordial ooze). I somehow moved to Chapter 2 (Railroad Towers). Something ate me and sent me to Chapter 3 (Scritch City). And here I am now in Chapter 3.5. I'm not really anywhere. But then... maybe this place acts as some sort of gateway to other chapters.

I looked out of my doorway again. For the first time I noticed there was no ceiling out there. The sky is just a mass of glowing purple clouds. The hallway itself is... smokey. Like the walls are made of black smoke. I mean sometimes it is. Depends on how you look at it. Imagine something that looks differently based on how you look at it. Either way, I noticed other doors out there.

The more I work on this new book, the more I realize just how much of a hedonist I am. I don't like doing things by halves. I like to indulge in my fancies as much as possible. This need is making me yearn to explore outside this room. I need to open up some of those doors.

My ideas for the club has become far more stable. I see people there. I kind of see their faces. This is nothing like the Railroad Club or the Tailhole Club. This is something different. I wish I could go there. Bur first I need to work on this story some more.

If you haven't read b.t. yet, you can find a copy on Amazon.com. Here is some information:

11.99 - Paperback Edition
5.99 - Kindle Edition


Click here to see the Amazon.com listing of all of his books.

Maybe I should go for a walk after this next chapter.

Writing in a Strange Place

I haven't stopped writing. In fact, I don't think I could if I wanted to. I feel compelled to continue writing about the things I see. Most of these things I believe have some sort of basis on reality. I, Buddy Tippet, seem to exist in some sort of multiverse. I am forever trapped here. At the very least, I seem to be out of trouble.

Here's a funny thing: I snagged my laptop cord when I got up to stretch. The laptop flew off of my desk and landed on the floor in front of me where I accidentally stepped on it. The screen cracked real bad and didn't seem to work anymore. But like being in a dream, I saw the crack retract into nothing. The screen started working again. What's more, it doesn't need to be plugged in anymore. It just sort of works.

I have an internet connection. I've still been able to contact some of my close acquaintances such as CB634, Mad Rabbit, and Shawn O'Toole. Book-writing is still an ongoing project even if there is no one here to talk to. Miss Silky is gone. I left her behind. I miss her. I really enjoyed talking with her. At this point, I'd probably be able to shoot the breeze with a hobo and come out of it with something. It's boring here.

The room doesn't look all that different than the back room of the Railroad Club. There are some differences. More gray. Definitely more gray. Sort of a... boxy design on the wall. Hard to describe. Like there are these long rectangles that are gray. There are bits of white around two of the sides of each rectangle. I count maybe eight of them. Sort of just... spread out along each wall. I dunno. Just caught my eye is all.

I looked outside the door where the hallway is. Yep, it's still there. I want to explore it more, but I've just been so busy. I got things I need to get off my mind. There's this thing about a club. There's a pool or something. It's so hard to focus on.

Anyways, I really need to get back to plugging my books. It's been a while. Pack Rats of The Inside was my very first book. It sold pretty well. A couple people left some comments up on Amazon. I assume I got paid at some point. Not sure what to do with the money while I'm stuck in this place. I wonder if I should eat it???

If you wanna check out Pack Rats of The Inside, here is some information:

$9.99 - Paperback Edition
$5.99 - Kindle Edition

Click here to see the Amazon.com listing of all of my books.

Does anyone out there want to chat with me? I'm really lonely. Drop me an email at BuddyTippet@gmail.com, or just reply to this blog. Please?

Out of an Old World

Was it just a dream? Had I really been there? Where it is true I, Buddy Tippet, found Scritch City in a dream, I did feel as if I had woken up on its streets. Miss Silky guided me there, did she not? Perhaps. Either way, I am awake now... although there is nothing here.

I don't believe Scrich City is gone. It's still out there. Everyone is still alive and making decisions. But they are doing it despite me. But where am I now? Where is this? Is this home?

All I know is this: I have my laptop with me. I have my books. I still live with the broken memories that I may or may not be myself. But I believe I have to move on. Scritch City can manage itself. I need to explore and see what is out there.

It is, perhaps, a good time to fall back to basics. I am a man who greatly adores the very concept and foundation of hedonism. I believe that the selfish should be allowed to provide for themselves. I know this is who and what I am. And as time slowly drifts by in whatever plane I find myself in, I shall keep writing. I shall keep exploring. And as I do these things... I shall report them.

Please stand by.