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“Well… yeah… I don´t have money to pay someone to babysit you and we don´t have the resources to handle you.” (6/15/2018)

The dog in the corner in the kitchen tilts his head.

“Yeah”, I say as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “I don´t know.”

HR walks into the kitchen.

“I got a new t-shirt!”

I pause; wasn´t this a school day?

“Cool!”, I say as I lean back, “hey! How did your beach trip go with your girl wolfpack?”

She smiles.

“It was awesome! I got a prize for riding the mechanical bull for 18.29 nanoseconds. GIRL HERO, yo!”

“Um…”, I say as I sip the soda from the glass, “ok?”

“So HR”, my wife says as she reaches over for the bag of digitalpapitas, “why aren´t you going to school?”

HR pauses; how´s she know?

“The kids in the class are mean to me.”

“That´s not an excuse”, my wife says as she reaches into the bag, “you need to learn how to get along with people or get by somehow.”

“Yeah”, she says as she pulls a chair out from the table, “I know what you mean.”

My wife puts a handful of digitalpapitas into her mouth.

“It´s the real world”, she says as she chews, “that´s how shit goes.”

HR pauses; I don´t know.

My wife continues talking as she swallows the papitas, “there´s things more important.  If you don´t go to school, you can´t graduate.  If you don´t graduate, you can´t get a good job.  If you don´t get a good job, you don´t have money. If you don´t have money, you can´t buy me cool shit.  If you don´t buy me cool shit, you will be a loser. If you are a loser, no guy will like you. If no guy likes you, you will die alone.”

My wife pauses as she reaches for another handful.

“Like”, she says as she puts another handful into her mouth, “like we don´t really care…. I´m just saying that it´s going to suck. Like… you know… do whatever the fuck you want. But,”

She pauses; starts chewing the digitalpapitas; takes a sip of soda.

“Well”, she says as she continues, “… so like it´s going to suck.”

“But”, HR replies as she leans back in the chair.

She turns her head to look out the window; back to my wife; to me; to the dog in the corner; she pauses.

“Yeah.”

My wife grabs another handful of digitalpapitas.

“HR”, she says, “find a way. Find a way to get through it.”

“Hey”, I say as I reach over for the bag, “I have a story.”

HR pauses; looks at me.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Ok then”, I say as I lean back in the chair.

I continue talking as HR turns her head to me and my wife chews the food… my wife loves that shit.

“So HR”, I say as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “if I took you to a deserted field in a dangerous part of town at 3am. Would you be afraid?”

“Like”, HR says as she leans forward and reaches for the bag of digitalpapitas, “whatever. Your stories are lame… but ok… yeah.  I would be scared.”

“Why”, I ask as I lean back, “it´s a deserted field. The only person there is you.”

She pauses; maybe this idiot is on to something?

“Ok?”, she says as she puts a handful into her mouth.

“Yeah”, I reply as I reach for the digitalvegetables, “because you are not scared of others–you are scared of you. It goes back to the idea of intentions versus motives. You may have the best intentions in the world–but what are your motives? It may be a great idea to let that person cut in front of you when you are driving the spacejet–but are you doing it because you care or because you expect something in return? It could be something innocuous as a wave of gratitude or benign as a simple flick of the hand in acknowledgement. Is that your reasoning–or is it because it´s the right thing to do? The right thing to do is very challenging–that is life. Is it better to go the speed limit and arrive late to your child´s birth or to speed a little and get there on time–what to you is the right thing to do? Is shoplifting a little to help someone, acceptable? These questions you have to answer yourself–this is where your moral code of YOU and your ETHICS and your personal opinion come in. Ultimately, our system is developed around an idea that everyone has a different set of governing values–we have uniform standards for behavior, but the individual decides the action. It´s called mea culpa to say–I´m the one responsible. It may not get you friends and people may not like you at school, but you OWN your life–the consequences of your behaviors are you. But, like your mom said about going to college to get a good job to buy cool shit–that´s not a bad thing. Maybe the consequences of your actions help you–maybe this is where happiness is?”

“Yeah”, HR says as she chews the digitalpapitas, “that was actually kinda interesting.”

I pause; I wish I wrote that shit down.

“So like anyways”, she says as she slides the bag of digitalpapitas towards my wife, “you want to see the cool t-shirt I got for winning the mechanical bull riding contest?”

I pause; I look out the window; I look back to her.

“Yeah”, I say as I set my taza down and put the spoon into the digitalvegetables, “of course!”

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“Yeah… I don´t know. I just write a blog and books about explotation and harassment”, the writer says. (6/14/2018)

“Yeah”, I reply as I take a sip of coffee, “that´s cool. So why did you want to meet me?”

