Note: This is a ‘short’ short story I developed from a creative writing exercise and was inspired by the beautiful song Whiskey Lullaby from Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss.
Whiskey Lullaby
‘Did you know that some butterflies only live for one day? But they have wings. They can fly and see everything.’ She told me, cigarette in one hand and a glass of dry gin in the other. I had expected to find her at her dressing table, putting on eye-shadow and lipstick, of whose matching patterns only women understood, but her lips where already cherry and her eyes misty with both alcohol and black kohl.
‘I’d take you everywhere, if only you’d let me love you.’
I didn’t know what else to say as I picked up her black gloves from the dresser and removed the vices from her hand. I kissed her bruised hands as I rolled the satin up to her elbows. I could feel her gaze down on me and I knew it was pity she felt.
‘Don’t be cheesy. And don’t tell me what to do. This,’ she said pointing to the glass, ‘takes me everywhere I want to go. I just close my eyes and imagine.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t drink anymore.’ We could hear the crowd roar. She grabbed the bottle of gin from the top of the pile of dresses. She half closed her eyes and encircled the bottle’s opening with her lips.
‘I need it. I need the courage, Frank. They’re merciless.’
‘I thought you weren’t afraid.’ I wasn’t fair but I wanted to hurt her. There was no defence against her but the aggressive offence. And I was aggressive in saving her from herself.
‘Fuck you, Frank. I’m not.’ She threw the bottle at me as she got up. ‘I’m going to be a legend, you’ll fucking see.’
I smiled. She had a beautiful voice, not only when she sang but when she spoke as well. In heavy steps she disappeared behind the curtains and to the wave of cheers that greeted her. I watched from the side of the stage.
‘Ladies and gentleman, I’ve prepared something a bit different for you tonight.’ The clamours met her declaration with such intensity and I knew that she could have offered them death and they would still cheer .She let the noise die before she went on.
‘It’s a song by two artists I really admire. Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss. Whiskey Lullaby.’
With a note that said I’ll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
‘Happy Birthday, Gabrielle!’
That night I got drunk and went to a brothel.
Extract from a local newspaper, 5 years after
Today is celebrated the fifth anniversary of the death of young soul legend, Gabrielle Snake. The 23 years old singer, known for her uniquely volatile voice died from a heroin overdose in the bathroom of the venue she was performing in, on the day of her birthday.
Extract from the official biography of Gabrielle Snake, by Cristina Stein
After the dramatic death of who some critics call the female Morrison of soul music, manager Frank. D. White refused to make any official statements. His retirement followed soon after and he is now the owner of a most exquisite butterfly collection, in the company of which he drinks his dry gin.
I look around me and I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed in people giving up their desires, their dreams, ambitions and expectations, their principles at the first sign of hardship, without even trying. Individuals rejecting what their inner voice is guiding them to do because it’s too vague. If it’s art, it’s too vague; if it doesn’t bring guaranteed money, it’s too vague; if it doesn’t bring lots of money, it’s too vague. Vague and impractical. And the ‘if’ sequence go on. As if guaranteed money isn’t a vague concept. Do something practical because you have to do it. No, you do not unless it’s a case of sever necessity, of survival. I agree with fighting for your dream house, car and annual holidays but why call others obstinate only because their goals differ? And the other way around. Problems and questions, almost as old as humanity, taking different shades in different sketches. Being open-minded does not mean you agree with everyone and everything, it means you respect others’ opinions and do not push them away only because you see certain things under a different lamp light. Red has shades so does blue and every other colour. It angers me to see friends rotting inside because they are blind. And it angers me to see yet get thrown of the road.
So I say: for me it’s literature, ice-cream and rock’n’roll. What do you say? What is it for you?
As many of the musical teenagers of my generation, I started my career in liking rock music with Linkin Park, a band I still respect and am fond of.
I used to profoundly dislike Guns’n’Roses or the little I knew about them anyhow. Maybe I was just one of those persons who, as Slash said in his autobiography, didn’t get their music. What I certainly didn’t get was Axl’s high pitched voice but then I knew so little about good voices, guitars, riffs, chords or to what I now consider the actual spirit of rock’n’roll.
How I came to like them, that’s a different kind of story. I was at a friend’s house and bunch of the guys there were playing Guitar Hero 2, I think. Most of us are familiar with that game. Anyhow, it looked interesting so I asked a friend to teach me how to play. While I was concentrating on hitting the notes a.k.a. colors and trying not to embarrass what was left of my dignity as a gamer I wasn’t paying much attention to the song I was playing. However, I finished soon enough to grab hold of the last part of the song which immediately caught my attention.
“Hey, what band is that?” I asked.
“Guns’n’Roses.” Someone said from behind. I puffed and moved on to another song and my first experience with a Guns song was soon forgotten.
Some week afterwards, I made acquaintance with one of my best friends’ neighbors. He played the guitar and asked me if I wanted him to play something for me. What he played was the intro of Sweet Child o’ Mine. It was then when it really caught me and I felt like I had missed out on something that would prove essential to my life. It was the second time I listened to Sweet Child o’ Mine.
