31/August/2020
the fine line between diary and Noir
There has been such a heaviness lately ....
and something somehow off between Jörn and myself ....
and now his comings and goings .... and there are so many things ..... left unspoken between us.
Things I wish .... that he would say .... and I guess do
and this sense of something that feels not right seems to consume me
unless it is just me — like how I know I push away....
.... maybe it is the reason and this method has just worked to riddle me
but there is something between Jörn and I
I can’t place it ....
and with it an uneasy feeling of exposure ....
this feeling like he has gotten through some crack I ....never expected him to find
and too —Jörn’s missions of late have become ever more mysterious; they have left me to wonder more and more about who he is in alliance with and .... still, even though in the end, mostly I find myself concluding that .... he seems mostly in allegiance to himself.... but this thought does not, however, bring me to believe that he is like any kind of mercenary either; no I would not think that either, really, you see, because I do see—he does have morals, and, as I have found, like, how I have seen in his actions towards his own family, he is devoutly loyal to them so, he does have his own high standard of ethics, I have seen myself.... even as he would not broadcast this; he would rather keep everyone guessing for reasons only he knows
He left some time about a week ago expecting to be back by now and as he is not, I suppose I guess I’m .... disappointed
there have only been short messages by text from him that are so evasive .... to leave me wondering
and maybe I must bolt the walls
and beware the vampire eyes
and so I spend a few days avoiding thoughts of him and driving aimlessly, as this time he has left the car with me, and also wanting to avoid people but today I find I drive to the trail that we went to that day and decide anyway to get out to hike it
and it makes me think of that day.... and I start to think about that odd thing that happened that day. When it was so hot.... and how lightheaded it made me .... and how ever since that ....thing that happened I .... yes! I realize .... that is the day I noticed .... the change
it was after; like something different ..... but was it me or him?
.....
I stop to think about this and sit in the exact spot we were at that day. I try to think. What happened?
Today it is less hot and a there is a breeze as I think to clear my mind.
And instead decide to free my thoughts from things.
The world even.
Out here alone it is almost possible. Off the radar where here I can pretend I’m not a part of that world where it seems the inmates are running the asylum these days
.... I would so much rather be out among trees and tall grass where even the brutality of nature I trust more than humans and their nature.
*****
But
returning to the world is unavoidable because the Adirondaks gets dangerous when you can’t see your way in the dark
When I return later, though, I find I feel so caged .... and pace the barnhouse..... and I feel overwhelmingly claustrophobic and find too that I’m — actually angry
Yes at Jörn.... because ok it is my birthday ....
And maybe I’m being childish, I mean so what? Right? who really wants to celebrate getting older anyway, but ....still I feel angry at him .... for not bothering to be here
so i guess that’s why I go to the gutted farm house as if I’m about to murder someone and nearly kick the door down
and I walk right past my mediums and ignore my painting with the table of my clutter of brushes..... as I am in a wild frenzy, and I’m clearly losing my wits, so I am now madly searching the shelves as if looking for evidence for something
like what? I don’t know
maybe to see if there is anything more like of his cryptic receipts lying around .... but of course by now I am almost completely enraged. And unfortunately I find nothing more, really, as the shelves are mostly bare besides some cans of plaster and besides that it is a little grimy and dusty, it is all quite neat and clearly visible; all in order —but then.... something suddenly catches my eye I guess I never noticed. That key? ....I stop in my rise of this strange hysteria as ....I notice it hung on a peg ....I don’t think it was always there—? I decide it seems a bit new as it looks shiny as if just cut by a key master or— do I imagine that?
So I turn around and start wildly looking for things to give me an idea of what it goes to.
And now my thoughts go to that day with that woman and that Smulagan guy....
Why am I thinking about that day? Because wasn’t it that day when they came to the house ....it was when he had just returned that time ....when they said he was seen at the airport.... yes, that’s what it....was.... because I remember wondering ....
How did he get to the house without coming through the back?
Which I am only remembering now— why....?
I’d totally forgotten this till just now....
And my heart is pounding in my head for no reason but .... just a weird feeling
and I start searching the walls for—what?
What am I searching for? Cracks in it, hidden panels ....? ....and .....I search the floor planks too.... cracks in the the floor.... and then go through to the gutted kitchen....like a maniac now as I now search the parts under the sink, and by now I am covered in dust and filth but I find don’t really care .... and get down on my hands and knees looking at every joining angle to the wainscotting and crawling over ants and dead bugs — shit! I get a splinter— which hurts —as it goes deep in my hand, gross blood, I hate blood ....and I have to get up to wash now and work it out
What am I doing? I think. I’m crazy, I must be....
I have to question my wild state. What is wrong with me? This is stupid, I’m in rewind if my life with Chris, it must be because he’s been texting me all day .... stop myself and calm down ..... forget this .... go back to the house and take a bath and just fuck everyone
And Jörn ....? I mean —he tells me to get divorced yet.... he’s still with what’s her name....
Fuck birthdays
—I wash my hands in the sink as if to wash him off me and then turn around to lean against the edge of the sink and shake my head mostly angry with myself then
But .... then.... I glance up
And something catches my eye. I notice something
How long has that been there?
I go over to where my table is with my brushes and buckets.... drawn on the wall.... Like in black ink. Scratched in. No, it’s new. I would have noticed.... I think? Like a very crude drawing that.... is not very good, actually, but that looks like....? What is that? it looks like maybe it could be —what? like a drawing of —is that supposed to be a drawing of a light switch? It is more like black marker I guess; a long rectangle with a lever thing it looks like, maybe. Weird.... but it makes me think—remembering now something else. By the sink. There is a switch that doesn’t go to anything but it seemed to be like it should be for a garbage disposal but if you flip it nothing happens. Which I remember I found kind of peculiar especially because after I asked Jörn he seemed oddly unconcerned. That sudden thought makes me go to it now. First flip it up and down again a few times. Nothing. So I I tap it, press on it to hear if it’s hollow ....,then search for a screw driver.
But there’s nothing around; not even a toolbox around.... so I try my fingernail —but that doesn’t work at all, as it tears my nail. Is this nuts? I’m crazy. I’ve obviously lost my mind again. What am I doing anyway? I wonder.... only no, no—that drawing .... it actually —looks seems new as if freshly drawn which I guess I should wonder mire about but I don’t
I mean, instead I’m thinking —I would have seen it before as it’s right by my brushes and
I think about ....Jörn’s casual shrug when I asked as if to change the subject when I had wondered about the switch, like what’s it for....
I find an Allen key in the drawer by where Andreas kept his stash and go back to the switch plate and start unscrewing the little screws ..... my heart pounding ..... as — well
I unscrew it and —remove the plate and
I see what is behind it.... a lock....like the kind you put in a door
So now I run to get the key on the wall and try it..... and yes, it fits.... it turns.... and ....I hear a sound, like a quiet hum —like the kind of sound that .... garage door makes as it opens.... but .....this is not a garage door
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