Portrait of several avatars in virtual reality posed to represent Bobby and the Copven

Bobby and The Coven

I wanted a real man but the only ones I knew was Momma’s boyfriends.

That was until I met my first boyfriend, Larry.

Larry was a sailor an’ he was such a real man he wouldn’t even kiss me.

I was hanging out with this chick named Denise.

She said she was a witch and she showed me how to do voodoo.

“Ya get some nail clippins an’ hair,” she said, “melt ’em in some wax—make you a doll—An’ stick a pin in.”

Denise held up a wax doll and jabbed a needle right where it’s heart would be.

Denise also got real chummy with Larry who was always on the look-out for a ”piece.”

One day, Denise gave Larry a bronze dildoe and told him it was a magic charm he could put anywhere he wanted.

That was the last I seen of them for three days.

Now Larry was gettin’ throwed out of the navy ‘cause some shrink said his “proclivities” was psychopathic.

A week later we was at Folly Beach.

Larry picked up a stick of driftwood and drew a big circle in the sand.

“Know what this is?” he said.

I shook my head, no.

“That’s snatch” he said.

“Gross!” I said.

Then he drew what looked like a long cigar curving beyond the lines of the circle.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Larry replied: “That’s a banana. I’m gonna eat that banana right outta that snatch!”

I spent the rest of that day listening to old Dionne Warwick tunes.

I was learning how to fix hair at a creepy old beauty school and lacked
200 hundred hours to graduate.

Old ladies staggered in with hardly no hair at all and want bee-hives.

They made me so nervous I wanted to yank them out of my chair.

I was fed up with beauty.

I was also fed up with Larry, who was putting the moves on my Sister.

One night Larry and me partied late.

That next morning I felt too tired for school.

Larry took some orange pills out of a matchbox and gave me one.

He said they would perk me up.

By the time I got to school everything started to dissolve.

“Acid!” I thought. “That bastard give me acid!”

I panicked and ran home.

There was Larry on the couch with my sister—An’ her legs up!

I stood in the doorway, caught my breath, and said: “What?—Have you done to me?”

Larry wiped his mouth an grinned: “Musta gave you the wrong pills.”

I threw myself up the stairs to my room and slammed the door.

It echoed in my head for a good ten minutes.

I’d never had acid before.

Little devils danced around my body — And jabbed at it with pitchforks.

I rolled around on my bed and moaned when Larry came in, “You all-right, bobby?” he asked.

His face melted into something nasty.

Even his hair, which was curly and the part of him I liked best, looked nasty.

He took my hand and asked me to give him some head.

I said in a real deep voice for him to leave me alone.

I closed my eyes and the next time I opened them—Larry was gone.

Five hours later the devils left and I was pissed!

Larry had two big duffle bags in my closet packed with cigarettes.

There was a balcony off my bedroom.

I took the duffel bags out to the balcony and tossed them cigarettes into the courtyard.

People scrambled out of their houses like I was some benevolent queen tossin’ money.

There was this place on King Street called the Octopus Garden.

Larry liked to go there to trip out in the black light room.

I filled them empty duffel bags with rocks and hauled them the two miles from my house to town. I must have looked like some little ant dragging two fat roaches.

I got to the Octopus Garden and there was Larry.

I called his name—he turned—an’ I slammed him over the head with the first bag! He fell forward an’ I smacked him in the ass with the second bag.

Then I raced home to call Denise and tell her all that happened.

Now, don’t let anyone tell you that voodoo don’t work ‘cause it does!

That night Denise called her coven together.

We gathered at the old graveyard behind the Unitarian church.

She had us dudes all in capes an’ she had on a sexy evening gown nun’s habit.

She gave me a book and told me to read from it real loud:

“Ah call upon the powers of be-lial an’ astro-turf!”

Denise giggled. “Asteroth!” she said.

“Aster-roth!” I bellowed.

Then I held up the doll and stuck a pin in.

The gossip was that Larry was in the black light room at the Octopus Garden when he doubled over and had to get taken to the hospital.

Well that made me feel bad, so the next day, I went to the old graveyard, dug up the doll and pulled out the pin.

I never loved anyone the way I loved Larry.

And he decided to fly home to his family in Utah.

There was Larry: boarding the plane.

And me—just wishin’ I had one of them dolls.


