I really like having sex with the Cool Moss Goddess. The Cool Moss Goddess has to have everything go exactly the way she wants it but she is so so gentle it’s a little too much. But I am totally happy for her to do whatever she wants to do because she is very good at it. She is more intent on what she is doing than she is about me, like squeezing my left breast for ten minutes like it’s a puzzle she is very close to understanding the answer too, and sort of forgetting the rest of what’s attached to it.
The Cool Moss Goddess doesn’t care about me at all. I’m really happy about that. I am definitely maybe in love with her, but probably not, so this is ideal.
“Do you care about me?” I ask her. She is watching anime from on top of me.
“I like you right now.”
“Would you like me later?”
“I don’t live in the past.”
I wriggled on my stomach so I could watch what she was watching. She is taller than me, which is also great.
“This is nice. You’re comfy. But if you leave I won’t miss you. I won’t even notice you’re gone. I don’t need you when you’re not around. There’s nothing you could do to make yourself valuable to me. But this is nice.”
“Can you sign this paperwork?”
She scratches a green stain into the paper with her fingernail. It’s such a relief to spend some time with someone who doesn’t care at all about me.
Turning in the paperwork back at the International Memorial Committee branch. The secretary is still looking like she doesn’t even work there and I give her my paperwork again and she checks my ID and I hand it to her while thinking ‘whatever’ as quickly and as much as I can but she doesn’t ask me about anything but who even knows what that means, other than trying to imagine will make you hurt and crazy. So cool, maybe the secretary at the branch knows you’re trans too, who cares, like a million people know, whatever. Whatever whatever whatever. I am very badass and attractive in this jacket and my hair is flawless, although I want to check a mirror right now to be sure. I won’t, because that is crazy. I can not care about my hair for five seconds while she approves the paperwork.
“Come on, step over here for yr photo.”
She’s super nice and genuinely friendly in a distant way, like she’s just helping out someone because we both happened to be here and not because it’s her actual dang job. It’s so clear she doesn’t give a shit about me at all.
Whoops, I fell in love again.
So I’m going down to the Cool Moss Temple to meet up with the Cool Moss Goddess. She lives on the third floor of this apartment building that looks out on the park. She keeps these little balls of moss in glass jars all around the apartment and burns a shitload of incense and doesn’t pay any rent because she’s a god, and she is the one who stops the moss from growing on the sidewalks and buildings and streetlights and consumes our enemies slowly in the green. She’s on the floor because as usual she just can’t even, cheek snuggled against the ugly shag rug.
The rug is probably a donation because that’s what you’re supposed to do for someone who is living like a god. She doesn’t get to own anything of her own and she’s not allowed to have money. It rots in her hands anyway as soon as she touches it.
“I got you some more nag champa.”
I lay down next to her. It’s a comfy carpet. I could def sleep here. The Moss Goddess isn’t allowed to sleep either. She half closes her eyes and half falls asleep when it rains instead, and so that is almost all of the time here, like now, but I want her to pay attention to me. It’s warm in the apartment but I didn’t take off my jacket because I wanted her to notice my jacket I don’t think she will though. The Cool Moss Goddess doesn’t care about me at all.
“The incense smells nice.” She’s not allowed to say thank you. Gods are selfish.
“I got a new jacket do you like my new jacket.”
“It looks good. It wouldn’t look good on me.” Living the life of a god is setting a good example by being selfish and powerful. She is really good at both.
“Bring me a jacket that looks good on me.”
“Sure god.” I’m a god too. Everyone is a god. It’s pretty hard to make a living off just being one. Being stoned on the floor and talking with moss all day is exhausting and not very efficient. But neither is killing devils when everyone is stronger than the devil and they’re just an existential pest.
“God can you please sign this.”
“Take off your jacket.”
“I like that shirt when did you get it.”
“This shirt? I’ve always had this shirt.”
“I want it.”
“Do you want me to take it off?”
“No I’ll do it.”
She takes off my shirt.
“Nice,” she says.
“What shirt? Oh the shirt. I don’t care about the shirt anymore.”
“I’m just going to look for a while okay.”
It’s actually really nice to just be looked at until she gets bored of it. It feels meditative to try not breathing so hard and to watch her watch my breasts rise and fall so slightly before she decides it’s time to make out.
