the return of gamine

 

the freedom of hacking off pandemic hair— 

  shackles of weight released; like some rediscovery of artifacts found at an archeological excavation, long lost in antiquity

  so it begins again….  

        with this electra; reinvented 

searching….electra

 

Stepping back as the projectors eye 

I have thought over and over again lately why; what is this I so madly work at; like some marble sculpture that I never stop refining as it grows like vines new insights and it often feels like I am this student letting my story guide me as they come to me through those strange currencies ….does this babble help me figure it all out? I don’t think it was ever a choice to be this dharma philosopher caught up in this saga 

it just keeps ….evolving, going, and this won’t let me go, and look at me and the lengths it’s physically driven me to…. and all for…..this need to …. 

and just searching —in search of answers to the meaning of life, invested years of my life searching, writing, researching and ….still I want to know more —when I’m ‘supposed’ to be slowing down—as if? but I can’t —why does it chase me to keep at it, it is so a part of me I wonder…. and of which I am so entangled in. and maybe it is just that. (the lost Celf in search of the meaning of ‘Self’?)

 it is me and I am it and without it. I never was ….but no—it never really was about me, not as the body of its meaning, just the apparatus to perform this mad life I live ….it was always about ….meaning ….but no, it is even more than this too because it chases me, like I am its slave to ….create this or —no, it feels it is more I am merely its messenger and so what then is the message? humanity ….oh—so would you say it’s the eleventh hour? like I have any voice to speak (talk about voice, mermaid ….) and did our Greek masters think they needed to voice ….? (but I’m nobody, a mute mermaid) (shut tf up, do I care what anyone thinks anymore knowing the stupid things they think about?)(Don’t judge,bitch)

—should I question why? yes—because if I expect to sell it it requires me to question but to sell it requires to forget why and sell it to the lowest common denominator. should I judge? well, the Vikings would not require me to whore —why question why ….because I’m like some mad scientist riding a blind horse at full speed with no reigns I sometimes think—and purely because it feels “it must be” 

 

sometimes it happens upon waking, an elusive sense of…. having been with; other times ….it is the sense of a presence as close as a whisper 

sick and tired of everything; notes à un étranger*

 

somewhere in the crowd 

tente ta chance

that’s all I ask of you honey.                 d.

*that’s been decoded🔍🦇

 throwing myself into script as it gets me out of here e.d., adjusting location —it actually makes better sense in Stockholm…. but first it opens in Amsterdam —now so much adjusting 

I have met my destiny in quite a similar way; Noir/a short

Still standing in the hallway 

he says,

“we have a little time before they get here.”

I must have missed his meaning, my mind caught up in the spy games and ….the smörgås 

“Jörn,” I say now, hesitating over exactly what we are playing at, “we are —for the benefit of your parents—pretending we are ok —which right there is loaded with oxymorons and— the spy convention part, what do you want me to do? not sure, where do I come in there?—pass out party favors, is that my role? but I know —I think ….with Stina —why do you what me to be pretending I’m— pretending…. what am I pretending?—no don’t tell me, I know this one… uhhh—hmmm. No—I actually have no idea what —or actually why either so….?”

He hushes me and pulls me from the hallway looking around, ducking past a doorway as we hear Stina’s voice echoing down the hall followed by her shrill laugh 

“Look, first, erm—about my agent status —Mama thinks —or was lead to believe…. I mean—that—” he starts to say something somewhat awkwardly but stops abruptly changing his mind 

“She doesn’t know what—?” only I forget to ask because it only now occurs to me to wonder where we are standing, “Jörn—what is this?” I ask him in a whisper looking around as their voices are now right outside 

“It’s the linen closet,” he tells me in a low voice, but then after a moment the voices fade down the opposite direction and casually with a shrug he says in a low voice, “she’s with Marcus; he’s her director—among other things….”

And after their voices disappear, I sigh with relief and reach for the door knob, but he stops me,

“In a hurry?” 

“A hurry?” I repeat

“We have some time, Hello Kitty….”

4th Edit— backstory analysis dissecting the freud complex in regards to explaining the purpose of Greta and why in a personality ‘contradiction’ (first broad attempt)

~my asides to delete later~

as I explaine/define why I choose to focus on hidden issues within aspects of identity and sexuality as the role of this subconscious conflict  

so in one layer of identity is the confusion of rights/existence/self—but of course there was and remains another issue of self and identity. with Freud he offered me an intellectual insight —for all the attacks of criticism he gets; I have to disagree because I recognized everything; how he explains the Oedipal/Electra complexes saved my life when I was first studying psychology many years ago. I researched him vastly as his words offered the first clues to my inner and most awkward confusions that I just never could tell anyone about …. 

 what does someone do with all this poison; it has consumed me for so long and I know it will kill me; I need to get it out of me and put it into something like art; like hope…. maybe even to be a beacon as it cannot be all for no purpose 

….this confusion over gender that as well—this ….too, as I have written here; it was connected to my sister’s twisted nature in other areas; to tell anyone; to ask anyone about this….? But worse —really, for a child, to ask what is wrong with me? nobody talked about such things and …. gender…. girl or boy….? what it says on the birth record is what you are so….

so what does that mean when the little Hitler in training shares the childhood bedroom and nursery with you? every night and every morning, 

things like 

“something happened —you were supposed to be a boy and they don’t like to talk about it but —you’re not a real girl but nobody says….I won’t tell our friends but now you have to give me all your Christmas candy!”

a normal little girl?

I know how insane it sounds to adult knowledge. But then, I know from studying for my degree there have been such cases and are such cases and more than we realize in many different umbrella spectrums of this —which I suppose has always existed in our species but our current culture is only now having it blasted with this revelation— often and more often than not— an individual may not have the text book outline of characteristics of their gender ….she —my sister, for instance…. cited that as proof I was really a boy, why did I like toy cars more than dolls?—and why did I want to only play with boys and be a cowboy (and play with toy guns which I only got to do over at my boy-friends houses). to a child her reasoning terrified me. yes, I liked boys and and emulated them and I loved their gadget toys and did not like dolls at all nor girls nor their stupid games….and this is the link connected crux, somehow; no I did not want to marry daddy ever; did not want to be reduced to whore as I suppose I thought he treated her; my mother….as and I cared for her, I idolized her and worshipped her….mother—dear electra, 

so…. to say as mirror 

    this is ….or….

would be to —examine roles; the acceptance he offers her without having to say a word; to be released….ultimately, in theory—to heal so…. it is an experiment of what can be said when the gender roles are reversed —but not to perversion;

 this idea of a character …. ‘he’s a man who is comfortable and able to be both masculine and feminine’ without the requirement to denounce his masculinity 

which—is the opposite of ….well, what Electra was able to be behind the screen of her mythologies and legends 

to examine in order to set up the explanation of purpose of ….how, in one way, a rejection from the father and the confusion of self’s gender gets inverted into your personal sexuality; so of course my personal appetite would have been formed into something rather near impossible to find —in satisfying— these particular emotional and sexual aspects…. to work realistically in finding anyone; with the majority of possible partners in society, to fill this kind of role?— near impossible