dear e.d. …. of course it has been such a horrible time 

but so many other things make up for it …. 

and of course how am I even writing the script? —but then wasn’t it Rowling who was once so desperate she wrote HP all on toilet paper ….I have taken to over exercising to deal with the stress. but am not eating. I am upset all the time here and I get so scary thin, e.d., so just hope I don’t fall apart but you know, I have faith my work is going to pay off, I do believe in it as a work; it’s been all that I am since I can remember

….and I realize lately that as always, the dictionary is guiding me ….because that is how the journey began. I know I need to keep going. it is meant to take its complete form ….I trust it will show me the way 

but if it is about humanity, after all, seen through a philosophical artist’s lens then, I feel it must require an actual poke inside an excavation as odd as maybe it seems— what is this to do with art? but it does as the human story and I would be beyond thrilled to have that happen; 1) for the research 2) for the research (lol) 3) for the credibility of course 4) for the ideas 

I mean I always knew archeology would enter in —as related to the Elan/Raoul story; And even before —my obsession and fascination with bog people,

and it’s all there in the earth, isn’t it? 

a part of the history of a planet but —there is something about the tactile proof of its existence that causes one to feel a connection to their stories in such a personal dimension. But, I have had this feeling a while that —I think I am meant to find something because so—many other things have turned out ….accurate…. these thoughts along with —sitting alone in a room— get me through the tedium of the detail nail biting script writing ….and done on my phone …. while walking the highway for seven miles, and i suppose by now whether I like it or not I am used to living by the seat of my pants…. 

life is a cabaret…. J'aimerais être là

et apparaît toujours dans mes moments les plus désespérés

 

tack

 la télépathie

🥀c'est tragique;  mon coeur se brise a chaque fois🎭

* Hélas! pour le film noir!notes à un étranger

 curtain

🌹

 🎟🕳    

              

Electra’s dictionary and film noir; first impressions (jmmusechron continues)*

 

So, quite compromised, there comes a text

….or rather …. it is the horror of the sound that alerts me, 

no mistaking that operatic shrillness that shatters your teeth through your ear drum as it hemorrhages (Jörn’s text alert for his mother is a short recording of her reaching operatic crescendo)

and …..so it does come somewhat delayed—that ….it is a text message —alert—

“knulla!  det är mamma!”Jörn exclaims

“Oh….” I panic as I try to get my foot from where it is wedged but I fall onto the floor and my hair is caught between a shelf bracket 

but he’s busy texting his mother as I hear another message alert tone come through as he mumbles what sounds like Norse pagan curses, and—I’d rather not mess with that and try to remove my foot from the pocket of his suit jacket but the linen closet is too narrow and it’s the same side he’s holding his phone with

“Yo ! Jörn! ….hey?—hej!”

“Vad?” he glances at me as if surprised to see me —and as I am but he takes a moment instead to think and he says, “you need to go greet Mama and Pappa downstairs right now.”

I don’t answer. Instead fall all the way back now and land against the wall with a bang to my head and almost take the shelf down with me

but what is worse is that we hear Stina’s voice again outside the door. She is talking to….?

Jörn mouths the name “Marcus” to me from…. across the small space of our compromised positions —in the closet. 

We hear her knocking on …. some door near us in the corridor

To my alarm it is my name she calls!

“Oh my god!” I look up at him, and whisper in horror then anger, “she’s right out there! this is your fault!”

He starts to laugh but holds it —successfully back

“You are laughing!? This is not funny—“

But just then his phone begins to alert a call,

“skit, it’s Marcus—“ he whispers as he and I look at each other realizing if they are right outside the door they can hear his phone ….he whispers, as he fastens me up and smooths out the cuff of my trousers as he removes my foot from his pocket  saying, “relax, this works in our favor,” and without much warning, says to me, “just, play along,” as he answers his phone and at the same time opens the closet door as we both fall out the door 

My first impression of Marcus is that he is a very tall man —at least from my perspective. And he wears Italian leather shoes 

Stina is looking down at me, she says,

“so office and recreation ….”

*wanting a break from writing Elan/Raoul script scenes backstory for ep 1; so emotionally draining