Post Mortem with Leonard

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I never expected I could forgive him. After he died he spoke to me from Hell. It was boiling hot and he was very uncomfortable and sweating heavily... with no prospect of release or parole. That was in 2017.  A few months later in my new apartment I had a friend  over for banana bread. I didn't know she was a channeler but all of a sudden Leonard came through. The dates are unclear but I can check-.I think I'd been going through his archives in Toronto or maybe not quite yet. His tone was very friendly. He encouraged me to keep writing the story "it could go to TV" he said, even if nobody will believe it. His last message was "I hope someday you.might wear a skirt" ....

So here we are. They're publishing his first novel Ballet of Lepers but for me the one to read is Beautiful Losers. It taught me the secret history of Montreal back when I first resd it in the late 60s or early 70s. Thats where I first learned of Kateri Tekakwitha "she who bumps into things" around thr time I first bumped into Leonard in the rain on Sherbrooke Street on the night they kidnapped (or.killed) Pierre Laporte who was blackmailing Trudeau over pedophilia

And the crime scene just keeps expanding


I think when I first met Leonard I was wearing little moccasins. I know I had a pair. Where did they come from? They were made of leather and had fancy beadwork. They predated the books in my childhood library.

He writes of KT's moccasins as he fantasized how far up her legs they lace up...

He speaks at length of her suffering, her torture at the hands of the priests... and witch doctors? I need to go back and reread. He praises her extreme piety while implying she's some kind of child masochist who enjoys this kind of thing. How her face, scarred by the smallpox that killed her parents  was transformed after her death--

I can't help wondering if he projected her story onto me, after saving my life in the hospital ca 1956.  As I now believe he did. The white coats were about to murder me with electroshock when Leonard bounced in and stopped the procedure.

Later on amphetamines he read the Jesuit Relations and learned of the Mohawk saint and wove the history, blended with pornogeaphy, into the "dirtiest novel ever published"  and this all happened while I was a high school girl at Baron Byng, just around the corner from his future headquarters at 28 Vallieres, where I would end up living next door at 4306 and 4312 St Dominique.

Is all this just coincidence? Or was it a natural process of unfolding destiny.

When we finally met, on November 7, 1977 I was in my 27th year. Does that mean something? I think he hoped I would remember him but I was a classic amnesia case. I knew him mainly from his songs, books, and TV.

As I look at it now, with hindsight, I see Kateri Tekakwitha running through the forest, bumping into things, learning lessons in the school of hard knocks,  getting lost and slowly finding her way home while chatting with the birds and animals, evading hunters, decoding secrets...

Not such a terrible life after all

And if Leonard took a wrong turn early on, and became a Mossad agent, and hunted people down and killed them... well, he also saved a little girl's life and that counts for something if she ever wakes up and realizes the truth about all this

Comments

  1. Driving the Trance CanadaNovember 5, 2022 at 8:53 PM

    Someone is talking about me.  "Leonard Cohen was the love of her life"

    Someone hands me a fizzy red drink...

    I see soldiers marching to war.


    I don't know who Leonard was. I don't think he was the love of my life. Circumstances brought us together -- some unresolved old karma.

    I think my true love in this lifetime was Mike. But he lived far away and couldn't witness or protect me. He was a boy when we met. And the doctors and scientists who brought us together were sociopaths. I was their little experiment. They manipulated me and my family, and kept me in a state of shock and amnesia. I was never told about Mike -- and didn't know he loved me. Or that I had promised to marry him.

    If I had been able to remember I would have chosen him. But I never knew about our relationship or mother's plan for me. I was told nothing. Nothing was explained. And my mother couldn't know that they were wiping my memory -- she must have assumed I knew about Mike. And would be true to him.

    That's the tragedy. And Mike never understood

    Leonard was the interloper, and also my rescuer when the doctors almost killed me. Of course I must have loved him, but he was not my true lover. I realized that early on.

    Mike was erased from my life, not by me, but by the others. I was left alone with the torturers, as in some ritual.

    Losing one's memory is like having one's soul removed.

    We were all hurt by extreme violence. Now we are recovering.

    ReplyDelete

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