always from the frying pan to the fire 

it is during a moment when I start to fall apart ….I think of how he has often told me he is proud of me for being strong ….and I find strength 

e.d.&id&dic

dictionary….perhaps VW suggested in A Room of One’s Own the artist’s need for creative space by giving her a room and yet it is more than just the physical space in which to write 

there must also be the freedom to think your own thoughts privately 

the constant invasion forces all glimpses of wonder 

to hide dormant lest it be trod more thoroughly upon 

E.d.&Film noir/jmmusechrontinyteaser

 And when I am brave enough to face Jörn’s living room who would I expect to give the warmest greeting?

“So nice of you to drop in and rejoin the party!”it is Elsa of course 

 so incredibly grateful to not be in so many previous places. on this holiday. that I now hate. the worst was 2017 that I spent in Oregon hiding in someone’s closet to avoid the guy living there who broke my nose.who happens to be my cousin. …. this is a better one, skål 

merci

 mor ddiolchgar am Persephone

of spies & codes

 ….and as my thoughts wander they go to him, and what I know of him is that he would never say if something were the matter.he would give the impression of having his world in control.he would not tell me.he cannot be weak;what he thinks is weak;to show it….especially to me.never.but it is what you do after you recover from your moments of weakness that are what count.but —if it is his pride, then his war is within ….and myself be silent; because, as always, I know he will emerge more powerful in his contrition.yet,id never waver

 Ik verlang naar huis

 the years of her exile.the forms of prisons are not always of a physical incarceration kind 

alas electra

 it occurs to me as I am sat on tender hooks brooding —my thoughts travel back to reflect….I’ve not wasted my time, I realize—since I left Berkley Michigan in 2017 because I realize would have been waiting all this time for Persephone and not living a life….yes I have been running like mad but —not blindly at all;I’ve come far 

 There will be more story opera —the direction depends on ….something here

my phone has tracked me for walking over twelve miles today, wonder how much of that was just pacing?

prototypes

onward we go and travel past anything that ever mattered, like how you watch the waters of Lethe as you view from above. 

they flow down with the rush of water and dissolve; the lost celves that just ….were not good enough and test ourcelves with the blade to not flinch at all when it bites you

i just wanted to be seen.i’d so believed

 i shall miss you

where have you gone….my most devoted? no longer do you stop here

i start to believe that all this has been a metamorphosis ….after the same penance again and again 

the lesson which was always to be learned, while applied to the task with pure of soul —had never been experienced 

….with the whole of myself 

passing thoughts

 when I was a girl and was interested in educating myself a little more about things like what men like to do with women —I remember I got the best information from this one unlikely book. it is significant but perhaps funny as an anecdote about me. 

I came about it from a girl in my class at the American School of The Hague. French class, she slipped it to me right under Ms Bartoff’s pointed wicked nose —ironically ….

and so that summer was what followed this book. should I say the title? no, I don’t think so, it’s just too….it’s a romance novel you see ….so anyway it was called Sweet Savage Love —I seemed caught most on the savage word and that was just the start of my awakening 

but no, anyway — I adored this writer’s style and I was 13 and to be honest, one of the best in the genre as she uses four syllable words. Despite the trash reputation it was the gateway to Anaïs Nin, of course, and I should mention Colette as she figured prominently too; later more for the poet sense there was Vita and her Orlando and the mysteries of the Bloomsbury Set; to be among them ….and my highly imaginative neurotic-a mind ….

I only thought this just now because it was for one silly, dumb sentimental reason. The author dedicated the novel to C.E.

I was 13. For years I imagined this mysterious man who was C.E. convinced it really was the protagonist and I just wanted him to be real. To her. I guess.

 Lit nerdy girls are weird ….of course I found out who it was. And there was a story there actually. Just not as good as mine, sadly. 

I have known some soul sucking jobs. lately I don’t know who I am. or who I had to become. you don’t think about how much you will have to give up. but then…. I was not in a position to bargain. who I had to become. you know, I do know how to do what I have to do to survive. I know how to turn the mind off. how to exist like a machine. how not to feel. it is only that after time the exhaustion breaks you down and ….I think that is what I am coming out of—the ptsd is the term for—raw emotions that blast you with no warning ….and it is sheer white terror 

no you don’t count on the reengaging back to time and ….time has shown us a world we have become a stranger to as the world has become …. So.Strange.

 electra….it comes in the economy size. 80 proof. at the bottom it all looks so clear….to Kerouac 

scrying

 map and legend updates 

 how will the world decide to reinvent itself from here. i want to watch before I make a move

but i do know, i never could have made it through…. if not for you.you have always been there for me 

 it is the purging i have been long from.and as I go deep sea dives within the celves ….looking back on recent timelines to consider choices…. the Adirondaks should have been my sanctuary had not the pandemic hit just upon arrival. and then having covid long before anyone knew what to do. terrified there in the middle of snowstorms, stranded, alone there among strange strangers who never came out to say hello ….yes, the pin ball is done 

thoughts begin to flow…..

