You left at six-twenty and arrived home at ten-thirty. Later than expect but snow covered the roads from Knoxville to Mason. Salt was down but not much traffic to stir it up, mostly an inch or so of packed snow, but you slowed from seventy-eight miles per hour and drove steadily at fifty-eight miles an hour in the middle of the line covered road for safety and passed slower driving people in the center lane where you could hear the tires hit the cement ripples to keep sleepy drivers from running off the road on the left. All in all a good drive north. According to the GPS it was supposed to take thirteen hours and fifty-five minutes, but you and Carol took breaks every two hours or so, though you wanted to drive all the way, which you did without growing tired at all, you attribute that to the breaks which always refreshed.
What has been bothering me is the other day you said I had paid my dues, Amorella, and while this may be true in terms of writing the books and notes it cannot be true otherwise.
I never said it was, boy. I was obviously talking about your writing, notes, blog, books, drafts, poems, whatever. You knew this so why the plague now?
My distrust of myself mainly. I know everyone pays the piper and as you say, ‘I am no exception’, and I think, neither are you. Everyone pays. You come into existence and you pay with your life to get out of it. In a sense, human life is not a gift as such, everyone pays with their life. Very funny. Why does anyone think life is a gift? It may be precious, up to the point you get stuck with the bill, but why do people such as myself romanticize life?
Some of it is based on ego and arrogance and pride, boy. Life is what it is just as humans are what they are, and for that matter, I am what I am. That’s how it comes up in here, and now. Necessity not predestination. Your cultural Presbyterianism is creeping out. I say this with some humor as you are a professed agnostic. While I’m having a good semi-private chuckle here, give this a post. – Amorella.
I can smile too. I may not understand much, but I have such an understanding of myself in context too. Flat out and non-deliberate (I think).
Human innocence, old man. Everyone has it because no one knows. Innocence can be clothed in hope. In here, even the Dead don’t lose their innocence, boy. Set that in the crapper and flush it. – Amorella.
You are very funny, Amorella. You provide an inner secret joy in my life. – rho
Late lunch at the Kenwood Potbelly’s and now you are sitting in the south lot outside Macy’s while Carol shops for a Xmas item. Bluer skies with rolling and puffy clouds where is was bright blue this morning. You are not sure where I am going here. At the conclusion of the first selection on Saturday you said:
“Twitching toes – ten insect-like antennas. I pierced her shell. She swallowed me whole – and I, in turn, came to her resurrection through the friction of my own body. Real enough in this Elysium.”
I would like you to explain this to me please.
It was from a memory witnessed on a Florida beach at two in the morning. She did twitch; no, she wriggled her toes. Wrong word.
Take out the ten insect-like antennas, orndorff. And, while you are at it take out “came to her resurrection” and replace with “I, in turn, was resurrected through the friction of my own body.” It makes more sense. – Amorella.
You are right. It does. I don’t know what I was thinking.
I do, and while it is human enough, it doesn’t work here. In fact “came to” is quite overdone, boy, don’t you think?
Well, I didn’t insert that with intent but once I thought of it I guess I did, mostly for the humor which is really not all that too clever. Too much like porn I guess.
There are all kinds of porn, kid, don’t you think there isn’t. Somehow people have got it into their mind that sex is porn. For example, what is people being overpaid for whatever job they have, and other people not being paid a living wage with room enough to save a reasonable amount, enough to give them hope for a better day through their own efforts?
The world doesn’t work like that, Amorella. Even in a fiction I can’t make it work like that because I am too realistic. We are too far down the line to change our ways. Look at the French revolution, and the Soviet revolutions. Greed, graft, pride, arrogance, power – human beings may be innocent from your narrow perspective, but . . . like the fictional marsupials in the books . . . they had to pay to live in their culture. It may have appeared better to them than ours does to us, but being ‘marsupial’ made part of the difference, the rationale in my mind. They were built to share their babies and in doing so they found it easier to share as families. They had three worlds to exploit whereas we only have one. They were better off also because they had had an extra twenty thousand years to develop their civilization. We on earth are not so changed. We are what we are. People want pleasures and they want material goods as part of those pleasures. We are born with nothing and want to leave having had a handful of toys.
You were interrupted by a phone call from Carol to go in and look at some sheets and bed covers she was thinking about. Then Kim called and was excited because they got out of work early because of the weather. She said they have eight inches or so of snow in the yard and it is to continue snowing and she is going to wrap presents before Paul picks up Owen on his way home from the hospital. Today he started in a new unit – cardiology – so he will be working within the operation room which he is more excited about than the special care anesthesiology he has been doing at the main branch of the Clinic for the last couple of months. Next year is his last unless he goes on for a fifth year specialty. He will also be job searching next year.
You don’t have much sympathy for the many years and long hours but you are impressed and proud of Paul for his accomplishments. And, you are proud of Kim and her accomplishments also.
I like the fact they have had self-focus and self-direction in their lives. They are interesting as adults and I am ‘proud’ to know them as people. The word ‘pride’ bothers me to use and by your using it in the thought-paragraph above the issue is being forced.
