More epiphanies(just a quickie); e.d.&film noir/A deep cleanse(jmmusechron)

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 

but the fox got away

 

 je m'inquiète pour toi

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 ….”

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?

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 

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