and again find— I am myself ….and I watch the gate as the celves find spirit and soul ….whatever my voice, though it be a whisper, it Must Be

and realize only now, it’s as though i've been everybody’s pinball; hindsight20/20; and so, upon pressing reset it occurs to me.i have been in reactionary mode.

i can stop the merry-go-round. now

earlier today, it seemed, I catch the scent of the air of Holland ….it came from no where; how powerful a scent is 

how fast it caused me to shatter into tears

ceiling thoughts

centering….a few days off to find myself and keep everyone the fuck away…. thoughts seem to actually crystallize as I reflect 

so, the longest relationship I had was with ex Chris from 2003 until 2015. And what is strange is that he is from generation X and after so many years of Nintendo and being his twin among his pals with the fist greetings upon entering ….I don’t fit with my generation anymore. they bore the fuck out of me and they can’t keep up with me …. 

purpose —why am I here….sometimes as spirit it seems I feel so much of everything —and everyone around me 

but anyway, what did the grunge generation think?

we were so naive ….but then ….what —the fuck—if…. anyway? I mean, hey, today I got mistaken for a high school kid by a sheriff as I was walking—so, I guess maybe youth is in the beholder or I am a charmed fairy after all 

it seems, as usual, my mood seems to reflect the mood of the world…. I sense a change is in the air

finding reset

 and as I have washed away the mud and blood from the chain mail I find I can again take its weight and fits again anew like a second skin 

 but, please don’t turn out to be another fraud 

     i begin to be aware that i am coming out of something. as if the swelling within the cerebral membrane is beginning to go down allowing proper thought to flow as it once ….once had…. do you see the celves go down the drain? they are like colors of artist’s paint that mix in the swirls as they spiral away 

 like those old monks in their cells. you see? 

~more later electra, dearest, between our dog eared chapters~

I do believe I have lived before. but a long time ago. I do not feel I knew this earth since…. but I know I was a healer by strange instincts I have ….yes, to survive….but scents I am drawn to and always just when it is I am deplete ….so, I think the choice was to accomplish what this muffled voice has been choking to speak to a chaotic void 

it is the thrill. 

To just Take Off

that moment when everything I have been doing is boxed, sealed and packed. all I no longer want in my life neatly trashed to be forgotten.

there is nothing more thrilling than the independence high of an open road ahead and feeling the master of your own life

I think that is what I have become addicted to. a blank tablet and the tantalizing possibilities of any possibility 

  & just create another ….celf

that nobody knows 

E.d.Sizerhands, (a short) deflection;Electra’s dictionary

(another aspect and hint about the Electra theme and patterns)

I remember as a child standing by the bedroom door after I got one of the beatings. Of course I did not know about biology or whose I was back then —or what that meant, but ….to me I thought he was my father. So I would wait at the door after each time he hurt me for him to say he was sorry and say that loved me….”

I look up at Jörn as I say this, 

“I thought each time that he intended to just ….throw me away ….so, maybe now you may understand what my anxiety is about….” I don’t say 

He comes up from behind me and leans into me then, drapes his long arms around before he says in a deep whisper into my ear,

“I will never abandon you….” 

https://youtu.be/UKoCj_xU8L0

(don’t you see him as a spy?)

Electra’s dictionary/Invisible Ink;scene continues

 

He says to me,

“I do see you.”

I am by his window looking out. 

The distance between us feels infinite

 it seems

 and the energy it takes for faith far less so 

I don’t believe him. He only shows me what he decides to let me see. And I wonder if then he can only see as much of me as he feels in the mood to bother and try. it makes me wonder who I have been in love with—he gives as much as he is inclined and then he retracts as if everything between us never was and so I am the idiot ….but then that means he too is another fraud…. 

“Duva….”he walks over to me and pulls my face up to look at him taking my chin in his grip, “I am your father figure,” he whispers into my ear

I say,

“no! a father—? someone to raise me up high and be my cheer-leader, daddy, no, you lock me out —you don’t allow me near you—how can you see me?” and move away but he pulls me back as I fight him, “how can you see me when you are pretending and playing your games? I’m not at your disposal—“

“Duva—“

“You don’t see me, you stopped looking.”

