Epitaph for Jean-Claude

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Message 22 of 22

" eric paroissien " <vertvetiver@a...>

Sun Nov 23, 2003 6:26 pm

Baby Jean-Claude Sweet Brother

 

 

Baby Jean-Claude is added to the photos; Baby Jean-Claude, although a boy,

is dressed as a girl because up north in France where i come from, the Devil

goes from craddle to craddle to abduct little boys, so to cheat him we dress

them as little girls; most people have forgotten this reason but still do dress

baby boys as girls; Jean-Claude is my mother's brother; the story of Jean-Claude

is a little sad, he was all goodness and a little weak to augurie's insults; he

was born during the war while my grand-father Albert was working in Germany...

so when Albert came back home he could never believe the boy was his and never

touched him, and called him, not Jean-Claude but, " the little bastard " , " hey

'the little bastard' go buy the bread! " , Jean-Claude saw a sudden sunshine in

his life when a simple pretty girl, Maryse, loved him and they married and had

Stephane a splendid boy (i'll give the picture another day); but Maryse, it

appeared later was mostly interested in Jean-Claude's position at the Ministry

of the Armies which was for any girl a splendid opportunity to move to Paris and

have the modern life; soon after they moved to Paris she found a parisian and

left Jean-Claude and took the boy away. Jean-Claude had nothing in his life but

this little boy and he got so sad, and he started to drink and Maryse started to

refuse him to meet his boy, and he got sadder. Jean-Claude the pure soul of

love, finally died in his small lonely apartment in Paris rue Lecourbe in a mess

of despair, beer and vomit; his tombstone is just a naked plate with no

decoration nothing writen on it in the greyness of the north. only the memory of

few can say:

 

" this is the place where Jean-Claude the baby bastard rests "

 

eric

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

Dear Readers, beloved Eric

 

The moon night needs to encash my promise, to write about Jean-Claude. Our poor

soul, heart brother, who died. A death before life. There is so much in this

story, touching the deepest level of all hidden hurts. Healed somehow, this sad

story brings back the memory of crushing cruelities, I have done and I had to

suffer for and had to suffer from crushing cruelties vice versa.

 

The touching symbol starts with the girl's dress, to save her life from the

devil's grip. What helps female to follow the footsteps of angels, when devil

easy seduces boys to bestiality? Boys start, to mistreat creatures, flowers,

flies, frogs like torturing dumb Devils - and they end up as butcheres in

battlefields, as maniac killing enginers for machins. Machins to torture people,

to pollute, to harm, to destroy our beautiful world. How enters Devil the mind

of us male?

 

When I came out of my seven days of coma 1971 two weeks after my birthdays on

Valentine's day, my blood pressure was so low, that even to measure my pressure

of blood threatened my heart beat, to loose consciousness again. Male nurse

could not believe their eyes, pushed again the bandage around my arm, to measure

the blood pressure. And the more these male idiots pressed the bandage, the less

they could see on their instrument! Female nurse handeld the situation totally

different. They _felt_ my pain, just wrote something down - and left me alone -

and in peace! What a relief!

 

That opened my eyes for the female quality to be more part of existence than

male. In my existencial fight those days to join back life again, I felt this

female caring wisdom with absolute certainty. The baby boy with girl's dress

symbolizes the mothers prayer for her beloved child: ''Don't loose touch with

existence, with feelings, with heart! - Please.''

 

Now, Albert was working in Germany - looks like some war-deportation, the heart

killing torture to stay alive yourself, when many, many around you die and die.

And death and pain is closer by your side then food and joy. Even when these

people came out somehow alive from this hell, the precious jewel in the heart

could be broken or lost very easy. Maybe Albert has lost this precious heart

jewel to protect himself and the beautiful new born boy?

 

This boy with his big eyes acts as sensitive medium, as ambassador from heavens,

from a world of peace, love and roses, where the religious groupies dream

themselves away in closed, censored churches with sermons of Satsangha slobber.

How can such a fragile ambassador boy blossom, when Albert as mechanical war

handicapped cripple tortures him in his most sensitive days to grow? ''the

little bastard " , " hey 'the little bastard' go buy the bread! " .

 

But Love, L.O.V.E., love heals all wounds - not yet all of Jean-Claude's

precious life jewel to feel one with existence has been lost! Jean-Claude finds

a girl. But somehow the torturous time at home has cracked his heart jewels in

parts. So the woman he found, was heaven for a while - a little short shining

time - maybe they burned the rest of his heart jewels in a celebration of love?

 

Maybe Jean-Claude has lost already to much his lust for life, his power to

survive? Maybe Jean-Claude has found just the next woman available like a

drawning man a straw to hold him his last moments? Maybe Father Albert has

programmed his beloved ''little bastard " , that the innermost core to stand up,

to fight for his right, was already going down the drain?

 

Jean-Claude experienced heaven, an oasis for a while with Maryse, his love - and

the baby boy Stephane chained Jean-Claude hearts with genetical forces at the

mercy of Maryse.

 

Had Jean-Claude's innermost precious heart diamond lost his shining glance? Felt

Maryse the pain from the torturous childhood of our beloved ''little bastard " ?

Was Mayrse tired to ask her husband " hey 'the little bastard' go e a r n the

bread! " ?

 

Mayrse left him with his boy. Now destiny had broken all chains to keep

Jean-Claude alive. The little, lost, lovely ''bastard'' had nothing else to hold

too, but Mama's memory big boobs bottles with pure poison to forget all his

pain. And Jean-Claude celebrated his suicide, Albert, Mayrse and his son

Stephane will never forget in their life. Jean-Claude hunts the living ones in

nasty nightmares with red rage revenge in sad snow white cold foggy nights.

 

So spins the mind in growing moon the net-web fantasies from all our experiences

stored deep down in the cellar, where corpses disturb dreams. These corpses come

in black cold nights, stand up to climb the ladder step by step on bones without

flesh. And tock, tock their steps freighten the dreamers, passing the borders

from subconscious, tock, tock, tock, coming nearer tock tock ...unconscious ...

an ice cold breath in the nightmare shivers over the body of the dreamer...

tock, tock, tock... a cold bone-fingers hand pressures the throat of the dreamer

and hinders him to cry... tock, tock, tock... sweat in the dream, like fever

shivers over the body, pressure comes closer... finally: the

cccccrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy... sweat wet in bed the dreamer sits up,

trembling, comes into consciousness, pressure in his throat, nearly next to

vomit... the dreamer awakes from his nightmare, cause and effect, tumbles to

toilet, next need to vomit... Albert, Mayrse, Stephane, Jean-Claude...

 

That are the nights, who bring even old men back to their knees, who bargained

with the Devil, bargain their precious jewel of a feeling heart for a peace of

bread to survive. And the bargain costs so much, that you have lost a part, you

can call soul, the capacity, to love unconditional, what all we helpless

creatures need to grow. To grow in life, stronger, to learn to shelter us. In

Pain, troubles, when nightmares start hunting you from Jean-Claude, Albert,

Mayrse and Stephane and

 

your

 

n0by

 

with love

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

n0by/

 

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