so be It.

I know why I can't write a single line about me.
About us.
About everything that bears my real name.



It's because I cannot see my real self as a potential character. No novel will be written about me as I see myself. (Don't tell me I have too much ego, the thing is: you have to be, if you wanna write, least a blog entry...Think about it)

It will always have to be wrapped under clothes and garments, where the flaws inevitably show, but also faint glimpses of what I had alway want to be.

Maybe that's why my childhood was full of flying, magical creatures, preferably Unicorns. Maybe that's why I now bear puppy eyes and silver hair.










And immortality as a curse.
*******

STORY-TELLING PART II (circa January 2004)

this isn't worth a new thread... ^ ^

don't expect part two before long...

faked reality...

***

Part one -settings-

Inuchan tapped impatiently her claw on the phone.
- ….and I am telling you to sue that Rowling lady, she said. I just read her latest Harry Potter # 45 thingy - well the blueprint of it- ….. If having that Lord Voldemort being an actual "dog-demon" isn't leeching , then I am Mary Poppins, for sure! And I do not even mention the offence made to my race, it seems so far beyond your understanting faculties….
A somewhat confused voice answered uneasily.
- ….her "lawyers"? laughed Inuchan. See if I am afraid of them! Just tell them my husband is the President of the A-Corp, she added with a lower, threatening tone. Just tell them we could break Mrs Rowling's business, if we wanted to… If those people do not get anything about ethics and honours, let's talk about what they understand: m-o-n-e-y…..
She hung up for good, with a little smile. Like if she cared about money herself….. Her gaze went around the office, the white walls, the priceless furniture, the huge windows overlooking the city…. Like if she needed more money… She let herself fall down on her chair, looking idly at the range of books, standing in perfect alignment on her desk, like little faithful soldiers. All of them wearing her name on the frontpage. All of them hiding the same stories of passion and power, love and betrayal…..All what people wanted. All what people were ready to give money for….
The shrill ringtone again, cold and inhuman.
-Yes?
The same confused voice, telling Inuchan what she already knew: Rowlings' lawyers were ready to delay the printing process, and have J.K. suppress the 'dog-demon" reference. She hung up again, not even feeling thrilled by the mayhem she had just started: panic at Rowling's publishers, huge loss of money, postponing of all the marketing events and the movie, not mentioning the loss of credibility….and millions and millions of children waiting for their beloved hero's new adventures….. Human emotions were somewhat out of her reach, especially when it came to use them for economic purpose. Being a writer herself - a famous one - she knew too well how it worked. She knew the system was rotten, it was selling dreams for cheap to naive people.
It was'nt even about celebrity.
It was a question of pride.
It was a question of dignity.
It was a question of power.

Or maybe was it just about having fun?

Inuchan heard the appartment door slam. Then her keen dog ears made out a muffled "thud", a body falling on a couch. Inuchan left her desk, then entered the lounge. A purple sunset bathed the large room, the black couch, the glass table, and somewhat further, the stainless steel of the kitchen appliances.…. She walked through the space like a ghost, her bare feet sliding on the floor, her silky kimono rustling around her body. She sat next the man resting on the couch, and peeped at his tense face, his not too welcoming glance. He nervously lit a Red Marlboro, then threw the pack onto the glass table, and seemed to quiet down a bit as his lips released greyish clouds of smoke.
Mister President looked pretty pissed off, tonight, she thought, as she played idly with one of his dark hairlock. Better not teasing him too hard. She put an interrrogative expression in her gaze, waiting for his to meet hers. But he avoided it however, unwilling to start a conversation.
-To hell with those damn fashion -models-to-be, growled Stovila, to himself. They are never satisfied…… As if it was MY fault if they aren't good looking chicks….
Then he rose, with not a single look at Inuchan, and rushed to the bedroom.
Inuchan smiled, as she heard him taking a shower. Better let him alone for now: she wasn't in the mood to start a fight right now. Not yet, to be more accurate.
On the ashtray, the cigarette kept burning quietly.

***

For those who wondered what the hell that "A-corp" could be, let's say it was the Image Empire on Earth. Not a single web-interface, not a single TV logo, not a single software layout that wasn't "A-corp copyrighted". Had you ever marvelled at those beautiful posters invading the walls of the cities, offering their 3m x 5m sized dreaming pictures to the people's eagerness? A-corp credited. Had you ever drooled at those beautiful faces on famous magazines' covers? A-corp, at your service.. Also add CD booklets' art, DVD producing, entertainment providing, photo-books, Art Galleries, and there you have an idea of what A-corp represents: a World of Pictures, with Fame and Fortune, and the Crap that goes with It: jealousy, betrayals, lawyers…. 30 000 employees, positive turnover, market leader. At its head, a 30 years old man, ruling his universe like a tyran, never yielding to his inner emotions…. A nasty bastard, so his jealous opponents would say….so little they know…
This was how it looked like to be married with one of the most powerful man ever. You better had to be strong enough to endure the envy, the jealousy, the nasty tricks life and people had in reserve for you, you better not be afraid of loneliness, of having a few friends, none most of the time… You better be prepared to men smiling at your face, then looking greedily at your ass, wondering how much cost your lacy underwears… You better be prepared to women smiling at your face, then mocking you behind your back, desperately hoping they could fuck your husband and take your place in the matrimonial bed.

Inuchan's demon side didn't give a damn to those people. On the contrary, she tended to have major fun in freaking them out. It was so easy: a glare, a growl and the fierceless wolves turned into innocent, creeping sheep.
How she despised them, sometimes.
How she despised what her life had become, sometimes.

***

You see what I mean