dear dictionary of codes,
because there is comfort in the past ....
I seek it now
and upon reflection recollect how I always look to history during my trials
When I first began to research my alleged father’s background it had such a colorful and illustrious past through the pages of history, and this is where I first began my thoughts upon DNA memory theory— because, you see,
I have always been on the move; I seem always to be fleeing .... and, as well, my mother and her mother and father —and his mother from Russia (from Minsk)
but what about the father’s side....
?
The notorious playboy politician who was the vanguard to a huge change among social awareness and equality. When I first heard of who he was —i remember this day clearly; it was in the kitchen in Amsterdam when she first began her history lessons to me about who he was. When she told me all about this it was like some wild story from a romance novel. Her artist life in New York and then she just bumps into him at some party in Greenwich Villege.
Her stories were always so elaborate. Her photos stunning. My mother was quite a show stopper; blond, beautiful, a perfect figure and she knew how to dress. She was iconic....
a real mommy dearest
I remember watching her leave for an evening out from the crack of my bedroom door as a girl.
To me, she was a movie star....truly was bigger than life....
as I have already stated;
I loved her more than I should have
but then—I wanted —always— to save her
So imagine this man of power she caught the eye of — it is really no surprise to me.
Because my mother was the type who always got the most dangerous and the most powerful man in the room eating out of her hand. No one could resist her charm and charisma;and while she was a wild flirt she always ‘acted’ the perfect lady
But what of this notorious playboy beyond the recent decades if you consider and go back centuries
What hemisphere did his name’s lineage begin? This is never researched in connection to this man but I began a search of my own. It lead me to Jamestown and then I stumbled on a registry listing of some boy stowaway from the sixteenth century shipped out from Wales
I took it further and traced names close to or possibly alias names as the politics of those times had me noting the possibility of secret loyalties of the Crown; the religious politics and this reoccurring theme of religion and political defiance but seeming always to be spawned when faced with a life changing religious experience
Each generation I traced the people always seemed to fit these character traits
But also their other trait that is the yang to the yin that their defeat was always due to some sense of hot pride; pride cometh before the fall
Like I have said, I recognized this trait in him as in myself .... when one becomes their own worst enemy and destroys oneself with spite
a kind of insanity —almost like a Tourette Syndrome —like a compulsive self-destruction and taking everyone down with you..... in the psychological sense
It makes you wonder
how maybe just a little more reflection
could alter the outcome of people’s history
So I do....In these times of trials. You see— something has happened .... something very ugly.... that has triggered ....a flood
& memories .....
because this ‘something’ that happened only confirms all the rest I was never totally sure .... of
And now confirms also.... that you know some people that you knew as children .... yes, they really were born evil
it is a “something” too, that happened, to make me aware how absolute Electra’s dictionary has been ..... for my survival
The story tells the codes.... read the codes
And legend story comes from somewhere else beyond me.
The ‘legend’ is also the path back where all the puzzle pieces blew away ....as we sunk under the morass
I hear the thump and I jump staring outside the window
“Who’s out there?”
I don’t expect his voice
you know how it looks inside a kaleidoscope ....? If you went inside one and watched all the pieces fall down
that is how it looked when all the fragments flew away.... and even the knight walked away
his voice that is deep and dry makes the pieces rearrange
The look on his face causes me to feel concern hinged with another cause for concern that results with a terror.
I think I am starting
to disintegrate .... melting like the wicked witch
“Tell me who is threatening you,” he finally asks me
The new place we are at echoes because there is almost nothing in it. Just an old Victorian antique bed and some tables
“I can’t —say,” I say this stammering
“You don’t have to, it is pretty obvious,” he says as he studies me. He then says, “what I want to know is how....? Is it with blackmail?”
This question causes me to hyperventilate but not because he’s right. He isn’t right. It is because to answer this question would be like resurecting Satan
