Noir Cell for Celves (edjmmusechron)

And for awhile I sit there still ….I don’t know if it is the surreal reality of some conjured serendipity from a wearied, warped lens of some sleeping monster that causes time to feel so still and so frozen and it makes me shiver as if cold through to my bones and…. I think of Jörn just watching me from a surveillance camera from some other part of the world —like I’m a goldfish in a glass bowl

But I ache to know, what is the world doing out there? I get up and pace to the other side of the cage, searching what I see around me and as covertly as possible, I glance around looking at all the angles where I think I have worked out where the cameras are hidden.... as I know he’s watching me .... and so what does that mean? is it just part of his spy work? or does that mean that he cares or .… how can I not be cynical? My track record with people is just not great—present situation a great example; see what happens? I land in a dungeon 

And —where is he? where is he now .... ? —now—as I sink and steep inside my tunnel vision and feel the walls contour and feel suffocated and squeezed airtight shut within these walls ....

like a padded cell, I think, trapped in a cell …. for celves 

do you hear the best when the noise sounds out all reason? 

if this is Paradiso why does the staircase goes down?

Noir ‘Signs & Messages’ (edjmmusechron)

I spend awhile reviewing the monitors panning the property from the cameras angles I never knew there were cameras hidden. Which leads me to reconsider closer the depths of Jörn’s dedication to what he does 

For awhile I am fixed on the spot standing there staring at the phone on the desk and consider what to do. 

after awhile I sit down at the desk and do the same when I become aware of feeling faint from the exhaustion of hours of anxiety .... I don’t even know what is going on in the world .... in a world that every five minutes something catastrophic happens simultaneously with another and the loss of connection to this world by means of cellular technology can set a tailspin into making one believe one can be jettisoned out of the solar system without this power line connection 

and then I look around at my surroundings .... deep in the quiet catacombs, this dungeon cave .... how long can a human last without nourishment? What if I never leave here? I lean onto the desk and fold my arms and put my head down inside.... and after awhile sit back into the chair and look up at the computer screen that is open to my email page

It is then I see my email refresh right in front of me. There is a new email 

It is from Jörn....

and before I decide whether to ignore it or not I see the subject say: DON’T USE THE PHONE! He’ll know you’re there!!!



From a Noir Dungeon (edjmmusechron)

 

The mind gets up to such strange things alone with just ones own thoughts. At first, it seems sound. As the hours pass, though, the thoughts turn to questions. Then to doubts. Then to thoughts that travel past where the edges of the map don’t continue, 

where you fall off the edge of the globe that is without dimension and flat—where there be dragons 

It seems soundproof inside the underground, no sounds seem to penetrate the farmhouse floors and so, not possible to know what is happening. 

I did not go right away to the cage where the computers are with the cameras and the internet, being too scared to move a muscle or make even the slightest sound. 

Even as I tremble and cannot stop. I have known this kind of fear before. Too often. I’ve been here before in my mind and well recognize this kind of fear ....you would think I would be accustomed by now

It seems that even the tiniest sound I make is amplified in the hollowed catacomb-like cellar-basement ....I hardly let myself move for hours. And after awhile the shaking gets painful.... and with it, that slippery slope, my mind sinks deep to; those monster dark places I’ve known before when living in fear ....and hiding

but after what had to be hours of shaking, I become aware of pain and it is the pain that prompts me to move

Remembering a bottle of ibuprofen in a drawer by the computer I usually use as I work on orders, I force myself to move from the cramped position huddled inside the box on the conveyor belt when I landed there through the trapdoor shaft. 

For hours I had gone over thoughts.... reminded myself that I never knew this basement even existed and thus knew it was well hidden

 ....but then debate with myself with the question —would the intruder think to look in the farmhouse? If so, was it possible to hear if someone was under the ground floor? As I never had the opportunity yet to test this as I was always either alone here anyway or Jörn was with me, so knowing if sounds are audible had not been witnessed yet for myself and I didn’t know if Jörn had ever been there without my awareness when I was in the farmhouse painting. 

Still, as it was so very quiet down here, like a tomb that it was at times quite eerie, I might believe that indeed it must be soundproof —but, the memory of the disguised person wearing the full face mask and how threatening his appearance was left me with a sense of extreme trepidation on whether or not to depend on the assumption 

With my phone now dead there was also the attraction to be drawn to tempt it in order to try and reach someone for help using the business line Jörn installed for Cabaret or his other work—and by way of the internet, I thought it worth the chance if I was careful not to make a sound. I climb out of the box carefully and lower myself from the conveyor belt. 

