TWIN JUPITER'S
Habakkuk is a polite fellow, our little girl a bit feisty and they decide to like each other even as they are not supposed to; so they don’t officially, but they do a marvelous job at reaching for each other. “I need a bathroom, I need to go to the bathroom.” She was a sharp little girl dangling luminous curls but she had an obnoxious tendency to repeat herself; and Habakkuk became partially contaminated of this symptom, “Again, again, you just went, just now!” Maria, Maria didn’t respond, she just pouted, her lips curling as if they were going to burst into a spiting choir, her hands rubbing her legs as if to mitigate blood flow; Habakkuk would get a little nervous, “ok, ok, just wait till the next gas station.” In order to ignore her digestive decomposition she made conversation “Why do I have to take you to the white Orchids?” Maria had never bothered to question the existence or her knowledge of the whereabouts of the white orchids, neither did Habakkuk, a man, experienced in multidimensional memories and beings, question her necessity or lack of naiveté. “Maria, someone is in centuries old trouble and I have to help them, and now the white Orchids are near them.” Maria, crosses her eyes, almost, wriggles her eyebrows as if she felt there was just more here than she wanted to understand, twitching a cheek she asked, “Is that where the statue is?” Habakkuk, not a man that was easily surprised, cluttered his face with surprised expressions, “How do you know about the sacred statue?” Maria, playing with her socks, “I saw it at the place where the white orchids are, I saw it there.” Habakkuk, pausing, placing his right hand to his chin, “What did it look like Maria? Tell me what it looks like.” The tense changed was intended, Habakkuk wanted to know if Maria had a historical annotation, if Maria was one of the little girls in the 7th century BC, in particular the daughter of Helena, who had saved him during his astroplaning disaster. “I didn’t see the statue, I didn’t see it, it was covered up in old cloth, all covered, dirty, very dirty, I didn’t touch it, honest.” Maria pauses, Habakkuk is deep in feeling, then she continues, “Why do I see all those things? Why do all of those things touch me? And who is that ugly cat?”
Habakkuk understood, it was the sacred statue, and Maria was Helena’s daughter, the very daughter that only slightly older in the seventh century had touched his lips, only now she was not aware that it was him, but they both had a similar vision, their eyes were from the same essence, this is why they felt such natural mutual comfort, “I need to go to the bathroom,” “Oh yes, yes, we are here now.” But now Habakkuk was more urged to find the white orchids, before the sacred statue was unraveled, before something terrible could happen. Lola, his felicitous tarot reader, sent him a psychic message that was only a thought in his mind, “Lauren was missing, Antoinette was missing, Loki cat missing…” the medium offered up some clutter too, from other influencing energies that wanted hamburger for lunch or carnitas, and now that Habakkuk wasn’t a vegetarian anymore, rather more a pimp that really liked Mexican food, a carnitas burrito sounded really good, he felt the calling. Still, Habakkuk, jingling with Lola felt her energy nearer than the burrito, so he breathed worried lungs and searched for his little girl Maria. She walked out of the bathroom, and equally longing for him felt herself joyous upon seeing him. Somewhere within her subconscious, there was that little boy that she rescued so many centuries back, they met under strange circumstances, but she wasn’t missing her parents, she actually felt she had more in common with this stranger that had kidnapped her than with her own parents; parents after all were only vessels to get us to and fro.
Before all this was happening, Antoinette had managed to get herself off the floor, Loki having satiated himself with her delicious sweaty blood, was now her roommate too. They are on the couch, he is on her shoulder feeling her waist long black hair, and purring from the purity of the experience; two days have passed since Lauren’s inopportune visit, and it was obvious that the visit had only helped to bond Loki and Antoinette more, they both had something in common, both of their bodies could quietly lay on the face of the earth and cover it all with their essence, both were Jupiter symphonies moving through melodies of space, both drifting in the event driven universe, drifting. Antoinette had drifted to her high powered career position, her lack of resistance to things, her actual indifference caused an appealing neutrality that gravitated all of those worryingly-business personalities and events towards her, and yet she belonged to no one and none of it; she was mostly disturbed by her peers, she would do her best to be alone in her apartment, endless days with herself, she swam in her Jupiter essence, the music, the bath, her hot chocolates, her readings of esoteric history, she was amazed by anything from the Victorian period, she was subdued by the fashion of the 16th through the 18th century, she had some strange dreams in which she imagined herself closing a full moon, with goat’s milk, closing a full moon with her naked breast exposed under a white tunic, her nipples cold with passions for moon dust, her vessel lifting arms unsealing dark gorgeous perspiring hair for Luna’s eyes; her irises clinging mirrors of her love hanging high over the round altar. And Loki, was like the moon too, this huge essence of black and white cat, with the serene eyes of the night, that held themselves without a blink so as to unsettle any rival into concern for his safety; and yet Loki was a harmless creature, he worked for the Akashic record, as a memoryless transference point, scooping curiously through this century, the goings and happenings, without a precursor for knowledge, Loki was the perfect conscript for the Akashic records to review the details of the universe. Now, these two, almost inert, sedentary creatures, helplessly attractive to everyone else due to their brilliant indifference to the world, now these two were poised in some struggle not of their own doing, both accused by Lauren of crimes that they had not committed, at least to the best of our knowledge.
