Electra’s dictionary & film noir(jmmusechroncont) Je réfléchis à— pourquoi devrions-nous rencontrer maintenant?

 

later, as he drives, we head to Chesapeake Bay 

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I can feel his tension 

He scowls and makes that sound of frustration, there is no translation for on my app

“You’ve been out of the loop of things ….” he sighs heavily 

“Oh. You mean no internet ….is this about Ukraine?” I ask

He doesn’t say anything and hardly responds but I can tell by the tension in his shoulders and spine. After a moment still staring out into the horizon he says,

“I may have to go deep cover for awhile—“

“You’re going?!” I move closer to read his expression but his profile is turned to me. And I feel myself become upset —and it makes me think of…. another who was once left behind

after a deep labored sigh, he shrugs, 

“it’s just slightly too close to my own backyard to ignore this this time—as it will be for everyone—sooner than later—duva, you know, it is my work—you know that….”

“something that goes beyond life and time ….” I say and ….think about fear and trauma …. it is no way to live 

 “that’s why you asked if I am comfortable here…. so…. what….? I may never see you again—“

“duva—“

“—or just too late ….”

 or by some society who would respect my space & not exploit me

 but the problem is, I don’t want to ‘trend’ ….I’d rather be found by some underground subculture ….and by that necessary chance of those few who are out there like me —who were also in search of ….

ma muse, pour toi 🎟; mon guide à travers l'enfer

e.d. —thoughts today for the dictionary/as background backstory for series 4

so, what happens is that, it does trigger the old scars

 and the unpredictability of what will surface and when….

in the aftermath of the newest trauma

well …. as the layers of the sheild wall melt off, with the adjustment to quiet —it does fool the senses to relax…. so then like a bolt or smack like a crack of a whip 

….cannot stop washing…. it is as if it is all over my skin…. to scrub it off….can everyone see it?

….

 I will not be branded 

is it a scent?

….a song?

….a random flash of a memory or—the insensitive remark by someone of a reference to a similar experience 

like a power keg ready to go off 

no, I was never big on crowds anyway …. but I used to try to convince myself to think people were worth the effort but, now, I don’t know. I really like animals better. And trees. I know there are some ok people out there. somewhere. I guess. the ones who trickle through 

but lately I’d rather create my own world apart ….

every experience forms an artist. I cannot ignore my experiences.and my work could never continue in a vacuum. of course this is part of the work …. that was why it ever began; it is about truth and as my reactions of things that happen causes the course…. to flow another way—it is a pilgrimage 

I am different from who she was when the Dictionary began 

recreated so many times—does it make me a better tree with new rings?more rings…. the roots go so deep….

I am resigned I think to accept it as what “is” —while no, it’s no mistake I ever landed here, but to be a part of—only apart is that endurable and I just don’t care anymore if I’m to be called a loner or recluse because who says that no longer matters to me and it never ever had to

I see it now 

not everyone is meant to take down the house and I’m ok with that 

….why do people stare?

🕳👠quelque part dans la foule🏛

Electra’s dictionary and film Noir/Noir days; dawn’s highway (jmmusechron)sr4

Dear e.d…..there are moments where—I swear, I panic ….forget how to breathe ….and I think “it’s crash and burn ….on my own ….lost out in space” ….I can’t breathe ….all the frauds I have known in my life —how can I ever know who to trust? who are these people —they are all liars….all liars ….I scream at the walls …silently …. Oh my god how did I get here. even texting UN Jackson about all this is strange ….How did I ever get here?  ….and where exactly am I ….? I stare at nothing, see nothing and only live in thoughts that no longer makes sense …. and the dreams are so ….sick 

*****

I sit in the car as Jörn drives silently 

but after awhile he says,

“Maryland? I…” he shakes his head 

I just watch reaped cornfields that I don’t even see ….crop circles …. anyone….? 

Jörn is saying…. by the buz of the road,

“right under our nose ….I just…. how, duva? How….because none of this makes any sense—“

“Stop the car, please,” I say calmly and look straight ahead. I repeat it too. Twice; like I do everything —like some idiot or maniac and ….easily both ….some fucking idiot 

I get out and start walking down the road 

It is awhile before I realize I am sat on the ground with my head in my hands and somewhere out there he is talking to me 

“I’m just trying to understand,” I hear him say 

“Yeah….” I say as if I agree 

“Where—?when….or do I mean how?” he says 

and it is something in his voice that pulls me somehow back to …. earth 

but it is a mistake as I fall apart 

“I’m sorry,” he says 

“No…. it’s just me….I guess I felt sorry —“there I break, “…for him—and ….he was fooling me—it was an act because then ….” And then I realize I don’t make sense 

I take a deep breath,

“I got a call when I went to help your father with the suitcases—remember that day? Your spy convention and—“

“I remember —you don’t have to remind me, I was there,” he says with a strain of frustration 

“Ok—yeah, so it was the drugstore. They said they found a credit card of mine I dropped the day I was there—which I should have realized was not true as I don’t have those on principle — but…. I don’t know, it was the drugstore in Southampton and I figured maybe they had something important of mine if not a credit card so—but I don’t know —he was at the area by where they do things like vaccines and —I didn’t recognize him, it’s been years—“

“Slow down,” he says….

and so, watch the sunset and hyperventilate 

“How did you meet Sunny?” Jörn half laughs and I look up

“I was walking down the highway…. literally ….passing cornfields and ….I got a lot of attention —“

“I bet—“

I laugh,

“I had to do something—no public transportation and three hours away by car to anything! Shit! Some creep from my past …. do you know what he told me? He’s thought about me every night since the last time he saw me —when was that? A million years ago….I don’t know how someone gets that fucked up—but why is it always me that weirdos go for—freaks …. he’s seriously out of touch with reality, not to mention a violent and raging alcoholic ….he really had no intention of letting me go….”

