Tchaikovsky – piano concerto no.1. The Tomcat is as puzzled as anyone who would be so unfortunate to enter my place at this time at night.
Tomcat climbs the armchair, finds a comfy place in my lap, leans his head to my right arm and put his left paw on my left hand, all restless from typing at the computer. He doesn’t seem to mind the restlessness. Just wants to be sure he’s the master, he controls the hand!
iConcerts now. Jimmy Hendrix, 1970, at Isle of Wight Festival, last live performance. Never been a proper fan, but he’s one of the best guitarists, so I enjoy his part after Tchaikovsky like a spread of peanut butter on a hamburger. No, I’m not being fair, it’s an interesting combination, more like the one Yoshiki used in X Japan’s concerts. Yes, I’m the Woman with a bloody Tomcat, and, at 4o, I’ve developed the craziest infatuation for this guy, as if I were 14! Everything is revolving around Yoshiki (spelled Yosh’ki, it’s important!) these days, his band, X Japan, and Hide, his dead guitarist. You don’t know who X Japan is? Google it, people, I don’t have time for this, I have to finish my laundry.
It’s been I don’t know how many months, or weeks, or even seconds since he left. Who cares anymore? I’ve learnt to breathe again so… We’re fine. Me, and the Tomcat, and… Me, I’m fine. As Lara would say ‘you and your other personalities will have to move your butts out of that bed and go to work! They’ll fire you! All of you!’ As if I didn’t know it!
Ok, I’ll admit it, I died a little. I know, it sounds like a drama queen, but I am a drama queen. And you know it, so let’s move on!
When my first boyfriend left me, one million years ago, I used to think he had died. I could cope better with his being dead, than his being with another woman. I bet lots of women and girls do the same. No? Oh… I was under the impression I wasn’t the only one with exaggerate emotional problems.
- You’re not, but you know something? ….
And she doesn’t finish her phrase, she’s just handing me a beer and sits on the floor in front of my writing table.
Lara looks tired, I know she has some problems in the office and she’s kind enough not to talk about them tonight. It’s my first night breathing, so we need to celebrate.
- Have you heard from him?
I look at her with the same stare I’d look at an erupting volcano, and its lava coming straight to me. Yeap, it’s coming, I’m not gonna make it, I had a nice life, save the cat!
- Come on, you need to talk about him!
The beer is cold and I can talk about him.
There! I’ve talked about him!
- How was the trip to Frankfurt?
The beer is cold…
I was in Frankfurt last week. Usually, I pick a seat at the aisle, but somehow, this time I ended up at the window. And I usually fly at night. This time it was a day flight. And I swear I could see whales in the cloud sea below. That cloud sea I always feel like jumping into, or swimming, or floating on small cloud pillows like the Princess in Jack and the Beanstalk. Cloud waves shining like gold, then turning into red flames burning along the tales of the whales. The gigantic tales splash the cloud waves which explode into millions of rays of red light, which then burst like soap bubbles and end up in a still, glassy surface and I can almost spot a curious eye, and I remember THE LIFE OF PI, or CAST AWAY, and I feel this inexplicable urge, since I’m claustrophobic and the slight idea of diving can suffocate me, this urge of looking into a whale eye. A wise, and curious whale…
- You know what I don’t understand?
Her voice is weak, as if travelling through fog, from very far away… I stop writing and I look at her, she’s not the volcano anymore, thank God the cat is safe, I survived as well, and I can act normal, interacting visually, though the words got stuck behind the iris, but she understands my silence and continues:
- You didn’t even love him! So why the drama?
I didn’t see this coming. I don’t have time to duck so I receive the strike in my open chest. My heart skips a bit, as the song would say, I blink, I wake up…
- But of course, what’s love got to do with this?
I resume my typing, the cat sleeps in the rocking chair and tomorrow is another day. Maybe I should go back to CF. I wonder how the CF guy is. Now, that was a healthy infatuation! And I could use some healthy stuff back in my life.