Antoinette, caressing Loki, not smiling, she doesn’t smile much, she feels and shows sweetness but not outright smiles, she doesn’t really seem to know how to smile or to cry, perhaps she is terrible at both; her smiles and cries mostly acts perhaps, unrehearsed by her naturalness which might not have a need for them, but for the social showing; she talks to Loki, “hey my Loki, what are we going to do now you and I?” Loki keeps his eyes locked on her with tenderness, these two are a mountain chain, Loki’s silence monitors Antoinette’s thoughts, she is remembering when she walked into Lauren’s place. It had all been so harmless, she wanted to review her old friend’s goings, she was trying to understand an incomprehensible internment in a wooden hut, she was trying to find out what had happened to Lauren over the years; she remembers lighting a candle, and she remembers reading Loki’s eyes as distressed, as he stood beneath her by her feet near the gas stove, he was saying something to her, the candle didn’t want to light, then she felt a darting flame blue, swiftly pass her by her right, the kitchen red and white checkered table cloth, caught the darting blue flame, she dropped the hesitating candle; Loki perhaps knowingly or not, jumped on her shoulders, she tried to pry him off but his clawing nails only dug deeper into her neck and back, and out she went, speeding away in her vehicle, when the whole of a bang arched its way from the house reverberating through her head. Loki cat staring back at that burning house, his eyes reflecting a calm unknown to man.
Antoinette brusquely placed Loki to the side of the couch, Antoinette nor Loki had room nor need for etiquette, she had to find Lauren, she knew she had to find Lauren, Loki wasn’t so certain of that necessity, but since he had to remain a silent observer, the consequences were his to endure. Antoinette lit up the bath with candles, made herself some tea, and when the bubbles had ripened with the water steaming atmosphere, she sunk her silk body within, to feel the buoyant universe, as she listened to Jupiter orbit the sun.
Meanwhile, Lauren came to life fully blind, a very dark, dark room, not one kilometer of light, quantum would not and could not happen in this room, her bed was a single, she felt with her hands a night table, no lamp, a dark, dark room, she could not see her fingers, Lauren was not afraid of the dark, cops can not be afraid of the dark, Lauren was becoming afraid of this darkness. If she could have seen herself, she would see eyes shut with swollen and overused nerves and capillaries, she could have used all the makeup in the world, only in this darkness she did not need it, just like she did not need time, how long had she been there? was this her first wake up? she remembers something about a convent, something about a convent, she doesn’t remember that she knows how to play the piano, methodically and mathematically, but still she knows how to play it; still she doesn’t remember this, her fingers right now only serve her to pull out some crusting layered mucus from her nose cavities, which she wipes off on the sheets, she feels her vagina with her hands, yes it is still there, she touches her thighs, yes Lauren they feel normal, muscularly tight, all those exercise hours work to take away the flesh; she grabs her nipple based breasts as if doing an exam. I am feeling almost uncomfortable here, but I have to continue reporting, she places her hand in her butt, she scratches a very intrusive itch that circumvents her orifice, it doesn’t go away, fortunately there is no one else in the room, she farts! The fart essence destroys the scary dark, Lauren feels better, she feels more gutsy now, she smelled herself, a tangible object, she has inundated the room with her smell so that now she is everywhere, and nowhere in the darkness where she goes is she not there; she takes deeper breaths, and doesn’t bother, for my sake, to contain another fart! The air ripples, I can’t really see her face, everything I have described is based on feeling and smelling and hearing what I get from the room, and from Lauren in it, but her face takes on a stronger character now; the farts really helped, she seems ripe with confidence, she gets up from the bed, and starts touching the walls with her hands searching for a light switch, the walls are tarnished yellow, the paint has wrinkles, the walls have cracked protrusions and crater clusters but there are no vents, none of the cracks reach to the other side of the world, there is no fresh air, only what manages to replace the stale air through the door margins. Her piano fingers touch a switch, a spastic dash of frail light fills and vacuums the darkness out of the place, where, to nowhere.
