Nemo Nobis Pacem Donavit

Page Forty-four

Tuesday 13 April 2010           Turning Falling

again interrupting my copying of old posts to write a new one

On the original Sehnen blog on Soulcast, I had a post (which I haven’t yet copied here) about the phrase Dona Nobis Pacem. In 2000 I started writing this phrase and hanging it places: on the walls, on the outside of our apartment doors. It was a sort of secret way of begging the human world for what I wanted from them: to be left alone, not to be harassed, not to be stolen from, not to be mocked to my face, not to be lied to to my face, not to be threatened with this or that.                                                                        

In September of 2006, in the very early stages of the mafia-chick’s relentless, 17-month harassment, I made a mural on our porch with those words in much larger letters than I’d ever used before (a louder plea). If you came to my storm door, you couldn’t miss seeing those words: Dona Nobis Pacem.

This past Sunday I was thinking about how I’d displayed those words everywhere we lived for over seven years, finally making them larger than I ever had before, as my desperation to be left alone grew. And since what happened in the end was the demolishing of my family and everything I considered to be my life, I decided it was time for a new sign, with a new sentence. The end of the story; the result of all my secret pleas to the human world ( a resounding fuck you was the answer the world gave); a statement to the energies of my murdered animals:

                                    Nemo Nobis Pacem Donavit

So I started the poster, and it hangs over the loveseat that serves as both bed and couch in the ponystall the federal and state governments have me (a claustrophobic) trying to exist in. Since I have a few other projects going on in the stall, I can never tell how long it will be before any one of them gets finished. Depression can paralyze me for days or weeks. My physical illnesses can do the same. But the sentence is there in gold letters, and I read it to the energies of my murdered animals, and I read it to my living guinea pig, and I remember over seven years of secret, Latin pleading to be left alone.

(part of the book Being Toward Death)

~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~



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