He pauses; this is my chance.

“I want you to start a rumor about me on Dorinto.”

I pause; excuse me?

“Excuse me?”

He leans back in his chair; taking a sip of coffee, he sighs.

“I need publicity”, he says as he leans forward and sets his taza down, “I need grassroots advocacy and I think that the best way is to get people talking about me behind my back.”

I look away; there´s 14 surfers today.

“So anyways”, I reply as I pick up my taza, “what do you want me to say?”

“Ok”, he replies as he pulls a small piece of paper out of his pocket.

He starts reading the note.

“THAT dude has a crush on HER.”

I pause; that sounds easy.

“That sounds easy”, I reply as I lean back in my chair.

I look back out the window; now there´s 15 surfers.

“So”, I continue as I pick up my taza, “what do I get out of it?”

He pauses; let´s see if he takes up my offer.

“I´ll buy 7 digitalbooks from you”, he replies.

I pause; I sigh.

“Yeah”, I reply as I lean forward and pick up my biscotti off the tray, “that seems nice, but, the thing is–I don´t accept money from you.”

I pause, again.

“I´m going to

“Are you sure?”, he cuts in.

“I´m going to spread the rumor ´cause I think it´s the right thing to do. You don´t owe me–we´re fine.

He pauses; he doesn´t want anything?

“Ok.”


“So are you going to do it?”, my wife asks as she pulls the digitalcalabaza out of the microwave.

“You know”, I reply as I hit recline on my chair in the kitchen, “yes.”

“But”, she replies as she sets the platter on the table, “I didn´t think you liked him?”

“Exactly”, I reply as I reach over for a spoon, “that´s why I´m doing it.”

“I don´t understand.”

“You remember back on Earth what people would say about loaning someone $20?”

“Um…”, she says as she reaches for the digitaltea, “don´t spend it all in one place?”

“No”, I reply as I take a bite of the digitalturkey, “if a friend comes to you and needs money, and you loan them money, and they don´t pay you back, or you don´t see them again–it was money well spent. Like… if you loan a friend $20 and you don´t hear from them again, it was money well spent.”

“Yeah”, she replies as she takes a sip of digitaltea, “I don´t really know what the fuck you are talking about.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I take a sip of coffee, “you know.. I don´t really know what the fuck I´m talking about most of the time either. It, this mouth, just starts saying things–and I just kinda go with it?”

“I think you´re strange”, she replies as she takes another sip of digitaltea.

I chuckle.

“You married me”, I laugh as I put my spoon into the digitalcalabaza.

I laugh again.

“You married a strange guy, loser”, I chuckle again.

“Well”, she replies as she turns her head to me, “that can be changed.”

I pause; I think I´m supposed to shut up.

“Love you”, I reply as I take a sip of coffee and turn my head to look out the window.

“Yeah”, she replies as she takes another sip of digitaltea, “I know.”

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“Thanks for the blue hoodie, HR, but I can´t wear it in public”, I tell her, “do you get it?” (6/12/2018)

“Why not?”, she asks as she looks down at the floor in the kitchen.

“Well”, I say as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “people think that people who wear blue hoodies are important.”

She pauses; turns her head to me.

“And?”

I pause.

“Well”, I say as I lean back in my chair and take a sip of coffee, “when people think that you are important, they also think that you have money. When people think that you have money, people think how they don´t. They want to change that.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah”, I say as I lean forward and pick up the bag of digitalpapitas, “we don´t do that around here.”

She pauses.

“So you´re not going to wear it?”

I pause; she really thought this out and considered my feelings.

“I´m going to try.”


“How´d it go at the park today?”, my wife asks me as she takes the digitalzanahorias from the microwave.

“Yeah”, I reply as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “it was nice.”

She pauses.

“Hey”, she says as she slides the small digitalcardboard box to me on the table, “this came in the mail for you last night.”

I pause; was this another VCR tape?

I reach over and pick up the box.

“Oh!”, I say as I set it down, “this isn´t mine. It´s MPNITY.2´s mail.”

I pause; probably more gardening supplies. 

“That guy loves to garden.”

“Yeah”, my wife says as she pulls out a chair, “ok.”

“So I was thinking

“Yeah”, she says as she grabs a scoop of hot vegetables, “that never goes well.”

I pause.

“Oh, sorry”, she says as she reaches over for the digitaltea, “go on.”

“I was thinking”, I say as I reach over for the scooper and get some digitalzanahorias, “that we haven´t taken a vacation in a while. What do you say about this weekend?”