Lauren feels accomplished, she feels like she is making progress, she has a gown on, long, white gown, she touches the metal door knob that holds the mobility of the door secured, the door swings open, Lauren realizing that she is now free, searches back at the room and sees a gold and red cross centered on top of the wall, a gold and red cross with some dark shadows, a gold and red cross, she memorizes the cross as if she had seen it before; she dashes out.
Precisely out in the hallway, on a bench against her wall, two nuns are counting rosary beads, two nuns in black tunics, counting rosary beads; they are full of fatty tissue and are holding much water unevenly through the voluminous frames of their bodies; they are surprised by Lauren’s exiting certainty; they rush up to grab her, she didn’t expect it, she seems surprised too, they try to arrest her two arms with their four hands, but this girl has had to arrest men that were twice her size; the nuns are dispatched in a disorderly manner and they immediately and somewhat irreverently call upon god for assistance. Lauren, not waiting for the succoring to reach heaven, dashes through the hallway; she is aware that every hallway ends in an opening or a stair case or in a way out; she dashes, this is a long hall way, she finds the stairs, spiraling rounds them out nicely, she hasn’t lost one bit of her cheetah abilities, and finally reaching grass, her naked feet sink feeling its morning dew; it is morning, a gorgeous dawn is taking place, she hears birds chirping; she walks on, no convent is going to hold this woman captive. Only just as she nears a central and rustic water fountain, she imagines she is dreaming this, a circle of nuns is closing in on her concentric center, closing in, tightening the circle, Lauren can’t place this situation in the here and now, nuns surrounding her, all these white and black tunics closing in, with rosary beads in hand all of them; and so she tries to make a dash for it but the marauding mob of nuns distorts the perimeter formation and concentrate, wholly trouncing upon her! Before there was sun, but now all Lauren can see and feel are tunics and nuns and rosaries all on top of her. Finally a voice of calm enters the rattling scene, “Hold her down, move aside, hold her, move aside.” “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” and in Lauren’s brain, “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” and the dispersing words clear a path to the sun, which just happens to gloriously and distressingly persistently sit behind the veil & wimple of whom we now know to be Mother Superior Adelaide.
Lauren, being held down by three unassuming nuns, looks up at the head master of the tribe, she who speaks with full authority, “Lauren, we are here to help you, you have suffered much trauma, you are not fully yourself now, you will be yourself again some day soon, right now you are not in any condition to be on your own, it would be unmerciful of us to let you be, we must help you, God wants us to help you and Audrey too wants us to help you and we want to help you; please, please understand.” Mother Superior Adelaide, does not wait for Lauren to reply, besides, from the captured Cheetah eyes that Lauren is throwing around there is nothing to discern. “Take her to her room and this time lock it!” Lauren is really too pissed off to say anything, she still doesn’t believe that this is really happening, she is just waiting for the dream to stop, she is just waiting, in a few seconds she will wake up! She doesn’t wake up, instead she sees the gold red cross, she sees its black shadow, she is violently thrown on the harsh unpadded bed, and the light is hushed out!
Habakkuk understood, it was the sacred statue, and Maria was Helena’s daughter, the very daughter that only slightly older in the seventh century had touched his lips, only now she was not aware that it was him, but they both had a similar vision, their eyes were from the same essence, this is why they felt such natural mutual comfort, “I need to go to the bathroom,” “Oh yes, yes, we are here now.” But now Habakkuk was more urged to find the white orchids, before the sacred statue was unraveled, before something terrible could happen. Lola, his felicitous tarot reader, sent him a psychic message that was only a thought in his mind, “Lauren was missing, Antoinette was missing, Loki cat missing…” the medium offered up some clutter too, from other influencing energies that wanted hamburger for lunch or carnitas, and now that Habakkuk wasn’t a vegetarian anymore, rather more a pimp that really liked Mexican food, a carnitas burrito sounded really good, he felt the calling. Still, Habakkuk, jingling with Lola felt her energy nearer than the burrito, so he breathed worried lungs and searched for his little girl Maria. She walked out of the bathroom, and equally longing for him felt herself joyous upon seeing him. Somewhere within her subconscious, there was that little boy that she rescued so many centuries back, they met under strange circumstances, but she wasn’t missing her parents, she actually felt she had more in common with this stranger that had kidnapped her than with her own parents; parents after all were only vessels to get us to and fro.