“I never stopped,” he says

“You don’t even read my words anymore,” I say

“How would you know?”

but what I wish I could really understand is—what is it he is afraid of….? what I would see if he showed me his whole self —or of how he would feel showing it?

 tiny.pixie.two words wish people would not say to me.iamfuckingmightieDude

11.11angel

tequila remarks seem to come across as good advice, and I think considering the one dispensing, what it does to the brain is worth the delusions 

which —one— is full of shit/or do I seem blonde to you? I liked you better at hello 

the witching hour is calling

what is this madness? this need for flight. such a desire to want to run and never stop.but so tired of running.the knight wants to lay down his sword.only ….we’re caught in this web….the labyrinthine spiral

 

cannot breathe for lack of intelligent life

why do I find the vastness of isolation so suffocating

Between the chapters; more

Terry is one of those science genius types and from the moment I met him I felt like I knew him —already….before? He had waved to me from the distance at first but —I maintained it instead and —I can be quite aloof; but one day he reversed as I was walking up the drive 

Mary was the same, actually, she ambushed me from the road and well, you know I tried to blend with the trees but, there were none around just then and she said,

“I’m impressed how diligently you walk every day….” 

well, there was a moment in my mind of suddenly being trapped in a Jane Austin novel ….two professional who bought the farm

and right at the end of the drive. In fact, they are like the actual gatekeepers as you cannot reach the grounds unless you pass their land and drive upon their drive/road; weirdly but it seems, that they seem to have a desire to adopt me !! which is overwhelmingly sweet. In fact, as I guess —his career in healthcare caused him to remark on my behalf to well —we won’t say ….so—no, perhaps a Dickens novel? Brontë? Anyone? more like Du Maurier, perhaps….so dare I say, breaking out in hives, they have a son who’s about 36 they want me to meet but what is fascinating more is that not only do they know Bard college and are (foolishly) impressed with me —hmm, well, there it is; but that I suspect they have a romantic concept of me seen from the lens of their professional worlds

She is a published author too. I have actually felt as if they may be my fairy god parents appointed by my heavenly angels

 ….she says,

“Oh you must do it!” 

as I blather about a lost dream to create this into …. what ….? a “work” on film

She studied with Lee Strasberg. She has connections with film production crew. Our interest and connections are rather uncanny —and again I have to wonder   

so he is the nerd and clever scientist and ….I suspect if they knew who my real father was they’d …. begin a campaign 

found Waldo

 too drunk to drive though 

page a day/today/chapters between the lines

 

and as I start to prepare to go, I get the strangest impression that nobody here wants me to go 

I have lived so many places ….seven—just in the last five years —joking the other day, what does Terry say to me—I’m Forest Gump!

I say laughing,

“oh you mean, because instead of running, I hike everywhere I go? Oregon, there she is, Michigan, Catskills, Adirondaks and —yo—there she is again in dumbfuckville!”

But “no,” he says, “you are this free spirit artist who doesn’t talk about it you do it—you live your life with all of your passion … like Forrest —and dharma across the continent, I’m envious of you, as a matter of fact,” he tells me 

“Blah blah ….”

at last I start to see —oh, there I am, in the rear-view ….I forgot she was there 

always the water

  

           

Chester Bridge in foreground 

   

the seat of a revolution;autumn beauty

but before I go….

               exploring historical towns of Maryland

And some actual ancestry ….
 

 

(written earlier)

I watch the sun rise through the morning fog as I write this ….what a journey it has been.what the fuck was it all for. for the last five years I have been running away. it is possible to get used to that hysteria. the gears ….spin and spin….so exhausted of it all. so done. with the hysteria.it’s done. no more. no more invasions. no more ass holes no more stab in the back friends….it’s time to crawl back to ….life 

***reflections of a Muse(updated)

foreshadow for a scene….

I know that I have said that I have come to realize that it is actually our proclivities which draw us towards our missions in life 

Those things the religious often requires us to repent 

those are the very things we are called upon to examine

our darkness ….

    because only through it 

    will we ever see the light

 within our darkest truths 

the crux of what defines us

is directly at the source of what we really need 

and who we really are 

the taboo of it would not be so fearful once it is understood why it is there

and does not necessarily require us to remove its power

because not all strong powers are fiercely bad; some strong powers are just fiercely a force to be reckoned with

to be reckoned with

I reckon

 ….and why not with pleasure? as experience is about experience— not only through pain do we grow; there is that fine line between pleasure and pain and I do think for some of us the fascination is the answer to an age old call that roots for release

but we must not forget that, we grow too

when we get to heal

….but there is a hidden riddle in this and yes, it has to do with healing and the soul

and so I then reckon, why must ‘to be reckoned with’ be…. something void of pleasure and serenity once —that is, it is —arrived at serene; only once slaked of the lovers grip; to arrive through experience cannot be an intellectual journey

~only after —in retrospect, do we have that as a memory~

***but some of those very powerful forces to be reckoned with— are actually just the other end of your own magnetic field ….finding its natural attraction, like that compass and —something about what is known as True North