After awhile he says,

“well, he’s disappeared…. are you comfortable here? You could not have found a more unlikely swat team—a retired FBI agent in the middle of a cornfield ….” he laughs 

“I know—like how I met Willem….” I look up at Jörn to watch his eyes 

He nods and looks back at me,

“I know what you are thinking ….”

I shrug, 

“Well…. do you blame me?”

“Your imagination could get you in trouble ….Sunny checks out—Langley and DC were on the way and ….you know they never ‘retire’ ….”

But I forget the panic for just one very small moment and put my fingers in his hair to pull him to me and then trace his eye with my finger tip, to then stop at the top of his cheekbone 

“You know who we think is behind this….?” Jörn asks hesitantly 

“We?” I snicker “you-and-Willem?”

“And Stina.”

The way the light is angled can alter the tones of his eyes; they are ‘prism cells’, I think, as I do to his other eye the same

 and say to him,

“put you mouth here….”

and point to mine

 —but I don’t really wait 

 🏛

🕳the rush for the man with the vampire eyes🏛💋

this box is in the photo, not in the painting, but it’s funny there

this will look a thousand times better after I go over it in oil paint. I look at it, after not seeing it for awhile, and ….it anchors me, it seems

 Je suis désolé;  J'ai été distrait par le chaos

reconnecting with old friends 

it calls to be complete  

what’s in the box?

 

6 months later: Electra’s dictionary and film Noir/Archetypes and Euphemisms as code(series4)

And so, you may begin to suspect that not all of this is fiction

and that the most unlikely parts are the actual events 

I find that I cannot process this as reality and, as a matter of course, it seems now is the best moment to let readers see how the walls —which are, in fact shield walls, connect and then ….can veer off down hidden paths 

….watch within the walls I dissolve in, in a maze of amazement ….as I type this with trembled fingers as each moment is a step closer to a state of peace 

but until then ….my Noir real world ….in an fbi cocoon 

I pace the rooms as if each is a prison I must escape …. 

simple things like internet access….

 not second guessing every move 

responding to text messages or choosing not to —as I have found my filter of tolerance of anyone who showed their fakenes to me …. has changed me to become a cold bitch to them or my chosen tactic is to just disappear ….gone like a ghost as if they never knew me

I have had these rare moments as I wait for Jörn to arrive where…. I understand now why all these things happened …. it is still a very dangerous world when you are a slight female alone and no matter how clever I may be, my weakness is always my generosity of faith to others and that is my downfall which I have paid again for with my own body 

I watch from the window as I see Jörn arrive but turn away as he looks up…. the last time I saw him was that day in Southampton New York when his parents arrived …..

(I Hitchcocked this one, do you see my shadow?lol!) drive up front “lawn”
 

                 And what shall we call this, my lord?

arrivée précoce 🕳🏛💐

 “Kate, that is the moon.”

“But it is the sun.”

“Yet say it is the moon as it pleases your lord.”

“It is that you are lunar, my lord, so it is the moon.”

 

& yet in the midst of the madness, there has been reward as my Persephone has been returned to me 



Thriller

 

Word processing for self help (and if you choose to abandon this artist from recognizing her Art as the whole of her work, that is sad but I’ve witnessed friends are fake and this is my work for all that I am; accept me as I am or fuck off)

do I find his stories of capers a great distraction from ….well, what I’m trying to not think about 

never look back …. but it happened and …. it was mad …. and I did not need another scar so,anyway 

someone in his field would have seen his fair trade of exposure to combat I would imagine and agents suffering from the ….after affects 

he tells me with kindness that he sees I’m going through PTSD as he has training in coaching this ….he was there, he got me out of there and saw the departing scene as he was a part of it and —he tells me six months at least I should expect …. the flashbacks, the hysteria, the hyperventilating but there are woods and his hunting grounds all to myself to hike as it is a wildlife preserve …. and he has rifles everywhere alongside his hunting trophies as ….he tells me I’m safe here and ….I dare say, with his oxygen tank for his emphysema I ….don’t feel under threat there and actually, hopefully, more under his protection as I did witness his intervention on my behalf —when nobody else was there—he got me out of there…. I just wish the terror would stop, I made myself not feel all that time. not think too much about what was happening because it would not have been possible to …. keep it up. the shield. the sword. the armor. you become what is otherwise lacking, I am my own knight but I cannot hold myself up anymore which is not like me at all ….not in a long long time was that road kill me, but I will rise like the phoenix and the dawn ….I swear, that ass will not have the pleasure of defeating me because —he is worthless, putrid garbage and when I get back up, I swear that I will smear him. I just need some peace and ….some time

A marker for a page; dawn’s highway

and so….it was no accident the subtle hints and mentions of stalkers recently here —they’ve been a pattern in my life. both genders. and always terrifying when it’s happening. I have not been ok, and, you know, I don’t know if I ever will be …. able to let anyone near me again …..a person who stages and traps a person …. what I wrote here back in late spring and early summer —well, it was a cover in case he read my blog

and so I guess this one has been obsessed with me since high school and woe to me the lengths someone would go to try and force their will ….and all that last month and the GFM was about what was going on—but what saved me in the end? A chance meeting with a retired FBI agent who stopped in his car one day to talk to me when I was walking the highway ….I guess he sensed something was up— and now I’m working for him

my actual life is more strange than my stories. and always, it has been this way ….