Electra’s dictionary; my guide through hell (jmmusechron)

I have been so shattered. I don’t know where my head has been since…. since ….so, normally I’d think it interesting that my neighbor —who I join in the horse stable to brush down horses with —is also a writer (and screenplay editor)

And as we brush horses, we talk lightly. For I seem unable to access …. my ….self…. I feel mostly a zombie and so cold ….inside ….I am so cold inside 

But somehow, I do not know how, but between her and her husband, they convince me to do things before I realize what I say —because, later in the week, I find myself with her, walking through, again —the nearby historic town of Chestertown and ….finding myself actually charmed ….

is it that I find comfort in the evidence of historical past…. or is the comfort because it vaguely reminds me of Holland with its connection to an historical past, with its medieval buildings lining the streets …. and so, is it for the false comfort of that sense (illusion) of (false) stability ….or just my belief it is evidence of humanity?

Mary talks to me of her published book as we walk the ancient brick street that are awkward and uneven from hundreds of years of shifting…. 

and so it turns out she studied at the Lee Stasberg school in New York …. uncanny! …. I studied at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York and at HB Studio in New York…. We have both been moving around the country and while I spent years in Michigan, she was across the lake in Chicago ….and the oddest sense I feel like I know her husband from some foggy forgotten time 

So what am I writing about? As my mind flew out the window as she drove…. she kept trying to inspire me with ideas (like trying to revive a corpse I feel)

“you need to write and sell it—then you can get a lovely little place in Chestertown….”

I felt as if cotton wool was over my ears and emotions ….last year….? 

I’d have agreed with her ….

and yet I find I think of Jörn …. for the first time

….and later again and again ….like a sleeping dragon who dreams, 

and dreams it feels things ….and then dreams to hide ….and then things seem to ….begin to ….seep through a little 

you know….

since he left on the last mission —it feels like a lifetime ago

and now for the first time in weeks

 I let myself go to thoughts I’ve avoided and ….

I think of Jörn ….

 

with a kind of shock it occurs to me that, for now, it does seem the sun continues to conspire with the earth to keep us on track. so stunned am I to see the first withered leaf and the scent clung to the dampness of the air

the world continues to spin

but its warmth evades me ….oh for that vampire waltz embrace now, on the flight of his winged feet

 This is so hard. I am so sad. It feels surreal to think he is gone now. Nothing will ever be the same

 

Goodbye, Mark, my big bro

He was in my study hall class my first year of high school. It was a Wednesday, that first day of school and study hall was my first class in high school.

I picked the only vacant seat. I sat down to study the schedule that I had handed to me by the study hall teacher. It was confusing. There were four columns; ABCD. Four days to stand for the days of the week. Wednesday would always be the day they let the students out early so the faculty could having meetings and every class was shortened by fifteen minutes 

Wednesday the first day of school was an A day. Thursday would be B day this week and Friday C day, which meant that the following week would begin with D day. 

First hour A day study hall…. ground floor, room 104

Second hour….Earth Science room 303….third floor 

Third hour—French, room 103, first floor….fourth hour English Lit, 302, third floor….

“Where’s your locker? You look lost,” he said

I look up at the student to my right. Bright blue/green eyes and massive curly golden brown hair and unruly lashes 

“I’m Mark, by the way,” he said “you look like a ‘real’ person,” and we became instant best friends 

I believe in

 what we as the Celf creates, may be more real than anything else 

 There is an awareness that I am aware I have reached a level of evolvement this past week. 

And how it will shape how I write these following pages will begin a direction towards a somewhere else it feels

no delusions 

Now must I mark the page to mark the passing of my high school best friend, Mark, he was there at the formation, tot ziens, ik hou van je altijd

 and then there was Jörn 

I say I don’t want attention

then I say I want to be seen. do I contradict myself. a long time ago, a psychic had told me that one day I would be seen and appreciated for my true self, a transforming love. she said I would write something and that as the only way 

I didn’t believe in her nonsense but it haunted me 

Dictionary ….between lines

Yes I have known joy 

for Jörn I am grateful 

I am grateful for having known the joy of his absolute love and loyalty 

and to know that I do not walk alone and 

I never thought I could say this about anyone. It has been so long since I ….knew what it felt like —even if he is far away on a mission