I’m at the license bureau because they want me to renew:
It is okay to steal or take things if it doesn’t hurt anyone.
I see or hear things that people around me cannot see or hear.
Breaking rules are acceptable if I do not get caught.
I would use a horoscope to inform an important life decision.
I have had romantic feelings for a member of the same sex.
I am not concerned with or afraid of the possibility of my own death.
I believe that I was gifted with powers by a higher being.
The world in its current state is sufficient.
I feel like I can understand or empathize with the devils.
I tell lies frequently, or I cannot tell the difference between fiction and fact.
It’s not a good idea to say true for more than three, but my actual answers were Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes, and Sometimes. The correct answers were No. I put down Yes for three because maybe they’ll think I’m not answering honestly if I just write all the right answers down, but if they make them that obvious who would answer any other way? I am absolutely overthinking this. That is probably part of the test too, but it’s also likely that if anybody working here cared about anything at all they would probably have already been super suspicious of me for like a dozen obvious reasons.
Actually, I meant to say “all of the times” for my real answer to number five.
When I hand in the paperwork the secretary looks kind of amused by it as if it has been telling her a funny joke and she holds it up right in front of her face while her elbows dig into the desk that must be like ten million years old of some old deep red wood. She makes absolutely no noise at all while she reads it, but i get the impression she is laughing at it? That is the sort of thing I would say totally falls under the category of imagining things that aren’t there. Unless I’m right and it is there. But I’m probably not right.
“Do you have a note from your therapist?”
Yep I sure do, it’s right here.
“Do you have a note from your doctor?”
“Do you have a note from a local religious authority?”
Totally. But she’s not super happy about it, probably because the title of the person who signed it is Cool Moss Goddess. She’s looking at me like, really? But she is very reputable.
“This isn’t signed.”
The Cool Moss Goddess is a lazy asshole.
But fortunately the branch doesn’t close for three more hours so I can go over to the Cool Moss Goddess and we can get a little stoned and maybe make out a little and then I can come back here having forgotten to get it signed again. Everyone wins.
“Nice jacket,” the secretary says on my way out.
I am doing a thing for the visual novel writing month, and that thing is writing 500 words every day and posting them here. If you want to write a book you’re never supposed to do something like this because a publisher won’t touch it if you published it somewhere else. But in video games they have no context for caring about that. I don’t know where this is going or if it’s going anywhere. It might be cool or it might not be but I will be having fun.
It’s the longest, greenest winter, and it isn’t even over, and all people can stay mad about is that there isn’t any snow, though it’s hard to blame them. It should be pale and wet and crunchy soft in the forest, but it’s as naked and mossy as ever instead, a big green lie like ‘oh those ferns are doing fine, that lichen is having a good time, I should go hang out with them’ and then you freeze to death. On ground so hard you could totally break your jaw on it if you wanted to.
However: I have a new jacket. It is a really good jacket. So I don’t mind so much. I feel very powerful with this jacket. So I am finding situations in which to wear this jacket. Like being out in the middle of the woods in the middle of the day. It can feel nice to be awake and cold so early, which is not the sort of thing one does without a good reason, such as hunting the devil. I’ve been talking with the devil for a while and he’s cool but it’s not like we’re dating or anything, and if I like, kill him, it’s not really going to be that big of a deal for either of us. I can reach my quota and he can go to the place beyond space and time where the devils live. Everybody wins.
(I win mostly it’s me winning.)
Steam rises from the water and it crawls along the forest floor whispering in all of the little ferns, telling them evil and sexy things but most likely nothing. You can never be too careful though, so I’ve been telling all the ferns to be very quiet all week. I think they are listening. Plants are supposed to listen to me, but they probably listen to the devil more, which is fine, because they are just plants, and everything is under our domain that is, whether they like it or not, except for devils of course, because they are not.
I like my jacket a lot so I’m waiting all this out, the sun shining through the moss and the barren trunks and the red metal that grows from the devil’s hair. The devil is reclining in a pond looking really hot. That’s so obnoxious. Well time to kill him.
And just like that the devil is gone. When the sun lit through the trees just right, I shot him right through the heart or whatever with a knife of nectar and that was that. I hope it’s clear if it wasn’t already, but devils are much much weaker than humans.