The scene is a remote, wooded settlement. The grounds are dimly lit by fire-pole torches. It is very early in the morning, before dawn. It might be the 1600's.
I am a child caught up in a scuffle of activities. There is an event about to take place. It is being prepared for by all, with great seriousness of intent--although the necessities of life, such as eating and sweeping and infant care cannot be ignored, so there is the eerie juxtaposition of the ordinary with the sacred.
But is it "sacred"? Someone is going to be burned at the stake, according to the custom for ridding the group of a dangerous, devil-possessed misfit.
That misfit is me, a man , an outcast, a group member who has been disbarred with marginal evidence and a great deal of public projection.
I am, oddly, both the lonesome child and the grown man about to be sacrificed.
People are collecting kindling and firewood in baskets. As the man shortly to be deflagrated and humiliated, I am feeling remote and betrayed, and wonder if I will be able to bear the torture of immolation.
As the child whose opinion does not matter, I am perplexed and outraged at the cruelty of this punishment. It seems unnecessary, irrational, and somehow cut off from the reality of being human. I know that it is not permissible to pose my question to the adults, but I ask myself--with growing horror--"Why?" "Why?" "Why??"
I am a child caught up in a scuffle of activities. There is an event about to take place. It is being prepared for by all, with great seriousness of intent--although the necessities of life, such as eating and sweeping and infant care cannot be ignored, so there is the eerie juxtaposition of the ordinary with the sacred.
But is it "sacred"? Someone is going to be burned at the stake, according to the custom for ridding the group of a dangerous, devil-possessed misfit.
That misfit is me, a man , an outcast, a group member who has been disbarred with marginal evidence and a great deal of public projection.
I am, oddly, both the lonesome child and the grown man about to be sacrificed.
People are collecting kindling and firewood in baskets. As the man shortly to be deflagrated and humiliated, I am feeling remote and betrayed, and wonder if I will be able to bear the torture of immolation.
As the child whose opinion does not matter, I am perplexed and outraged at the cruelty of this punishment. It seems unnecessary, irrational, and somehow cut off from the reality of being human. I know that it is not permissible to pose my question to the adults, but I ask myself--with growing horror--"Why?" "Why?" "Why??"
I FIRMLY BELIEVE YOU ARE A VERY STRONG WOMAN VERY MUCH IN TOUCH AND IN CONTROL OF YOUR MASCULINE SIDE, WHICH I REALLY BELIEVE IS GOING TO PROVE AN INVALUABLE ASSET IN THIS BATTLE WITH THE MALE DOMINATED FBI AND LEGAL SYSTEM YOU ARE UP AGAINST.
ReplyDeleteI STILL TRULY BELIEVE SOMETHING VERY GOOD IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU.
KEEP THE FAITH, GOD BLESS YOU, AND NEVER NEVER GIVE UP.
YOU ARE INNOCENT, YOU KNOW IT...THEY KNOW IT AND SOONER OR LATER WE WILL KNOW IT.
ABOUT THE DREAM.....JUST A SUBCONSCIOUS..BY-PRODUCT OF TOO MUCH STRESS....BRAIN OVERLOAD
GO OUT AND FEED THE FISH AND CHICKENS..HAVE A GLASS OF WINE AND ENJOY THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY!!!!
QUE SERA SERA WHAT WILL BE WILL BE
EAT DRINK AND BE MERRY
YOU GUESSED IT
THE REAL SECRET ADMIRER**