the pendulum of highs and lows seems to have blown all sails off course
....it seems lately like I am standing outside of myself, watching from far away, even occupied in whatever the task being done—like watching myself from a surveillance camera.... watching with no connection....no meaning
I have been wishing I could hop a magic carpet ride to some other time or universe....
and now, on top of it all, am aware I have developed a new phobia of people; as in encountering —or being anywhere a mile near —to the point, I fear I am becoming something freakish, when before it was only shyness, now I think it is become something dangerously close to certifiable
So.... it occurs to me now it has been a long while since I have been drunk or otherwise inebriated—maybe it is long overdue; perhaps it is time for a bender....
gripping the dictionary, Electra, dearest, to hazard sense of present life ....dear dictionary....
*****
Jörn goes for an early run, and is gone for awhile.... doing whatever it is he does during those morning, mystery phone-call jogs; wearing the mobile headgear apparatus while having conversations around the globe .....shifting chess pieces, bit and gold bullion. Who knows what else
The interruption of recent events of life which, on one hand, has kept him physically away but also in the other, with the preoccupation of other things, allowed me the excuse for the reconstruction of walls
****
It is much later when Jörn finds me in the cage packing up and going through pending orders and seems surprised
“You’ve been busy,” he says as I notice he is still in his black ninja running clothes
“It’s been steady. Paula is surprised,” I say
“Le Chevalier line?”
I stop what I’m doing and smile,
“not to brag.... eighty percent profit from last year, just by the addition of the new line.”
He comes over to look over my shoulder on the computer screen. I look up at him,
“I know you just wanted all this as a front for —well, whatever it is you do....” I say and try to read his expression
He shrugs and straightens up before he walks around to look over the neat stack of packed up boxes of orders and turns to glance at the loaded conveyor belt,
“I’m .... impressed. I guess I never expected you to be so industrial....” he walks towards the conveyor belt to get a closer look, “....eighty percent?”
“I’m used to keeping busy. Since we left the city, not having the Ethan estate to occupy myself .... it’s just nervous energy. Does it bother you?”
He turns to look at me from where he’s standing, across the distance through the cage door,
“why should it bother me? Maybe we should be partners,” he says lightly and walks back, “but I think your real talent is being wasted.”
“What’s that?”
But he just shrugs and comes over and says into my ear,
“by the way: you left the pantry trap-door open back at the barn-house. That is how I found you. If you want my plans of protection to be effective, you need to remember to —and make a habit of—closing it.”
“Oh....” I consider this.... “yes. I didn’t .... think about —that.... well.... it just suddenly occurred to me to use it as now I know how convenient it is to go between the barn house to the farm house ....” and look up at him ....
as I realize .... not for the first time either....
the key to communicating with Jörn is always .... in his subtle hints
he’s trying to tell me something
he does not ever say straight out what he really means
But he does always say .... what he means ....
especially when it is important to be said. But you have to search deeper for his meanings which on the surface is not always the obvious and not always clear
but at the moment....I guess I am busy thinking about a million other things. Without really wanting to be thinking at all. Wishing, instead, that I could get caught up in some mindless distraction
as if it were possible to turn off thoughts and redirect them that easily
now leaning over me where I now sit to process a shipping label, “you’re miles away,” he says
“And you should talk? You who are, no doubt, deeply involved with the world’s game of chess .... hacking and hatching political schemes—I’m surprised you find the time to wonder about my mental mileage.”
but even saying this exhausts me and feel the need to collapse into my arms and let out a heavy sigh, “I’m just wiped out....maybe it’s ‘long Covid’ or something, I don’t know....”
“Maybe you need your snack —what was it? Ground cacao was it— and honey? —you do know honey isn’t vegan.”
“You called me vegan— I never said I was....I just don’t eat things with families.”
“But you don’t mind robbing from the bees?” he asks.
I know he’s teasing even as he keeps a serious tone and expression
“You think they mind? —don’t you think they would fly away?” I ask and then say, “you don’t have to answer that. I know you think I have selective morality but beekeepers are helping to preserve an endangered species—and I know you also think my logic is crazy....”
He shakes his head, as he walks back over to look at the orders lined up on the conveyor belt, he seems to be holding in a laugh,
“When did I ever suggest you had selective morality?— or that I thought your logic was crazy?”
“Well you do. Don’t you? I can see by how you look at me—“ I say watching him
“How I look at you—?” he comes back over
“You’re doing it now—“
“You’re misreading me, then,” he laughs at me “are you sure you’re not projecting? I think I know what the problem is....” he leans over me and says something into my ear
******
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