merci de veiller sur moi.  Je crains de tomber à travers l'espace si tu n'étais pas toujours là pour m'ancrer.📌

The Electra; Electra’s dictionary & film noir (jmmusechron)

Jörn walks across the room, it faces out to the northeast, it is a private room within the silo. 

At first it is hard to hear what he listens to. But after a few clicks on the volume, it more clearly comes …..

voices talking ….then just one voice ….a familiar voice. Too often silenced. A voice that speaks mutely. A voice that’s never heard. Like screams that never reach the walls. Like pleas never begged to be heard 

like secrets. like secrets trapped inside…. a choking throat by hands hands that crushed a spine ….with pale and ghostlike fingers weakly prying with a desperate strength for release, for breath, for screams for help, nothing goes out….nothing goes in….and we are very, very far far away

this will not affect us. this will not hurt us. if we don’t feel then they can never win….nothing goes in and nothing goes out and we are far away

The voice from the laptop fills the room, a voice disembodied which seems from so many life times ago

She said:

“I used to hide in her closet. I knew I could never be found if I stayed deep inside the shadows. I would hear how he spoke to her. And through the crack in the doorway, I saw the way he treated her…. she was better than him, he did not deserve her…. the things he said, those names…. I would never be that to anyone…. she was just property to him and a filthy toy…. I would never let anyone touch me that way…. I would never be someone’s toy…. And for years, all men became him to me, all men seemed to look at me the way he looked at her…. so when he called me names like his filthy spawn, they confused my gender until I didn’t know what I was…. but I just could never be what he made her be….”

Another voice cuts in,

“tell me about the boat….”

Another click, to raise the volume, pull the curser back to replay….

“Tell me about the boat….”

Jörn….. 

“Yes….”

“Whose boat was it?”

“The man’s…. our secret…. we could never say he would spend the day with us….”

“Where did you go on the boat?”

“I don’t know…. it docked at the restaurant that time….”

“Where was that?” Jörn asked

“Miami ….we went through the other way and oh….yes….it was called ‘the Electra’….”

If a moment could freeze and shatter ….and a Celf become reborn ….and disassociate 

She watched him stop the recording and pace across the room

 joyeux anniversaire mommy, comme tu me manques

💔

 

she writes….

I have come to see, the muse is the only thing that is real. he follows me through my days, he is always there. he will never abandon me. and as I know I watch him, he is always watching me, inverted worlds that exist in their private realms; energies that ride upon the currencies exchanged through real and forgotten memories and spoken in a legend that only alters as it requires to what cannot be expressed in any other way

when the does a muse choose to be the voyeur?/e.d. (jmmusechron) film noir

 

Within the Cell we step out. And the chains follow us. The prison is real and incarcerates. But the mind can walk away. Can split into as many cells that it may require. It can watch the muse play voyeur and become the watched who watches

we are free and nobody owns us. we are free. we can decide not to feel. not to take the blows. they do not affect us. we don’t need anything or anyone. nothing comes inside.

She walks away. She goes. She sees the muse at his game. when he puts down his bow and steps away from the cello, he shuts off the tracks and removes one hat for another

the recordings play

there are cameras everywhere. and from the silo bedroom, she sees him now. She found the app on his laptop. 

she clicked because she

just had to know

 

How is it that every story that I pick up, whether novel or on some screen…. all become him. That every scene I find myself drawn into have his voice, his touch ….his hold upon me….they echo down my chambers with butterfly wings that tiptoe up and down my spine and summon me ever and again always more closer to him

e. d. Noir; a muse’s promise

 

“I know you have had your share of those who have let you down and abandoned you and about myself I know you have had your doubts but— it’s important for you to know. For me to tell you…. I want you to know something, duva….” and here he pauses and looks into my eyes, “you are not alone. If anything should ever happen to you….” he takes my hand and looks into my eyes, “I am with you, every step of the way….”