…. life is so terrifying
you enter this world and it all starts
the canons in all directions
and it never stops
nobody says aloud —are you scared?
I am
all the time ….it is always war everywhere, even the kind in little worlds; we are all so fragile
why is love so intangible?
….peace, little dove, Electra
Electra’s dictionary and film noir/jmmusechron next chapter
So I find I think of Jörn all the time; constantly and …. I wonder was it always this way? ….is it only that I am conscious of it now because …. or is it the fear of what danger he may be in?
I think of the thrill …. those times at Lincoln center; rushing to concert just to see him …. to watch him up there, so beautiful and golden in the lights and now, who knows what dark cover he has assumed for this new caper
I don’t like this. Not to be near him has become a physical ache lately which— no, I don’t mean it in that way; I mean it in another way; a way I am not so familiar …. in a way that I never thought I was capable so—I wonder about it all with the world as it is
And I think about that Viking and that Celtic girl; a girl’s life I relive almost every night….
Maybe ….
it must mean something if it is another end to another era perhaps ….?
I think of him that day in the lobby the first time I saw him …. I really don’t think I am supposed to ignore ….
he wants me to write of him; in the din of our world our separate peace
he wants to read how my words describe what his voice does to me; or he wishes to crawl within my head and know my secret thoughts of him
words that require decoding because, well, he knows that every thought I reveal, I say a thousand more
so he wonders how would my contradictions describe one of —what— thousands of fleeting sexual thoughts of him?
assuming …. do I? today —where, how, and how many…. such a bad boy
so, this is yet another marker for a page
…. there has been something that has been weighing heavily on my heart and on my mind these last several weeks
I have known for quite awhile that the brother of my best friend since elementary school was dying of ALS. A most wicked, cruel and tortuous way to have to waste the ending days of a life
and so, this has been pressing upon my thoughts throughout all that has been on my mind for weeks
I remember him vividly, even though I’ve not seen him since we were young.
He was her second older brother; tall, wiry and athletic, with a confident arrogance. Even as a boy, he was breathtakingly handsome; a boyish version of my best friend. He was dazzling, I idolized him
and so, it makes me sad
so…. it seems, he has— at last, found peace
I mark this page for electra ….
…. his messages come to me and as clearly they do say so well; so very well….
as much as they do …. they do not ….
The backdrop of Nazis and Hitler was always present in my life growing up. The stories and accounts were always in conversation. They came to my ears from grandparents as —it was quite impactful to our family background; on both sides—they covered all the territory of the events then —and was why they left Russia and Poland
So then there now were the stories to hear from those we met in the Netherlands. And I remember one in particular I heard between my mother and an old survivor as they spoke outside the front steps of Anne Frank’s house and I listened to their conversation while I watched the canal boats…. you know, so, I guess it was not long since that Grim Reaper tore through when we first moved over there—relatively speaking, as I now look back and count the years
I have said that I was brought up by the old Dutch men at the local Traveler’s Grill down the road where I lived and where I’d hide out for hours with these two old men and their stories. That was my education on life and the world
and why I am so different from Americans where I am never understood by anyone
Well, they warned me of such things we see now happening but, well ….and I keep thinking of Milan Kundera’s description of the invasion of Prague in his novel —which he witnessed in actual life….
these wars and world wars —it is a battle that seems to never resolve…. it seems to me, dark forces that gain muscle through lust of power, it is some dark dinosaur within the replication of mankind ….they cheaply spend lives not their own and we record this in the chronicles that are full of lies…. so, this ‘work’ of mine…. is it just a diary? why do I do it, what does it mean
words in a journal, E.d.
Later….
still stuck to him, I think “he has washed away that other electra….” and think too much as usual, as I feel his fingers in my hair ….along with the heat as he moves to kiss my skin, going down my shoulder to my upper arm and stops there
I say,
“they send people into outer space and you wonder— for what —because it is not for humanity,” and then lean my head into him and close my eyes, “I find it all so empty and strange….don’t you? ….you know, mankind? —having the means to destroy with such venom when ….there are so many possible ….worlds….out there; maybe worse but who knows ….maybe not —maybe better—but would they bother to listen…. ?” I look up at him now, “so you are, what—just going, then? Like that, right? So, this may be ….like the last time we may ever see each other—“ and he makes no reaction so I say, “and, you know…. again, we may never meet …. would you be sorry?”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he says in that voice (….and all resolve goes out the window), as he says, “my mission requires I return here to DC in a week or so but—I said, duva, you will hear from me….”
“Well…. “I keep my thoughts to myself not wanting to tempt the fates and so have to consciously push away all dark thoughts ….and so thus wrapped around him and —with the water pouring down …. no, after all, not too difficult to be distracted
melodramatic
Only as I step down inside it, the darkness within surrounds me; just like that, like a blackout. is it a flatline….?