Before all this was happening, Antoinette had managed to get herself off the floor, Loki having satiated himself with her delicious sweaty blood, was now her roommate too. They are on the couch, he is on her shoulder feeling her waist long black hair, and purring from the purity of the experience; two days have passed since Lauren’s inopportune visit, and it was obvious that the visit had only helped to bond Loki and Antoinette more, they both had something in common, both of their bodies could quietly lay on the face of the earth and cover it all with their essence, both were Jupiter symphonies moving through melodies of space, both drifting in the event driven universe, drifting. Antoinette had drifted to her high powered career position, her lack of resistance to things, her actual indifference caused an appealing neutrality that gravitated all of those worryingly-business personalities and events towards her, and yet she belonged to no one and none of it; she was mostly disturbed by her peers, she would do her best to be alone in her apartment, endless days with herself, she swam in her Jupiter essence, the music, the bath, her hot chocolates, her readings of esoteric history, she was amazed by anything from the Victorian period, she was subdued by the fashion of the 16th through the 18th century, she had some strange dreams in which she imagined herself closing a full moon, with goat’s milk, closing a full moon with her naked breast exposed under a white tunic, her nipples cold with passions for moon dust, her vessel lifting arms unsealing dark gorgeous perspiring hair for Luna’s eyes; her irises clinging mirrors of her love hanging high over the round altar. And Loki, was like the moon too, this huge essence of black and white cat, with the serene eyes of the night, that held themselves without a blink so as to unsettle any rival into concern for his safety; and yet Loki was a harmless creature, he worked for the Akashic record, as a memoryless transference point, scooping curiously through this century, the goings and happenings, without a precursor for knowledge, Loki was the perfect conscript for the Akashic records to review the details of the universe. Now, these two, almost inert, sedentary creatures, helplessly attractive to everyone else due to their brilliant indifference to the world, now these two were poised in some struggle not of their own doing, both accused by Lauren of crimes that they had not committed, at least to the best of our knowledge.
Antoinette, caressing Loki, not smiling, she doesn’t smile much, she feels and shows sweetness but not outright smiles, she doesn’t really seem to know how to smile or to cry, perhaps she is terrible at both; her smiles and cries mostly acts perhaps, unrehearsed by her naturalness which might not have a need for them, but for the social showing; she talks to Loki, “hey my Loki, what are we going to do now you and I?” Loki keeps his eyes locked on her with tenderness, these two are a mountain chain, Loki’s silence monitors Antoinette’s thoughts, she is remembering when she walked into Lauren’s place. It had all been so harmless, she wanted to review her old friend’s goings, she was trying to understand an incomprehensible internment in a wooden hut, she was trying to find out what had happened to Lauren over the years; she remembers lighting a candle, and she remembers reading Loki’s eyes as distressed, as he stood beneath her by her feet near the gas stove, he was saying something to her, the candle didn’t want to light, then she felt a darting flame blue, swiftly pass her by her right, the kitchen red and white checkered table cloth, caught the darting blue flame, she dropped the hesitating candle; Loki perhaps knowingly or not, jumped on her shoulders, she tried to pry him off but his clawing nails only dug deeper into her neck and back, and out she went, speeding away in her vehicle, when the whole of a bang arched its way from the house reverberating through her head. Loki cat staring back at that burning house, his eyes reflecting a calm unknown to man.
Antoinette brusquely placed Loki to the side of the couch, Antoinette nor Loki had room nor need for etiquette, she had to find Lauren, she knew she had to find Lauren, Loki wasn’t so certain of that necessity, but since he had to remain a silent observer, the consequences were his to endure. Antoinette lit up the bath with candles, made herself some tea, and when the bubbles had ripened with the water steaming atmosphere, she sunk her silk body within, to feel the buoyant universe, as she listened to Jupiter orbit the sun.
