Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller’s Love Life…By “Your Favorite Karen” *hair flick*

No one has ever told Lacey they’re in love with her in any beautiful way. Ever. Dead or alive.

In any beautiful way? Yes. If you read the words Arthur Miller wrote honestly and fervently to Marilyn he told he loved her in epically beautiful ways. It’s astounding how we don’t focus more on that. He loved her…to an insane degree. *laugh* It’s…glorious.

“It’s so stupid!” he says himself. And back then…he thought he was stupid. Now he thinks it’s stupid no one ever seems to notice how he actually felt. “Why?!” he wonders.

“People struggle to interpret things nowadays. They always did struggle to interpret things, but it’s far worse today. People struggle to interpret things they read today more than they did in the past when they read things and tried to interpret them accurately.” claims Scott.

Lacey is a frighteningly deep realist. She wonders why.

Is she too deep to be easily loved? Too terrifying? Because she can see right through Arthur Miller. Watching him…it’s painfully obvious to her that he’s totally lying in the past. And it likely would have seemed weird to her then too… He wanted to “sacrifice” Marilyn? No. That’s highly disturbing vanity, fear and severe clinical depression. Not truth. He just couldn’t grasp her…and instead of telling her the truth he let her die. The truth may have been that he thought she’d drive him to suicide first before she killed herself? That he’d go literally insane? Start hallucinating? Crumble. And so in an attempt to stop what was abuse of him…at the hands of Marilyn Monroe…he let her die. But…then he died too. Or wished he could. Why doesn’t anyone in the general public ever perceive his incredible pain? Does anyone? (Other than me of course) My word they loved each other…

Instead it’s, “Hey! Did you guys hear why she supposedly killed herself?! It was the Kennedys!!! It was them! It was the Kennedy’s!!! Gee whiz! Wow!!!” *pearl clutch and gasp* Even if Bobby Kennedy literally shot her in the head in a dark alley and they replaced her head to cover up for it using hidden alien technology…she was in that alley because things ended with Arthur Miller. Nothing mattered in life to her as much after he stumbled and choked on his inability to understand it all. Because he was the man and they were madly, passionately, possibly eternally in love.

…No…they were locked together. And they needed to slow down and breath…and fall apart…safely. But that’s not what happened.

But no…no one has ever told Lacey they love her. Not like that. Perhaps she is too deep? Or what? Too honest at heart? Too…sharp? …And men see a distorted, ugly reflection on her literal sword (not penis nor pen) and cower? Her sword?! *gasp*

“Must be why she’s always with gay men?! They think her sword is symbolic of something hidden in her nether regions. Because she’s so ugly and manly looking and they think she’s a man in drag…” says Zelda and Hemingway laughs. They mean it kindly in a way people today might not be smart or kind or sophisticated enough to comprehend anymore. Or no? Do you get it sweetie? Hmm? “The sword is symbolic.” says Harold. “No. It’s not.” says Hemingway. “But she’s very pretty.” says Zelda laughing with Lacey.

No…maybe she’s ugly?! …Except she’s not. And truthfully…even average and ugly women (in every way) are often loved far more than she ever has been. …By the living. In every way God created a human being to be loved. All four loves.

“True. By the living Lem. Are you really listening to this as she writes it?” asks Michael, livid. “Really?!”

“No. He’s not.” says Louis.

“It seems like he’s just feeling sorry for himself. But is that really true?” asks Lacey objectively.

“She’s me! She’s me!” says Jack as a joke to lighten the mood. Both Joe Jr. and Lacey and also Mary crack-up laughing.

“She’s not me, Lem. You know that. Right?” says Jack with repressed rage and open condescension.

“Let go!” says a cruel member of the Illuminati to “advise” Lem because they “know him” …some of them feel. And they wish to control his spirit roaming Purgatory using “witchcraft.” *”Shake it!”* …And I hesitate to take away the quotation marks because it’s a ludicrous example of witchcraft. It’s pathetic, in fact. It’s grossly weak. It’s…incredibly vain. It’s worse than normal witchcraft. Even that traditionally probably practiced by the Illuminati…I would guess, at least. Should it even exist.

“Damn you! YES!” says Lem, fuming to Jack in response. Of course he knows, it seems.

And Lacey watches. Lacey watches. Lacey isn’t being loved…by anyone but Scott, Zelda, Arthur Miller, Marilyn Monroe, Hemingway…Pauline…and…well you get the idea. It’s all platonic love though. *Arthur Miller smiles*

“Sigh.” says Michael. “You know, Lacey I love you. But I’m not dumb enough to think it’s worth talking about until I can say it right. And I don’t want to totally step on Lem’s toes, so to speak. I feel sorry for him. …And I’d rather you hate me than bother ruining it. Because I don’t need you to ease my ego. I know you well enough. Your faithfulness comes from your heart not from your imagination where Lem wants to place it.”

… …

“And we’ll leave it there for tonight on this blog.” says Hemingway.

“I like it!” says Harold Loeb.

“But she doesn’t.” says Hemingway. “She is tempted to searingly hate it.”