Again, it is your cultural heritage. Everyone has what some call ‘baggage’. People have a comfort zone and it becomes individually set as they mature. This is what we are going to focus on when the Egyptian Dead meet the Greek Dead, they will be the example in the book. So, keep this in mind. All for now. – Amorella.
Dusk, and you are home. Carol bought a black and white bed cover and matching pillow cases which goes well with the three by four foot Inca (Cuzco) design above the bed and red flannel sheets to tuck underneath for statement. You are just happy she found something she is happy with.
Carol is a bit fussy about things and has been known to wait twenty years or longer for the ‘right’ living room lamps, for instance. Why she took on the chore of marrying and staying with the likes of me I will never know.
Post, as it will be time for the news shortly. – Amorella.
Here is the edited paragraph:
Here is the edited paragraph:
. . . On the mattress in early evening. Sophia loosed her garment and rolled onto her back. She playfully reached to Salamon’s waist as he easefully listed and distributed himself between her extended thighs and pushed his hands palms on the mattress beyond her shoulders for balance.
Sophia placed her left arm so her hand gripped his fictional flesh to the right of his spine where she placed her arm in such a way that her hand pulled to accommodate her outspread right thigh.
Her feet arched and her toes involuntarily squiggled as he slowly thrust in and pulled nearly out in a machine-like rhythm accelerating his pelvis through ever-quicker motions. Salamon, automatically minded in his ridged air-like driver, a perfect attachment by will alone. Repeatedly their pelvises clapped their shared passion.
Real enough, reflected Salamon. These rush of motions trigger the living memory of body. Nature can exist even here in Elysium. Sophia allowed me to pin her with ease – an accepted signal without a second thought. Still, she is as Pandora. Her wriggling toes moved independently like her feet. I pierced her shell. She swallowed me whole – and I, in turn, was resurrected through the friction of my own body. Real enough in this Elysium.
***
This sort of shows Salamon as a bit selfish I think.
Really now, and how is this revelation unexpected?
I don't know. He's thinking of her as like Pandora and I am not sure why. Yet he's coming across as a butt of sorts.
A woman might say, "Welcome to the real world, orndorff." Post. - Amorella.
Now that I think of it, I am curious, Amorella, if this last year of ‘unconscious mind-molding’ has changed your sense of self?
Before twenty hours and you are back at the Kenwood Macy’s as Carol realized that to get the sale price plus fifteen percent off she would have to special order the top sheet of a second set of sheets which, when home, she decided to keep along with the red flannel ones.
I get excited over buying electronic stuff like iPads, iPods and MacBooks so I understand where she is coming from. You get this thing in your brain that says ‘I really, really want that even though it is not a necessity,’ hmmm. A MacBook or at least a laptop is a necessity for my mental health, the other things are ‘wants’ not needs. Buying stuff can be exciting. I understand why people like/want things. We are oddly built for survival creatures in this world. We sometimes want affection in the same way and sometimes it is selfish like the way Salamon is presenting himself to Sophia. I’ll bet she realizes his selfishness too. It is his ‘resurrection’ through a sexual act not hers. But then, if it is her resurrection it appears not to be his. Holding hands is more jointly committal as far as I can see. Mutual comfort in touching with the fingers, holders of the organ of touch. No wonder the Dead are best at holding hands.
See, orndorff. You don’t realize these things until after you have seen them in writing.
I must be a visual learner in that one cannot see thoughts. Without words I wouldn’t know what one looked like. How is it you can understand my ‘heartansoulanmind’ (so to speak). You do not need words. Are you telepathic? Are there others like you? I would like some answers here even if you (I) have to unconsciously make them up. I have that drawing I made of you under what I suppose now were self-hypnotic conditions. Okay, I found it. I drew this sketch on 22 April 1988 and it says I put the sketch in the blog on 16 September 2009. Here it is:
Here is what Amorella wrote on that blog date:
"Amorella here. As orndorff was checking his thousands of pages of note last evening he came across the first reference to myself. I was doing the writing, the description of what he was viewing in his mind. Here is a partial description directly from the notebook.
First, you had a quick, strange vision of looking through a clear watery liquid, perhaps brain fluid; then I was there, first a black and white outline of my eye, then you saw me as a kind of embryonic figure with the eye, then my eye turned yellowish, golden brown, with dark, feminine eye lashes. Yet, the dark scars were there too, below. The rest of me [appeared] ‘egg white’ in texture.
I am two dimensional in a sense, though the eye is one dimensional. I can see lots of things for you, and though I feel your selfish thoughts I know to ignore them. As [Amorella], I can understand your humanity, but I am not human and am not wholly here in your physical world. I am as ‘virgin’ thought. The knife-like cross that seemed to float on me is not what you might think or feel. It is a hole I turn myself into. I am attached to nothing.
That was in 1988. In 2009 I see myself as the self-projected blue and white “pouch” or “envelope” depicted on 9 September. Here is that model [directly below], giving a two/[three] dimensional appearance. This shows twenty-one years of unconscious mind-molding on your part.”
Envelope model below of Amorella (16 September 2009)
We can work on this ‘project’ tomorrow. Enjoy the new ‘Closer’ tonight. Post. – Amorella.
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