Electra’s dictionary and film noir; smörgås dreams

 

He comes to me in dream …. that tenuous grasping of an energy through the currency. 

it comes in waves, even as sounds are muffled and my senses are confused or ….are they dulled? only, I get such a sense that he is—with me— somehow;

or so it does seem only this thought gets mixed up with a seeming unrelated sound of a helicopter and the smell of the sea…. even as I had been dreaming of a lovely winter’s lake that was frozen with a dove flying in the distance, and through the mist came a man on a white horse …. and the distinct scent of citrus-ginger and leather, like Boss cologne as I seem to be lifted and weightless

And because my eye lids feel too heavy from whatever that strange smell was and the bump before that…. I can’t seem to connect thoughts 

And perhaps it is later when I hear a high pitched operatic voice bouncing off some wall in the distance with a cello, piano and violin in the background but again fall into a thick cloud of strange dreams. 

Strange dreams indeed, because now as I become aware that I am awake and look around, I still think I am dreaming. Because I know the scene well. But it does not fit my present. Of what I thought my present was. Is. Is?

The door ajar. Sounds carry. Loud sounds. 

First loud. Then soft. Then loud. Very loud. Too loud. It’s annoying. It’s a tv commercial. Then it’s something else—a movie, I know the voices —or—

It gets too loud!

But then I hear a very strangely familiar voice shriek,

“om du inte slutar använda din nya hörapparat för att styra tv-volymen så tar jag den där stora hammaren och det kommer att vara slutet på din nya leksak, jag lovar dig att Josef!”

 I think this time maybe you hurt me too deep 

 

e.d. Noir

And so I think 

What I most liked about him was not his typical Nordic characteristics, it is a funny thing because I had not thought to consider this somehow till now ….not the pretty nose, nor the baby blue eyes you commonly see—and why do I think of Jörn now when it feels as if I walk the plank ….of life….to jump into the deep watery depths of foul play that is the story of my life ….I think of Jörn with his slanted vampire eyes, ageless and tattooed on my soul with all the changing colors of the sky and with it all the moods ….how is it I still can long for him ….I wonder ….my vampire is not a pretty boy unless ….he’s in that mood 

Whatever made me think such random thoughts? ….strange…. I think —until …. I realize …..

It seems….ohhhh ….I start to lose consciousness ….even as I hear ….as though after; delayed —the sound of something hitting….. that— I realize, was the impact of something hitting my head from behind 

and all goes black 

     right before my hand slams down and randomly turns on the Volvo excavator ….

Electra’s dictionary & film noir (jmmusechron2continue)

Those moments move in slow mo as we are stopped and nothing happens….I watch the hands on my watch move as my thoughts go madly and wildly in circles; dangling between logic and panic

And I brood inwardly with anxiety, fingers at the ready to start the Volvo engine

and poised there in mid space my mind disengages from my physical moment ….and sink into deep space thought….

And I start to think about how different life is without all those people who are now gone. When you have no one left, you look at life differently

I reevaluate purpose whilst in a semi trapped   and contained 

and when you are no one to anyone and you have no one, the fears of abandonment are long realized so…. behind the anxiety itself comes the sheer panic having to be contained and knowing nobody is there to care to look for you 

and suffocate ….in a container 

when I loath being contained at all

has kept me in this hirghtened state of terror mixed with panic because I am used to flight and running for freedom 

I have not been able to; instead trapped …. I look at the interior walls and …. my body wants to jump out of my fucking skin 

I hate being contained. I need space. I need freedom. I need to walk and pace and do physical things and …. this place is driving me crazy ….and the fear is …. what if nobody ever finds me…..?

Electra’s dictionary & film noir; And the reemergence of arch enemies

 

We must have reached some kind of rest area for trucks, I think, for I feel us slow down and drive past other loud motors. I start to nervously play with the excavator’s functions as I crash course attempt to teach myself how to turn an excavator on (pun not intended) whilst I feel us slowing to a stop to park

My fingers shake as I try to focus on what’s in front of me, silently telling myself that the plan was to somehow go Terminator on who ever I was being held captive by—-and why don’t I remember the moments before it happened ….? Although, I suspect strongly I had to have been hiking locally….so, how many semis do I see tearing through the dirt roads? Quite a lot, come to think of it ….

and wait—yes….it was ….a loud semi —I remember now, and I moved towards the ditch to let it pass me, and ….someone must have jumped out of the back of the truck as it was about to pass me —because I saw a flash of bright blue and red nylon; the kind of accent detail you see on athletic track suit clothes, as it seems, yes, now I remember —there had been a very sickening kind of taste —or smell ….just before things flatlined in my awareness and …..then I—awoke in here…..

I feel a jolt. 

Oh my god. 

It’s working! I feel the excavator spasm awake but just at the exact moment I hear the universal sound of a mobile ringtone….!

I reverse what I just did on the excavator so it shuts down quietly as the mobil alert drowns out any noise before the call is answered 

“Yes, everything is on plan, not one hitch….” I hear the voice of the driver

And it is now that I recognize the person’s voice as belonging to Deiter

Electra’s dictionary; locked in prisms

 

~the truck interior container scene continues~

When there is mostly dim shadow and nothing to look out at, thoughts always seem to go inward, especially without the distraction of a mobil device 

….and so I think over and over about the day’s details for possible missed clues and when I have exhausted these thoughts of any possible enlightenment 

defeated, I think about the larger picture ….of my life

….and to say ‘larger picture’ seems like an extreme exaggeration 

So in this dim darkness going inward, I ask myself those tough questions —those reflecting upon life questions but then, really that is nothing new so I think suddenly …..no, none of those questions ever tell me anything and in the event I am out of time because of whatever fate awaits me when the truck stops …. what is it that I think really really matters in life and in the world ….. and thoughts arrive with a most simple answer ….love….and so I think of my daughter 

And in the dimness of the truck interior I look out into the shadows. And I think, why am I so far away from her? Even as I know why; these years…. 

and it seems as if I feel like how I used to imagine it felt to be the lady the magician saws apart ….

like I feel I am all apart; all in pieces ….not whole 

and…. I think of love ….that other kind of love ….and it seems it has taken me all my life to arrive at the obvious conclusion to what really really matters ….and what I have somehow never allowed myself …. but somehow, it seems I cannot let myself put it off anymore because it occurs to me at this very moment …. how desperately I need it ….god willing it is not too late

(a tiny short) Electras dictionary & film noir/intersection towards a somewhere (jmmusechron)

I seem to forget what I do for hours as I stare into the dimness of the truck interior listening to the hum of the wheels as they spin

It is when I start to become lulled back into a daze from the motion of the truck that my mind starts to relax and I think for awhile I might have fallen asleep.

Until somehow something awakens my awareness. Perhaps hours passed because there is a sense that …. it is much later and yet I feel rather well rested; my thoughts almost clearer than they have ever been ….with a feeling of heaviness about life and time 

I reach to touch the stud in my ear ….it is the one Jörn gave me ….when he said that as long as I wore this he would always be able to find me 

it was that day in the silo …. And now I feel that old familiar ….rush