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

Electra’s dictionary & film noir; excavation unknown

stare at the container wall seeing scenes in my mind real and imagined; past, present and future…. and think of immediate defense tactics for as soon as the truck stops and the back opens up….

and in between such panicked plans I 

 silently brood upon the ‘bigger’ picture of life and ….the ‘meaning of it all’ 

and without my phone for baring of place and immediate events I feel like Dr.Who jettisoned through space

as the Mack truck goes barreling through the great mystery road that is on the other side of the truck container unit and ….I look at my watch ….as I notice how daylight is noticeably dimming 

the glow in the dark hands of my watch tells me that it is a little after half past six…. Oh where are we going, I wonder …..

I lean back in the seat and try to access my situation…. I mean, I should be a lot more upset about my circumstances, you’d think…. but maybe…. I guess I am actually getting used to trauma 

just take it under my chin

hardly notice it ….but really, where the fuck am I going? 

I am so sick and tired of being upended by people and situations that I never brought on myself, I just stood too close to the view of the twisted perceiver—whoa!!! The truck takes a hard turn ….. ok…. Shit! As I am nearly thrown out of the carriage 

It startes me and I start to wonder ….chance ….and events 

Maybe I’m looking at everything wrong ….I grip the steering wheel of the excavator and glance around into the dimming interior ….and I start to think about the last time something like this happened

Do I think Stina is behind this? Maybe it was time, maybe she saw something was about to go down and ….or….

  

Electra’s dictionary & film noir/of Volvos and other things (jmmusechroncont)(more teaser)

 

looking back now, it is hard to remember all the little details ….as my phone was separated from me at the time 

but it seemed such an enormously long while that the truck drove as the pace it was at and all without incident 

I suppose too that during that time I was lulled into a hypnotic feeling of focused calm as I reflected intently ….upon truly everything …. the immediate situation I found myself in…. the state of the world and things going on in countries everywhere…. Sunny and the life I have been living underground—no, I meant undercover as ….as…. 

Beth who is what yet again ….what am I, who am I ….and what the fuck am I doing here?

I thought about the neighbors, the author/actor who ….

and how or why do I find myself again in danger and there seeming no way out….? 

Yes I think about this, I remember this part well, thoughts going in circles as I martyred myself with unkind words aloud over how sad my life turned out and angry at…. oh…. but it no longer seems worth it you see….you know….anymore….as the truck rolled on….and I thought: this is a professional driver , not a regular criminal, exactly, because I can feel the attention he takes as he rounds the curves….yes, he…. as I heard a cough earlier on …. And so I think…. Was he hired only to transport ….? Or does he even know I am in here? ….scream? I decide against this based on a strong hunch 

Instead I just play with the Volvo buttons snd levers as I look for how to start the engine 

Electra’s dictionary & film noir/teaser (jmmusechron)continues

 

….as it slowly comes to me that where I am is in motion, I force my mind backwards to try and recall what I last remember ….as I look around the interior of the truck’s unit, which is mostly empty

in fact, I realize that it was this fact that caused me to wake out of the sleepy fog I somehow got put under ….put under…. ? for now, as the truck takes a turn, I am thrown across the floor of the truck’s studio sized container unit like a pinball and have to reach my arms out and search for something stable to hold onto —as I’m jettisoned and rolled around, and no, I don’t really need to search, though, as I collide into the answer; the only other object in the truck’s container unit besides me, I now am struck against as I encounter it—a Volvo excavator 

should I wonder? But no, out in the middle of farmland and rural country, these really are everywhere. I don’t question. Instead, I grab hold of a part of the step up to the door to stabilize myself and wait for the truck to return to its normal speed on the highway. When it does I haul myself up to the carriage of it and climb inside it, anchoring myself into the seat. I look around inside it trying to figure out if it could be useful if I found out how to start it and managed to…. specifically as a defense or way to get out of here

Electra’s dictionary (film noir 2b ….continued?)

It is on my way back from a walk when someone drives up alongside me and —for just a flash of an instant I think it’s someone I know….only I don’t get to find out 

as it seems either something hits me on the head, or I trip over a rock in the road ….and it is only later when I start to wake from a foggy dream that I realize I am in the back of an empty moving-truck that feels is going at full speed and, without windows for baring— I have no idea where I was going or what time of day

 

Electra’s search for peace found in pieces;thoughts along the journey at the bend 

the dialogue within my head has been paused. it seems. like a submarine that sinks down into fathomless depth to avoid 

the pause of ….the flow of the flow of streams of consciousness ….it is because I am guarded; it is to go into stealth all my truths because I find that where I am now I cannot be myself. So it is not possible to toggle between the artist me and this other me, who isn’t me at all, but has to be this me now because —it is a role ….in order to survive. No I cannot speak my political leanings, I cannot defend even my views….whether it be for humanity or not

but I don’t know how to be fake. how to exist. that way. day to day. 

but it happens another way too—the gray seeps in ….and creates a plastic; empty; fake feeling ….in the end 

 and it is like being the sock instead of the foot; stretched out, empty and misshapen 

I start to suspect that this might be the storm blowing itself out and that I am about to be —I believe—recalled back to the Celf again 

but only if I get all the pieces right