Meanwhile, Lauren came to life fully blind, a very dark, dark room, not one kilometer of light, quantum would not and could not happen in this room, her bed was a single, she felt with her hands a night table, no lamp, a dark, dark room, she could not see her fingers, Lauren was not afraid of the dark, cops can not be afraid of the dark, Lauren was becoming afraid of this darkness. If she could have seen herself, she would see eyes shut with swollen and overused nerves and capillaries, she could have used all the makeup in the world, only in this darkness she did not need it, just like she did not need time, how long had she been there? was this her first wake up? she remembers something about a convent, something about a convent, she doesn’t remember that she knows how to play the piano, methodically and mathematically, but still she knows how to play it; still she doesn’t remember this, her fingers right now only serve her to pull out some crusting layered mucus from her nose cavities, which she wipes off on the sheets, she feels her vagina with her hands, yes it is still there, she touches her thighs, yes Lauren they feel normal, muscularly tight, all those exercise hours work to take away the flesh; she grabs her nipple based breasts as if doing an exam. I am feeling almost uncomfortable here, but I have to continue reporting, she places her hand in her butt, she scratches a very intrusive itch that circumvents her orifice, it doesn’t go away, fortunately there is no one else in the room, she farts! The fart essence destroys the scary dark, Lauren feels better, she feels more gutsy now, she smelled herself, a tangible object, she has inundated the room with her smell so that now she is everywhere, and nowhere in the darkness where she goes is she not there; she takes deeper breaths, and doesn’t bother, for my sake, to contain another fart! The air ripples, I can’t really see her face, everything I have described is based on feeling and smelling and hearing what I get from the room, and from Lauren in it, but her face takes on a stronger character now; the farts really helped, she seems ripe with confidence, she gets up from the bed, and starts touching the walls with her hands searching for a light switch, the walls are tarnished yellow, the paint has wrinkles, the walls have cracked protrusions and crater clusters but there are no vents, none of the cracks reach to the other side of the world, there is no fresh air, only what manages to replace the stale air through the door margins. Her piano fingers touch a switch, a spastic dash of frail light fills and vacuums the darkness out of the place, where, to nowhere.
Lauren feels accomplished, she feels like she is making progress, she has a gown on, long, white gown, she touches the metal door knob that holds the mobility of the door secured, the door swings open, Lauren realizing that she is now free, searches back at the room and sees a gold and red cross centered on top of the wall, a gold and red cross with some dark shadows, a gold and red cross, she memorizes the cross as if she had seen it before; she dashes out.
Precisely out in the hallway, on a bench against her wall, two nuns are counting rosary beads, two nuns in black tunics, counting rosary beads; they are full of fatty tissue and are holding much water unevenly through the voluminous frames of their bodies; they are surprised by Lauren’s exiting certainty; they rush up to grab her, she didn’t expect it, she seems surprised too, they try to arrest her two arms with their four hands, but this girl has had to arrest men that were twice her size; the nuns are dispatched in a disorderly manner and they immediately and somewhat irreverently call upon god for assistance. Lauren, not waiting for the succoring to reach heaven, dashes through the hallway; she is aware that every hallway ends in an opening or a stair case or in a way out; she dashes, this is a long hall way, she finds the stairs, spiraling rounds them out nicely, she hasn’t lost one bit of her cheetah abilities, and finally reaching grass, her naked feet sink feeling its morning dew; it is morning, a gorgeous dawn is taking place, she hears birds chirping; she walks on, no convent is going to hold this woman captive. Only just as she nears a central and rustic water fountain, she imagines she is dreaming this, a circle of nuns is closing in on her concentric center, closing in, tightening the circle, Lauren can’t place this situation in the here and now, nuns surrounding her, all these white and black tunics closing in, with rosary beads in hand all of them; and so she tries to make a dash for it but the marauding mob of nuns distorts the perimeter formation and concentrate, wholly trouncing upon her! Before there was sun, but now all Lauren can see and feel are tunics and nuns and rosaries all on top of her. Finally a voice of calm enters the rattling scene, “Hold her down, move aside, hold her, move aside.” “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” and in Lauren’s brain, “Yes Mother Superior Adelaide” and the dispersing words clear a path to the sun, which just happens to gloriously and distressingly persistently sit behind the veil & wimple of whom we now know to be Mother Superior Adelaide.
Lauren, being held down by three unassuming nuns, looks up at the head master of the tribe, she who speaks with full authority, “Lauren, we are here to help you, you have suffered much trauma, you are not fully yourself now, you will be yourself again some day soon, right now you are not in any condition to be on your own, it would be unmerciful of us to let you be, we must help you, God wants us to help you and Audrey too wants us to help you and we want to help you; please, please understand.” Mother Superior Adelaide, does not wait for Lauren to reply, besides, from the captured Cheetah eyes that Lauren is throwing around there is nothing to discern. “Take her to her room and this time lock it!” Lauren is really too pissed off to say anything, she still doesn’t believe that this is really happening, she is just waiting for the dream to stop, she is just waiting, in a few seconds she will wake up! She doesn’t wake up, instead she sees the gold red cross, she sees its black shadow, she is violently thrown on the harsh unpadded bed, and the light is hushed out!
posted by Ricardo Correa at 9:42 PM
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