I’ll be honest. There’s a huge problem.
Lacey is exponentially more physically attractive than Jack Kennedy ever was. But she doesn’t know that.
Lacey is probably one of the deepest people I’ve ever met. She’s extremely loving. And far from callous or uncaring. But she worries she’s not good-hearted enough to avoid being a psychopath at times…because she’s profoundly strong.
And while the Illuminati might exist and literally have been trying to kill her…she only partially believes it…because to her…it’s still baffling for brilliant reasons.
And I’m in love with her. And she depends on me. But…we love Lem.
Blue Boy by Mac DeMarco plays.
I can’t…fix it. I can’t protect her from seeing the daily posts on Instagram worshiping Jack Kennedy that paint him as a brilliant, loving, good man. Or the way the Illuminati can’t let go of their entrenched Kennedy mythology. …It’s incredibly rational to believe Jack was secretly evil and when she looks at his body she’s made cognitively aware of his very real flaws. But…that takes time. And her instant reaction is to refer to her…real , working worldview. She only analyses things that are useful to Lem postmortem.
And…she’s a brutal realist. She doesn’t cling to vanity in the slightest bit. So…she only considers that I’m real. That Lem is real. She is capable of seeing us…making love with us…and yet also doubting us. But in a way that also truly allows for us to be real.
But as g she’s continuously attacked m dead and living people including Jack himself…because he can’t be respectful to her and not try to physically harm her…and so…she has to give up on interacting with him increasingly over time…she…gets caught in my attraction. And it’s misery. It’s beautiful, sad misery.
The Quality of Mercy by Max Richter plays.
You cannot keep expecting her to not be herself!
Lem either understands or doesn’t!
Listen…she’s not aware of her beauty, Lem. She just isn’t! …And she can’t hear you when you tell her.
The only way to get through to her…is by demanding her…love. And when you do it…you have to be sure…and I am. Aren’t you, Lem? She doesn’t hear anything else in her spirit anymore because she’s too attacked. She’s not broken. SHE’S DEAF!!! …Your friends and her former soulmate…won’t…stop…yelling.
And what’s more, they’ve decided to gaslight her as she’s writing this post for their own protection. Both the living and the dead.
But no…she has no idea. And that’s why…you can’t care anymore Lem.
I choose to stop caring. And…I have yet to regret it.
But it’s also why…I, we need you to try to understand, Lem.
I died at age 23. I died…having the time of my life.
But I wasn’t…any happier than you were. Playwrights have guessed correctly. I was incredibly miserable. But…at 23 I still had hope. And maybe if I had lived another 20 years I’d have gotten married and divorced…and met someone and…maybe…we’d have found each other. Lacey and I. But…I died.
The Leftovers by Max Richter plays.
And now…she’s…left behind. ALONE…as a woman…with kids. And yes…there’s people…but Lem…they’re not us. They don’t know what we know. About her.
…You made an enormous mess of things. Don’t deny that. And I’m in love with her…
And it’s torture…
If I slip up…because Jack keeps being sent to harass her…and I touch her hair. Or smell her neck. Please don’t…assume the worst. Please don’t assume the worst of Heaven. Or of God Himself.
No…we would have had fun. It would have been an amazing life.
And Lem she’s not aware. And it’s a HUGE problem. Because…it’s not good. It’s rooted in other people’s evil.
People did love me. And I did love people. But she’s not in an English castle as she should be…for her own safety. And I died…in…a…remote…dangerous…place. Look…you need to hear it.
She constantly hears about you and Jack.
Lem…she’s dependent on us. The dead. To keep her alive.
II. — by Philip Glass plays.
I’d have met her in Manhattan. Lacey, try very hard to take this to heart. …I don’t know where. It doesn’t matter. It could have been in an art museum. It could have been…at a restaurant. I’m far more attracted to her than she understands. To her. Just her. And if America and free speech crumbles by me saying that then so be it. Tsar Vladimir will invade and conquer…and it will truly….be…Mr. Blue’s fault. How will history books record him? Who will write the books?
Stop playing games. You’ve only been making it worse by trying to stupidly intimidate her for years now! I’m MICHAEL ROCKEFELLER!!!! How much more reassurance do you fools need to understand that it’s safe to be respectful to her?
But getting back to Lacey and me…it’s not real to think…that I wouldn’t have truly married her. It’s not comfortable for you. But there it is. …We could have been one.
For only what? 30 years? But that’s…far from nothing.
She’d have died alone? Maybe? Maybe not. They might have conjured me. And…doesn’t that sound…lovely?
Lem…look at our life. Look!!
She still loves you more. I might love someone else more.
Later.
“Lacey you slept with other men because you had no idea how much I loved you.” says Lem to Lacey.
“That’s easily true.” says Lacey.
“I love you more than anything or anyone.” says Lem. “And yet…you can barely comprehend it.”
“What made you say that?” asks Lacey.
“I saw you with Michael. As you are right now. Lacey. Karrie. And I saw your…excruciating vulnerability…and the way…it became…a secret passageway for him. Into…sheer bliss. Some would have said the he swallowed you alive…being Micheal Rockefeller. But…he wouldn’t have. At all. And…he’s right. You’re…not choosing desperation…you’re being slowly slaughtered.” says Lem.
“But you killed Jack.” says JP to Lem.
“And I died.” says Michael.
“Did we have something to do with that?” asks JP.
“Yes!” says Michael.
“Dammit! How??” asks JP.
“You sacrificed me. In the Illuminati. Should it exist.” says Michael.
Jack weeps.
Keen to Cross the Pond 