I go to the gated caged part taking care of every step, minding where I step and keeping every step silent. First to the drawer where the ibuprofen is. It is when I glance up noticing the cameras while swallowing them down that I think of Jörn’s surveillance network. The few times he had been here with me doing work, I had watched him fiddle with the computer programs that alters the monitor to show angles of other live cameras from wherever he had it wired to. And because I had seen him do this before, I switch on the surveillance monitors .... and realize it is already angled and running .... not that this should surprise me as he had recently mentioned this to me a few times but I had not really paid much attention. 

So.... logic would tell me.... as it may be viewed here on this screen, no doubt, wherever Jörn is, so too could Jörn view....

and considering my anger at Jörn, did this make me feel better?

.... the jury is still out on this, I decide 

sometimes the ropes you reach for in the darkness you only know are there when you feel that rope pull you back to solid ground

when you know they are really there 

Solo Noir/basic survival & the importance of relevance (edjmmusechron)

 

I guess world events of recent are keeping the spies of the world busy; Jörn has been away  —he has hardly, if at all, contacted me, and his old excuses seem empty these days.... so maybe it is time for some honesty with myself: I have been fooling myself; believing more can come of things and ....due to my feral instincts, instead of waiting for the inevitable, I now consider possible places to start another chapter. so caught up in thoughts I must not have been as observant as I should have been and making scenarios of plans in my mind, thinking of what or where to go next as.... even I know things are not stable anywhere 

still.... how can it all just be his stressful job? a spy openly after something he believes I have— never mind that he has never promised anything nor even suggested there ever could be a promise....so perhaps it is I am just not relevant to him 

....which is what was going on in my mind and why I was not as observant as I might have been. It was on my way to the bedroom in search of my phone to look something up about possible destinations to move to, and after I find my phone where I left it beside the bed, I leave the bedroom and head to the stairs to go back to the kitchen where I left the laptop to do some work on the computer—I’m not sure if it was the oddness of the sound that caught my attention.... the trash bins outside.... as it is not the day for it. It seemed to carry oddly an irregular tone. 

And just stepping outside the bedroom door I hear it and freeze stock-still.

And then, it was just by chance that I see! — something catches my eye— it was the shocking sudden image as it was reflected off the glass of the barn’s wall-sized window plate .... I see someone in plain sight outside on the grounds by the house! It is someone there or —is it just shadows I see moving....? no, I look more carefully at it as it moves slowly—yes, a man that is!.... it is now more clear as the clouds shift revealing from shadow, an actual image reflected on the glass quite sharp, a darkly clothed figure. I reach for my phone, take a shot of the reflection.... then pull close to view him; heavy set, muscular. And now notice my phone only has 5% charge ....with fingers now trembling, enlarge more, he’s wearing a mask; a full-faced one, not the friendly kind —and dressed completely in black—and drawing a dramatic, if not stunning contrast against the white outside from the fresh foot of snow from the recent storm ....and lending a very clear and a very present, uneasy awareness of the very deserted stillness ....which surrounds the vicinity. In situations like this, a drawback to living in the rural mountains 

I force myself into action when it occurs to me he is on his way to the patio door! time to move and fast! 

I go down the steps, taking extreme care to stay hidden from the window’s line of view and hide behind pieces of furniture as I make my way in the direction of the kitchen. 

I reach the pantry just as I hear the side door click and then slide open, and blocking out the pounding of my pulse in my head, manage to quietly unlatch the trap door and make it through, quickly closing it to fast, bolt it and jump through 

I land in a box on the conveyor belt as I feel my phone vibrating

 —and then it goes dead .... 

drawn from darkness

 

I was surprised to see this, as I didn’t realize I had a better photo of it as, like all my drawings and paintings as well as all my books; it is stored away in a garage in Michigan 

I drew this during a 48 hour blackout in the dark when I was living in Cedarhurst NY and if you look closely you can see that the date on there coincides with that well known black out

 

we call them “the arts” but it really is our diary .... our hope, our book of days .... and the love letter we leave behind  

 

my silence, dictionary; the air has grown as brutal chill as the horizon. how fast into the dark ages from medieval.... we go in search of light 

do not let go

 

ever more still 

as was before 

so does it now remain