MURMÚRIOS DE LISBOA CX

The Vampire & the Werewolf - Part VII

Round 3: Vampire

She feels they make a good team, she and the vampire. They have the same working habits, at least. Organization, method, a steady pace. They understand eachother in that department.

But does that mean he knows her? Does it mean he has even the slightest idea of what goes on in her soul? No, definitely not. But then, does she know herself? Does she know who she is? Who is she? If she did know herself, she wouldn't be torn between a vampire and a werewolf. It would all be very clear to her. She would be able to choose between two extremes, two roads that lead to opposites of the world. But she can't because she has no idea who she is or, even worse, who she wants to be.

The vampire could help her. He has the power to look at her from a distance, his evaluation detached. Sometimes she wonders what he sees of her in her written words. A lot, probably. His trained eyes will no doubt find their way in between the lines and detect all her insecurities, all her fears, all her desires. It's unfair, of course. For the only thing she has of him are his eyes. Yet, as we already know, his eyes very rarely reveal what lies underneath. He is a remarkable actor. In fact, he would make Brando proud, she's sure. And that's probably why he disdained the option of sharing the genius' time of glory. The vampire knows what the great actor knew so well - all of us are great actors, and we don't even know it. Every time we don't feel what someone expects us to feel, we fake. We fake all day long, without even noticing. Rarely are we who we really are, is it not true?

She always had a problem with the hipocritical turns of the human day-to-day existence. She is also a remarkable actress, but for quite opposite reasons. The vampire acts because he's after something. She acts because she's hiding. The vampire has lost track of his own soul, buried beneath endless layers of masks he built over the years to protect himself, his wants and needs. She always ran from the world, pretending to be a block of ice just so that no one could even suspect how fragile she is. The vampire acts because he has no sensibility. She acts because she has too much of it.

And so she wonders more and more how it would have been to have known that great genius. She's sure he would understand her. He might not be able to help her, but he would definitely understand how she is, why she does the things she does, what makes her tick, what makes her crawl into a corner. And he would understand the vampire. He would be able to show the vampire his own reflection in a human mirror.

She wonders if the vampire would run scared. Maybe he hasn't looked into a mirror in a long time. Maybe he has a Dorian Gray kind of portrait which, if unveiled, would suddenly show the vampire the monster he has become.