upon some paths today

 

happened upon some deer in a nearby field before the rest of herd took off

 

How my dna memory theory ties to my dictionary; Electra’s dictionary

 

When I was first researching the man who was my illegitimate father, for the longest time, all I ever knew at first about him was what I could find mentioned in history books and periodicals; his political career overshadowed sadly by how the press slammed him and how the government dubbed him intensely as notorious and how he has so often been extremely, and intricately maliciously documented 

But I knew also of his work before he went into politics, his work as a leader in his community as a reverend and later, his well known speeches that laid the groundwork for labor laws and workers rights, what he did in congress; his speeches can still be found all over YouTube and the internet. Of course I knew that he was the forefather of the civil rights movement

But I never suspected the dark roots went beyond his notoriety  never thought there could be much more worth looking into beyond the early struggles of his father’s early life as a young man struggling to find his own way. A way that…. lead back from the tobacco plantation of Virginia; a half breed whose mother was a Cherokee squaw concubine of a decorated confederate general whose father was a powerful plantation owner and slave owner. The general died on the battlefield and the pregnant squaw was tossed but was taken in by the man who became his step father and married the squaw and was by then a freed slave who brought him up as his own among the sons and daughters who later came to the freed slave and squaw

When the man I refer to here as Ethan Rhys-Jones had reached the height of his success in congress, those southern roots found him and, according to what he wrote in his auto biography, had been approached to visit the historical site that had been his family lineage by someone in the city’s political seat. They had wanted to celebrate an historical 

date and have him publicly appear. He had replied simply “no thanks, I have no wish to ever step foot on that plaque of land.”

I’d always sensed there was some mystery within my blood. Some strange attraction to things I could have had no knowledge of but innately have always felt just as I had felt about Native American things.

So one day recently, around when I had Covid in 2020, I got curious and it was soon after my dna test results came that I decided to do some of my own detective work wondering what might be found in public records. I started with the gravesite which I’d found in an old photograph and it lead me on a shocking path first to the founding of the colonization of Virginia and all the way back over the ocean to King James and on and on the name traced further and deeper, connecting like dots of a tapestry puzzle and all connected to political powers and historical aristocracy going as far back to the Franks and the Normans of Brittany

My fascination with dna memory theory all come from things along this path that has lead me through my story ….I believe I am made of all things and contain all peoples 

a nobody’s reign

 

Besides the Greeks and ancient history, I am fascinated by the Renaissance and medieval history; particularly the people who have shaped western literature and culture 

Chaucer’s sister-in-law was Katherine Swynford, who was the mistress of John of Gaunt; and of their illegitimate line came Henry VIII

It is not the crowns and the powers and the glories I am drawn to dig through in my personal studies

It is the frailties of the people that lure me in—that an unassuming peasant girl from Belgium, reared in a nunnery ….could turn the head of someone who had then been the most powerful man of those times and then bear the illegitimate lineage that would one day change the future course of a foreign nation and challenge the Vatican itself 

It is this …. I spend hours in wistful thoughts within my cells ….I cling to

why? 

We forget what power each and everyone of us have if we are willing to take that high flung risk of chance 

a nobody peasant girl from nowhere whose bloodline became majestic and somehow still flows on

App life

the surreality of 2022 shoots splinters of ice to turn flesh to ribbons 

is it a dare or a roulette game,

wishing to escape and I suppose that last ditch desire to force myself to be convinced otherwise 

later….get a message; half my age, “hey beautiful—I know you don’t know me, but why don’t you come over and we can change that. Are you interested in some all night fun?”

App/a/thetic….left or right

Peux tu voir?

 à quel point elle se cache dans la fiction pour enterrer tous les aveux de ses peurs réelles

Driving DC noir (jmmusechroncontinues)

 

I head down the corridor, ignoring that feeling of deception I cannot get rid of in my gut…. 

And walk to the elevator which I’d not seen before when I’d gone up the stairs from the street. I realize now why Jörn said to go this way for when I get out, alone —as the building seems to be empty of nearly everyone, save a few walking towards the exits—that, these doors lead out the opposite side of the building and I am now standing facing another street, not looking in the direction of the water. It is a few minutes I am standing there and begin to worry as I look around watching delivery vans go by. The others who leave the building hardly seem to notice me.

I get a chill as I stand there waiting and consider if maybe perhaps I had better order an actual Uber but I am too worried to, thinking something might have happened to Jörn. 