She pauses; leans back in her chair.

“I would love to”, she says as she takes a sip of digitaltea, “but I have to be in Planet PSLOG on Saturday.”

I pause; I sigh.

“Ok”, I say as I take a bite of the digitalturkey.

I turn my head and look out the window.

“Oh!”, I continue as I pick up my glass of digitaltea, “I picked up this for HR´s graduation.”

I take the digitalpaperback out of my bookbag.

“Girl Hero?”, my wife says as she picks up the book.

“Yeah”, I reply as I take another bite of digitalturkey, “it was in the clearance section.”

“It looks good!”, she replies as she picks up a digitalturkey slice.

I turn my head to look back out the window; back to her; down at my plate of food; back to her.

“Yeah”, I reply as I take a sip of digitaltea, “yeah.”


“Today we´re going to learn about project charge.”

I pause.

“So”, I say to the class in the auditorium through the microphone in my kitchen, “when we do a project, a person signs off on it; that means that they are responsible for it; the consequences. Do you understand?”

A student raises a hand. I turn the spotlight on and point it to their chair.

“So”, the person says as they stand up, “when you say WE, who are you referring to?”

I pause.

“You know”, I reply through the microphone, “I don´t really know–maybe it´s my college, or my work, the people I went to high school with, the people in my vicity, my family, my collegues? It´s not really something that I specifically decide on–like this person is in my WE or they are not in my WE. It´s just a way of saying that the group that I´m in does THIS or THAT. Really, it´s not about the membership. It´s about understanding that your actions have resultants. If I push you, and you move, and you hit the person next to you–well, I don´t hit that person but because I did something, push you, that person was hit. Does that make sense? Like it´s about how–I may not be the person who did it directly, but as a result of my action, this happened or that happened. It´s why personal responsibility matters–it may not be about the person directly next to me, but what happens next. Because I did something this person was impacted and moved. You may not know how your actions effect others–because you can´t, necessarily, see the interactions that you don´t see. Make sense?”

The student pauses.

“Yeah”, she says as she starts to sit down, “not really. We think you talk too much.”

I pause.

“I know!”, I say as I lean back in my chair, “you´re right.”

I pause.

“So anyways”, I continue speaking through the microphone, “there´s a test on Friday. Good luck!”

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“Understand that I does not exist–it´s simply WE and You“, I say as I sip the coffee. (6/10/2018)

“Yeah”, the barista says as he rolls his eyes, “so that´s great. Were you going to pay your bill?”

I chuckle.

“Yeah”, I reply as I pull my digitalwallet out of my pocket, “here put it on the chip.”

He waves the digitaltarjeta in front of the small receptor.  My digitaltelephone beeps; transaction alert.

“Thanks!”, he replies.

I pull the digitaltelephone out and hit propina 15%; his phone beeps in his pocket. I turn around and take a step to leave the small cafe.


“So”, my wife says as she turns to the refrigerator, “how did it go?”

I pause; sip my coffee; look out the window; back towards her.

“He still wants to be business partners”, I reply as I lean back in my chair in the kitchen, “I just don´t think that he understands the work–the responsibility, the commitment, the real side of being a writer.”

“You know”, she says as she places the plate into the digitaldryer rack, “you should give him a chance. It could be good for you.”

HR takes a step into the kitchen.

“Dad!”, she exclaims, “I got pet socks!”

I roll my eyes; lean forward and pick up my taza.

“You know”, I reply as I turn my head to her, “it´s not something we talk about.”

I pause; she wants to be on my team.

“Look”, I reply as I lean back and take a sip, “if you want to be on the team–stop.”

She turns her her to my wife; turns her head back to me.

“So”, she replies as she takes a step towards the kitchen table, “what are you saying?”

I pause; I sigh.

“You understand that it´s about the team. It´s what the team does–you don´t have to do something to be accepted. It´s about understanding that WE do this or WE do that; they don´t. You don´t have to have pet socks to be on the team. You just need to feel that WE do this or that. It´s just a place where you can fit in–it doesn´t mean to copy behavior. It´s like your mom with her HAKI habit–I don´t eat HAKI, but since we´re a team:

We do.

If your teammate does something, you do that–even if you don´t. Make sense? If you do something–we all are. If we let you on our team and you get good grades at school–we get good grades.  It´s why we´re selective–it´s about what WE want to do; it´s what WE accept. We want you on our team–let´s call it Team Pet Socks. Know that you don´t have to have pet socks to be on the team, but know, and feel, and accept, and internalize, that when you talk about your team, you say–we have pet socks. It´s team–not you.”

