The Vampire & the Werewolf - Part II
She has decided. At least for now. She thought it would take her a long time. It was quite easy, though.
She chooses the werewolf disguised as a vampire.
The reasons are simple and thus presented:
1. She enjoys masks, but in Venice, not in Lisbon.
2. She's tired of begging for crumbs.
3. She's a simple soul, looking for another simple soul. Although sometimes she forgets this.
4. Her mind enjoys the idea of the vampire, her body desires the werewolf. And she's tired of feeding only her mind.
5. Once upon a time, long ago, she learned that love needs no masks. A simple, kind, feisty werewolf taught her that.
A problem arises:
She wants the werewolf to know all this. But how? She's quite sure if he knew all this, he would quit his vampire disguise and come running to her flesh, as he should. But she has no idea how to tell him. They never reached speaking terms, you see. This is becoming of late quite a cunundrum, for when she makes her mind up about something, she hardly rests until she can make it happen, somehow.
On the other hand:
She could be completely wrong. Maybe if he knew all this, he would just laugh at her, laugh at her silly her. Or even worse, think her totally mad. A mad woman. A woman old enough to not be having fantasies with complete strangers who ...
On second thoughts:
Maybe she would prefer the vampire, after all. At least she's positive he wouldn't laugh at her. Because he knows and he never did. In fact, she's almost sure he pities her. He treats her with utmost respect and keeps her at a safe distance, without leting her know that he knows. Quite the politician.
Can't they see this? Don't they know that this is the truth, the absolute truth about the world?
She has decided. At least for now. She thought it would take her a long time. It was quite easy, though.
She chooses the werewolf disguised as a vampire.
The reasons are simple and thus presented:
1. She enjoys masks, but in Venice, not in Lisbon.
2. She's tired of begging for crumbs.
3. She's a simple soul, looking for another simple soul. Although sometimes she forgets this.
4. Her mind enjoys the idea of the vampire, her body desires the werewolf. And she's tired of feeding only her mind.
5. Once upon a time, long ago, she learned that love needs no masks. A simple, kind, feisty werewolf taught her that.
A problem arises:
She wants the werewolf to know all this. But how? She's quite sure if he knew all this, he would quit his vampire disguise and come running to her flesh, as he should. But she has no idea how to tell him. They never reached speaking terms, you see. This is becoming of late quite a cunundrum, for when she makes her mind up about something, she hardly rests until she can make it happen, somehow.
On the other hand:
She could be completely wrong. Maybe if he knew all this, he would just laugh at her, laugh at her silly her. Or even worse, think her totally mad. A mad woman. A woman old enough to not be having fantasies with complete strangers who ...
On second thoughts:
Maybe she would prefer the vampire, after all. At least she's positive he wouldn't laugh at her. Because he knows and he never did. In fact, she's almost sure he pities her. He treats her with utmost respect and keeps her at a safe distance, without leting her know that he knows. Quite the politician.
The only problem is:
She's quite sure he thinks of her as a kid. She's almost positive he feels quite amused by the whole situation - a student infatuated with him. How long has it been since that has happened? How long? He's not young anymore. And he was never that handsome, anyway. But when he was younger, he did break quite a considerable amount of female hearts. It's his funny side. The ability he has of making you think you're a little bit important in his life. The charm wins them all. Or it used to, anyway. Nowadays it seems that the younger ones think of him as a sweet, qiut, uncle sort of type and the older ones see right through the fox that he is and are just not impressed in the least. Actually, she has a feeling that most of them pity him. There he goes ... they think ... who does he think he fools anymore? ...
Sometimes, very often in fact, she herself pities him. All those masks, all that running around on empty feelings and empty ground. What the hell for? To climb what ladder? To hide what?
Tennessee Williams was quite right, when he said, describing the master piece he created called "A Streetcar Named Desire": “… I think its best quality is
its authenticity or its fidelity to life. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people.
Some are a little better or a little worse but all are activated more by
misunderstanding than malice. A blindness to what is going on in each other’s
hearts. Stanley sees Blanche not as a desperate, driven creature, backed into a
last corner to make a last desperate stand – but a calculating bitch with
‘round heels’ ... Nobody sees anybody truly but all through the flaws of their
own egos. That is the way we all see each other in life. Vanity, fear, desire,
competition – all such distortions within our own egos – condition our vision
of those in relation to us. Add to those distortions in our own egos, the
corresponding distortions in the egos of others, and you see how cloudy the
glass must become through which we look at each other. That’s how it is in all
living relationships except when there is that rare case of two people who love
intensely enough to burn through all those layers of opacity and see each
other’s naked hearts. Such cases seem purely theoretical to me.”
Can't they see this? Don't they know that this is the truth, the absolute truth about the world?
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