(c) Rob Goldstein 1995, 2015, 2017 All Rights Reserved

46 thoughts on “Bobby and The Coven

      1. I’ve learned to accept the that it’s hard for people who don’t have DID to comprehend the dialectic of separate personality states that don’t exist yet do. When I was first diagnosed I tried to normalize it and I realized that for most people it’s too weird…Especially the Second Life avatars. My friends couldn’t see beyond SLs reputation as a haven for losers. Too bad because VR is an amazing achievement.

        At the time I thought, who am I to judge, I’m kind of a loser right? I have DID.

        But for us, SL was never about ‘replacing’ life.

        It was more about letting my alternates express themselves in new ways.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you. I appreciate the effort. The truth is that I don’t know what it looks like. I do know that all of my alternates have the same moral core which means that we all operate from a sense of duty. Who knows what we might have been without DID.


      3. Life would be crazy if not on same moral code. Are you talking about not knowing what the invitation looks like? If so I can try to cut and paste what you’re looking for. I thought I understood you finally received and thought Facebook was the glitch.
        If all else fail I can print one and mail. If you sign by the part that says except I may get more help from WordPress.
        Let me know status and I can go from there, I’m patiant when it’s important. This is important and we will get it done.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. It generates thru WordPress, it comes straight from site to your email. I don’t receive a copy, when it is sent back is when I know you received and sent back. If you haven’t received any it sounds like a WordPress issue. You haven’t received any of the invitations? It’s a fluke glitch or WordPress or Yahoo.
        Sounds like it’s time for a call to WP. Have a great Monday. I have 2 doc appts in afternoon. Fun, Fun!

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Once the invite is goes straight to me. There is nothing left for you to do until I take 10 minutes in back office admin. One that is done, The entry to others sites will appear and you set in and hopefully WP files will pick up your site live. My confusion stems from the asking for password. Chances are you were trying to do an admin function which requires a password. If you still have the original invite, accept it and send back. I’ll look to hear you’ve sent or don’t have.
        The most concerning is you’ve only received one invitation out of poss 10 I’ve sent. I still have to work it out. My priority #1 is getting you access to the site. I have so many new followers because they think awesome work is coming from me. I want you to know how awesome you are.
        Hugs M

        Liked by 1 person

      6. It is. I often have to check a post to see what people are commenting on. Each alternate has an email account, my therapist cc’s all of them.

        And in general different alternates control different social media accounts though we’re mindful of people we know in common. It creates something of a sense if unity but I don’t really know since I don’t know what it looks like on the outside.

        Liked by 1 person

      7. I’m used to it. I spend alot of time working on various projects. As a child I was safe only when I was alone. It’s not as if DID is entirely bad. If you’re an artist you have access to a rich imagination and multiple perspectives.

        Liked by 1 person

      8. My friends mistook the DID for genius and the shrinks called it ‘rapid cycling bi-polar disorder’. The tipoff that it was the wrong diagnosis should have been that no medication they gave me worked. DID is not genetic, it is an adaptive behavior induced by abuse. The only treatment is psychotherapy and I can happily say that it works.

        Liked by 1 person

      9. I had no idea DID was not genetic. I can see where the rapid cycling Bipolar could look like at a distance. There must be so many people who are DID and misdiagnosed. I’m treatment resistant and for years and over 40 med/combos later did my dr get the mix right. I had no idea you didn’t take meds for DID. I learn something new from you everyday.

        Liked by 1 person

      10. DID is not genetic though a child who develops DID may have a greater genetic ability to dissociate. Meds don’t work to stabilize or cure DID. I take meds for problems with sleep and concentrate. But the treatment for the DID is psychoanalyses and DBT.

        Liked by 1 person

      11. I re-read the question and think I understand now. Bobby is always Bobby. If he’s changed, it’s because he has access to the accumulated in formation of the adult alternates. Child and teen alternates are sometimes called ‘Claudias’ after the child vampire in the Ann Rice novel. He’s a child with the life experience of an adult.

        One of the reason’s he hasn’t been out more is that he likes to play in Second Life and don’t want them logging into it.

        It’s a toxic environment for people with DID

        Liked by 1 person

      12. I’m glad to hear that. I try to use social networks to make friends, my problem is that I’m reclusive and for all of my openness, rather private. It’s odd — I write about private things to preserve my privacy.


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