….but the breathing is hard
….he says to
The day suddenly got so chill. the curtain blown a cold with its waves of violence and shudders across the globe; are we really here again —I should not wonder again only why must the cost always prey upon those who never had a part of the bargain…?
everywhere. Such misery. Bleakness. Such bad news from people ….the climate of the chess board; it mirrors everywhere. The darkness that looms…. It is here
And…. it all seems so worthless ….
what was the point of any of the victories if you never get anywhere, it depresses me ….do I want to be a member of such a club?
& where is the Greek chorus when I really need one ? me —speak a voice to —what? them? such idiots. all of them…. instead of Shirley Valentine, I am Mulan
“Come here,” he says
but where is he? As it was dark stepping down into the boat and then —something came over me; it was the darkness ….but now my eyes adjust and then sounds too…. the lapping of the water is now mixed with …. running water, like a waterfall so, I follow the sound
It leads me within wood paneled walls to a shower running within a glowing light and there is Jörn stripped down and getting his hair wet under the water as he waves at me to come
I laugh, and look around behind me,
“no way! Somebody will come!”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he says and waves at me again to come
“So why am I doing this?” I laugh, but go anyway, “I just bathed, so I don’t think—“
he gets out dripping and starts removing garments off me as he says—peeling my jacket snd cardigan off together and then over my head, I’m buried —he says through my tshirt,
“this is not to shower, so be quiet.”
I laugh,
“oh I get it—“
“Think of it as a baptism,” he says this, by now it’s possible to see his face but only just as he works his way down quick and says, “get in,” with a nudge
“I don’t really want a shower—“I say as I get pushed in but —it is actually warm and nice, “a baptism….?” as it only now occurs to me what he said, “so is this your boat or —“ I start to sit down on the bottom but he pulls me up as he gets back in
our voices echo weirdly inside the shower stall
“It’s like a—“ and he smiles in that way as I look up
I say,
“are you going to say like an Airbnb”?”
He laughs,
“you’re starting to get things now—“
“so, how is this a baptism?”
“Be quiet a minute and close your eyes,” he says
so I listen to the water with my eyes closed and wonder if it is meant to be the waters of Lethe? ….Virgil ….maybe, this is his attempt at being symbolic or….no, I am wrong because —then I feel his teeth on my neck as ….his arms come around from behind me as —then I feel his mouth kiss my neck….hmmm
“is it that kind of baptism?” I ask
but his hands wash me instead,
“I said be quiet,” as he soaks my hair and starts washing it
“So glad I put make up on today—“
“You really don’t listen,” he says but kisses me
so we go from plague to war
I think about all my dead parents, the last two —now long dead, going on —what over twenty years now ….?
weird …. I think time froze for me …. people think I am so young —it is some weird anomaly about me …. a deception of reality as —I am quite old ….they might call it fairy ‘glamour’; a charm…. no.but I think it’s because I got frozen at that age when they died —or I just never grew up …. perhaps it is some kind of a form of autism linked with my being dyslexic and my other peculiarities ….
My mother used to tell me how she talked to the walls. She told me that is how she spoke to her late mother; my grandmother. She saw the film Shirley Valentine…. I guess that is what the character did, so my mother embraced the concept…. for me I don’t even bother with walls; I talk to her because she has never left my brain and on hikes she comments constantly —I “should paint that landscape there….do paintings of those sweet cows over there—oh no, they are bulls!” and “….why have I never done more serious oils…. “
Today we talked about war. She reminded of how it was for her growing up ….the Nazis ….she said the air felt like how it felt today as we walked ….
Oh…. I saw a red fox ….
….I have been afraid in my life
it just happened to me and I can say ….I am left to wonder …. what have we learned as a species?
this version of human has not evolved because they keep doing the same stupid things and nobody does anything to stop it
…. so as I reach closer to the age my mother was when she died
and the other person who was my natural father …. life has always looked unlike how others have —taken their holiday photos— for me ….
I think I am meant to observe
always through the glass
nose pressed …. from the outside
looking in
do you hear how people talk ….they need to do more action and shut up
*********
And these are the thoughts on my mind as Jörn drives and only after a long moment has passed do I say,
“where are we going?”
but he does not say
….well, you can smell the sea
It only now occurs to me that it has been so very long since I was near the sea ….it has always been a part of me and I suppose I find it reassuring to be near it
this I think about as as he drives
“Did you fly through Baltimore-Washington Airport?” I turn to look at him because, still, he does not answer me
“I did not fly….” he smiles at me and makes a gesture with his head at me to look
Only now do I realize he has pulled past the entrance of a marina
****
We get out and walk the pier
But what do I know of yachts?
“Is this a forty foot?” I ask (as if I know; I heard someone say it recently)
“I’m metric,” he laughs at me and points to the edge of it
“What am I looking at?”
And laughs at me again,
“that’s where you step on,” he says
