Thursday, January 06, 2005

senza voce

There are things I want to say. Things I want to say about tragedy and sadness. And then there are things I want to say about whipped cream and Vienna. Then about Gypsy singers and about feeling cool.

But I cannot say those things now. Because there is someone here. Someone sucking the life from me. I must hold off living, and consequently writing, until this someone leaves in a few days. Terrible to live in this suspended way.

But it would be vulgar to complain about a situation that I created. And vulgar to complain when so many cannot complain.

So I only leave here the suggestion of complaint. That complaint is in my heart and riddled through my stomach. That I hope it won't fester there.


At 2:15 PM, Blogger Indeterminacy said...

My God! It sounds like you met a vampire. Maybe there is a crucifix that will work for you.

At 7:49 PM, Blogger svm said...

actually, ms. irmavep, are you not the vampire?
avoid the garlic and this too shall pass...

At 10:28 PM, Blogger Irma Vep said...

Yes. Of course.

Irma Vep ---> Vampire.

But that's not something I'm proud of-- at least I stopped being proud of it, and started feeling properly guilty about it a few years back. I'm working on not being a vampire, but it's like working on not being an alcoholic. Though incidentally: I haven't had a drink in two and a half months. (for those who don't know me: this is metaphor for godsakes! I neither suck actual blood nor am I an alcoholic).

But what I'm experiencing now is not vampirism. I shouldn't have said "life-sucking." It's more like I've been put in a cage.

Still, this could be karma: "The bill comes. The bill always comes." I think this is what the narrator says to Brett in "The Sun Also Rises."


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