THE VAMPIRE ARMAND!

who am i, louis?

am i my history i have endured?

am i the job i do not want?

i do not know anymore.

no one has painted me in over 400 years.

what. what!
it's morning!
i lost time. things got a little heated-
with the boy? things got heated with the boy? i was at home picking lint off the sofa.
i said to join us.
the night's gone. the room's soiled and once again, i'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up.
so the room got dirty, so what? i'll clean it up.
no, i clean it up! you make the mess and i clean it up! mark it on the calendar, align it with ursa major. louis' tri-annual fuck off and find me with apologies to follow.
i'm sorry.
seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes and unfortunates, and broken children, fine-
oh fine, fine? that doesn't sound like fine.
-but revealing our nature to a reporter you met in a bar ten hours ago? what if it was published?
i was having some fun!
you don't have enough to fear from paris?
i was in the middle of ending things, when you-
you'd have been passed out on the floor next to him, louis! out on your feet from the drugs you stuffed him with!
oh, this is boring! you're boring! you are so boring!
and here come the drugs-
colourless.
-up the fangs-
flavourless.
-down this road-
dull.
-into the heart and off-
dull!
-with the fingers, feet-
dull nights-
-and wallowing brain.
-dull weeks! dull months, dull as fuck! suffocation by the world's softest, beigest pillow! the ten hours i spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating than decades with you! oh, there it is! the half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! but what does it mean tonight, huh? does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? huh?
okay. okay, perhaps. but am i, as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "oh, it's so, so hard to be me."
picking lint, off the sofa?
"it's so hard to kill humans. i can feel their feelings as i drain them."
you sat on your hands and put your ear to the wind.
"everyone i know wrongs me."
okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "i'm the vampire armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch."
“my brother tossed himself off a roof-"
"vampires who murdered my daddy made me pretend i didn't have a dick for 240 years."
"my sister, she buried me alive, my daughter was my sister was my throw pillow, when he wouldn't look at me kindly. lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat-"
i talked shit about him the whole time. so what?!
the name! the name, unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.
our problems aren't about him.
and you threw her name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him.
i loved her.
but she didn't love you. not like he did, not like i have.
i know. i know! yes! i know.

bartering with desire.
is that what makes you fascinating?

an instinct to self-efface.
is that what makes you fascinating?

a little dirty, a little deceitful, but it's enterprising.
is that what makes you fascinating?

a splinter of coldness in you.
is that what makes you fascinating?