“So”, she replies as she looks down at the linoleum floor, “like what am I supposed to do with these pet socks? I don´t have the receipt to return them.”

“I´ll take them and we´ll put them on the cat.”

She hands the small package to me.

“Welcome to the team”, I say as I put my hand on her shoulder, “you headin´ back to school today?”

“Yeah”, she replies as she turns her head to me, “me and my girl wolfpack are taking a trip to the beach this weekend–I got to finish up my assignments and take my Economics exam on Friday.”

“Oh!”, I reply as I lean forward and set my taza down, “sounds like fun!”

She blushes.

“Thanks!”

She turns and takes a step towards the hallway; moments later, we hear the front door close.

My wife turns her head to me.

“Are you going to put those on the cat?”

I turn my head down to the small package on the kitchen table.

“No”, I reply as I hit recline on the side of the chair and lean back, “but it sounded good, right?”

My wife rolls her eyes.

“You´re such a jerk”, she says as she turns back towards the coffeemaker.

I pause.

“You´re right!”

I turn my head to look out the window; I turn my head to her; I pick up my coffee. I smile; I take a sip.

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“You need to know that I´m in a cult and we do pet socks”, I tell HR. #cute (6/7/2018)

“Dad!”, she replies as she reaches over for the digitalpapitas, “why do you keep these things secret?”

“Well”, I reply as I lean back in my chair in the kitchen, “it´s not a secret–I just don´t know why you need, or would want, to know.”

“Well”, she replies as she puts a handful in her mouth, “I want to know YOU–more about you.”

“Ok”

I pause; should I tell her?

Go on–take a chance, my wife thinks to me.

“Ok”, I say as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “we have rules:

➡ No hugs–that creates feelings and makes things weird; just don´t.

➡ First names only–and don´t talk in public, or make eye contact. Trust me on this one.

➡ Pet Socks. You need to have pet socks for your cat. Just how things go!

➡ Even though your cat is part of the family, don´t make your avatar YOU and Your Cat; it´s a part of the family, but it´s still a cat.

➡ We´re respectful–we don´t like THAT behavior. You´ll be ostracized.

➡ We don´t really speak in CODE–the best bet is to be straight-forward and to talk like an adult.

➡ You need to have chill–it´s boring, that´s our thing. We don´t do bored–that´s the enemy.”

HR pauses; I can do those things.

She leans back in her chair.

“I want to be in your cult, dad”, HR says as she reaches for another handful of digitalpapitas.

“Well”, I say as I take a sip of coffee, “you can submit an application like everyone else.”

“How do I do that?”, she asks as she leans forward and picks up her taza.

“Oh!”, I reply as I take another sip of my coffee, “it´s easy–just say hi!”

“That´s it?”, she says as she takes a sip of her coffee, “I just say Hi!?”

“Well”, I reply as I lean back in my chair, “that´s how you start–it´s a process. It takes time to join my cult. You need to start somewhere;

Say hi!, and let me respond; see how it goes.”

“So”, she says as she chews the food in her mouth, “I just greet you with an introduction.”

“Woah! Woah! Woah”, I reply as I slam my taza on the table, “be fucking friendly or we´ll reject you from our cult.”


“So”, my wife says as she stirs the pot of digitalzanahorias, “are you going to accept her into your cult?”

“You know”, I reply as I recline the chair in the living room, “I don´t think she has the chill yet. She wants to bring drama around ´cause she´s bored. I don´t think it would be a good fit. I saw her pet socks–I saw her pet socks. She put a picture of the cat on her socks–we don´t do that. We get super small socks from the pet store and put them on our animals–you know, it just starts that way. You let one person join who doesn´t follow the rules–and next thing, you know, it´s anarachy and stress. I know she´s trying to be friends and she wants me more in her life–I just don´t think she understands–

That, it´s about how it naturally happens. Everyone has a plan.

We are more about less planning, controlling, and more friendly; there´s really not much more to it then that.”

“I think”, my wife says as she puts the platter on the kitchen table, “that you should let her in.”

“No”, I reply as I lean forward and pick up the digitalspoon, “we have rules for a reason. I respect her rights; that´s the foundation of everything; bringing her into my life, more, would be to bring her into the life of all those in my cult also–it would be irresponsible of me. I respect the rights of others; without rules, it would just be a cult–not a CULT.”

“Yeah”, my wife says as she puts the scoop of hot vegetables on to her plate, “whatever.”

I pause; yeah. I turn my head to look out the window; I turn back to my plate; I eat a spoonful; I turn my head to my wife.

“It´s delicious”, I tell her.

“Thanks”, she replies, “it´s a new recipe.”

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