I walk down to the corner and look down the next street and reach inside my bag for my phone, but suddenly I see the white Volvo peeling down the street and as it swerves, it comes to a screeching stop. The passenger door swings open,

“Get in!” he says

And it is the urgency in his command which I don’t bother to question and then, I am hardly in the seat with the door not even closed when he accelerates at full speed down the narrow street

“Fuck! What’s going on?” I grab onto the dashboard by the glove compartment 

“Put your seatbelt on, we have to get to DC!” he shouts as he looks at me, “we have a problem—!”

And as I turn to look behind us, I see a delivery van is not far behind, much too close, in fact!—also driving at full speed….

“Get down!” Jörn shoves my head down as the windshield shatters with a round of popping sounds and, delayed, it occurs to me —we’re being shot at

    

Electra’s dictionary pulp noir/ Dr. Evans’ office visit part 3 (jmmusechroncontinues)

 

The momentary confusion that I feel in coming out of the hypnosis that I realize had been prompted ….by design…. from the old recording of Dr.Rothschild’s that she had obviously kept ….now sends, in a flurry of thoughts 

that sense of feeling cornered ….

and from that triggered thought I find I land upon others ….such as

I have gone from that sense of being stranded and living in one prison —the underground bunker in the Adirondaks ….to that other prison —of my high school stalker and do now find myself forced to live out yet another sentence as where I find myself as the companion/groundskeeper of a supposed retired spy but forced to report back as his spy because …..why? this part has me rather stupefied as I sit there in that foggy aftermath of that blankness which comes when you know your brain has been prodded whilst under some form of a tranquilizer —how induced, I am not fully sure

befuddled ….I look up at Jörn assuming, he is why I feel this way

 ….as I watch him…. peeling off fake press-on manicured nails 

I hear the sound of them hitting the porcelain sink of the lavatory as he has left the door open and from the psychiatrist’s couch I am still sitting on, I have a perfect view of the lavatory’s interior 

I feel entranced to watch him; perhaps it is the after-affects of the hypnosis ….so…. fascinating really ….he’s so methodically professional —now as I watch him removing his make-up. The glasses now removed, does one eye at a time; he uses some sort of white cream, so fastidiously neat and orderly, almost like a surgeon, so careful and practiced. And then it is the lipstick, off it comes, leaving not even a stain of any residue; then washes his face with a foaming cleaner, scrubbing up to his hairline and then the hair itself; under the faucet, washes out the setting and then in a blink, it is tightly tied back…. he is himself again completely transformed before my very eyes!

I get up and walk to the lavatory doorway,

“Jörn, what is going on?”

“Not here,” he whispers and presses an index finger to his mouth and implores me with his eyes but looks at the time of his watch which he now reaches for from inside a gym bag which had been stowed in a cabinet under the sink, “although, I think everyone has gone,” he says, as he puts the watch on his wrist and deftly secures it as he moves back into the psychiatrist’s office from the lavatory to open the door a crack that leads back out to the main office and listens 

“Yes, Melina has left—she’s always the last to go,” he tells me

I realize she was the receptionist behind the sliding glass from before

“Are you —like—working here?” I ask

He looks at me conspiringly as he shuts the door again,

“Candy Bergen is Dr. Evans assistant —until ….her return from the UK—she’s guest lecturing at the university discussing theories and how it links to archeological evidence—“

“What!?”

Jörn studies me through narrowed eyes and then shakes his head,

“let’s go,” he says and points back to the lavatory, “you go through to the other door —it leads to the office building’s corridor which leads to the elevator. Go downstairs to the ground floor and if you see anyone on the way out, and if they ask —say you are waiting for an Uber ride.”

“Where are you—“ I start to say, but as I watch what he does I realize the answer as he takes the gym-bag, now containing all of Candy Bergen’s disguise, and now fully changed into blue jeans and a gray and white pinstriped t-shirt and gym shoes as he climbs on the counter of the sink to the window above 

“Oh my god, what are you doing?!” I ask him, “are you jumping or do you think you’re Spider-Man and going to scale the wall?”

He holds back a laugh and says into my ear,

“there’s a fire-escape on the other side of this wall,” and before I can respond to this, he kisses my neck behind my ear and bites my ear lobe as he says, “I’ve parked down the alley, look for a white Volvo, it’ll have an Uber sign,” then leaves a wet trail with his tongue right before he jumps out the window 

“Shit….” I say a bit dazed to the empty room as I stare at the window