“What are you playing?”
“Don’t you know Sweet Child o’ Mine? Guns’n’Roses?”
Of course I’d heard of them but it wasn’t really my cup of tea. So he sent me the song. What happens is that when I like a song, I usually put it on repeat and listen restlessly to it. For at least a weak I didn’t listen to anything else but Sweet Child o ’Mine. Afterwards, little by little, I discovered the rest.
Before that I wouldn’t put too much attention in knowing the members of a band, unless I really liked it.
One day, I was at a concert in a public square that I love very much, Unirii and the guys played a cover of Sweet Child o’ Mine. The friend I was with was telling me just how talented Slash is. How talented who is? He did me the favor of enlightening me by letting me know that Slash was the guitarist of Guns’n’Roses.
I can say that was the day when my madness began. I became “die-hard” Guns’n’Roses fan and the fact that I’m never going to see them in a concert, with the line-up that made me love their music so much almost makes me cry. I would probably but if I weren’t a person that seldom cries.
One year later, I took on guitar and of course, the first song I ever tried my hand at was Sweet Child o’ Mine. Guns and Slash in particular will always influence the music I’ll end up making. They were the first band whose albums I knew, whose concerts I watched over and over again, whose music I wanted to play. Moreover, the love for them opened my perspectives to many bands I had overlooked, like Aerosmith, Motley Crue, etc.
My friends are used to that already and I’m still surprised that they even let me go near a jukebox that has Guns’n’Roses ready to be listened to.
My influence while writing this is Appetite for Destruction and reading Slash’s autobiography.
Demult n-am mai simtit nevoia sa fac 2 lucruri: sa plang si sa scriu in romana.
Desi o simt in adancul pieptului, lacrimile nu vor sa-si dea drumul.
Sunt inconjurata de atatia oameni minunati si totusi ma simt mai singura decat oricand. Stiu ca exista lucruri ascunse. Lucruri care pot fi aflate numai prin metode “neortodoxe”, metode care atenteaza la etica, loialitate si prietenie. Si totusi sunt pe margine. Nu sunt si nici nu reprezint ceea ce credeam a fi.
Maretia este doar pentru unii.
Ma regasesc in versurile Bon Jovi mai mult ca si oricand.
Mi-as dori sa fiu o fugara, sa fug de realitatea care nu-mi palce si pe care nu credeam ca o voi descoperi vreodata. Am fost aruncata in bezna si ma infrunt cu intunericul. Nu mi-e frica. Ne-am inteles bine dintotdeauna. Insa nu aceasta este conceptia mea despre viata.
Paote sunt geloasa si nu stiu. Se spune ca uneori nu constientizezi anumite sentimente.
Banuiam ca va veni si momentul in care va trebui sa fac bilantul. Deci, sa vedem…
1. Am facut 18 ani. Nu stiu daca aceasta poate fi considerata ca si o actiune a carei regizor sunt eu , dar luand in considerare ca am ajuns si eu acum printre oamenii care pot ajunge la inchisoare (schimbare “majora” pe care o mentionez tot timpul cand sunt intrebata daca ma simt altfel de cand am facut 18 ani) ma pot mandri ca acum imi am viata in propriile maine putin mai mult decat inainte.
2. Am ajuns la Vama Veche. Un loc a carui farmec e, cum am mai spus si cu alte ocazii, atemporal.
3. Am mers in Anglia. A fost o experienta cu totul si cu totul speciala. Era interesant sa ma aflu intr-o tara in care daca, pe strada, vorbeam limba mea nu ma intelegea nimeni …in schimb, vorbeam limba engleza si mi se deschideau atatea usi. Initial vroiam sa scriu “limba lor”, dar am inteles ca engleza face parte din mine la fel de mult ca si romana. Am calcat pe meleagurile in care legendele traiesc, unde se spune ca a fost Camelot, ca a trait Regele Arthur, urmat de loialii sai cavaleri, unde si astazi, dintr-o pestera sa aude strigatul vrajitorului Merlin.
4. 8thanimeinstinct. Pentru mine inseamna atat de mult incat restul cuvintelor ar fi de prisos. Si orice s-ar intampla stiu ca, in final, merita.
5. Mi-am cumparat Portretul lui Dorian Gray de Oscar Wilde. Am cautat cartea aceasta timp de 2 ani si a fost nevoie sa ajung in Anglia ca s-a fac rost de versiunea ei in engleza. Mi-e imposibil sa descriu sentimentul care l-am avut atunci cand am dat peste ea pe raftul unui anticariat englez.
6. Am cunoscut oameni. Unii care mi-au facut mult bine, altii care s-au dovedit a fi contrarul a ceea ce ma asteptam, unii care pur si simplu mi-au deschis ochii, dar toti m-au impins catre un drum pe care nu l-as schimba pentru nimic in lume.
7. Converse. Mi-am luat prima mea perche originala si oricat de superficial este, a fost o mare bucurie in acel moment si inca este. Ma ajuta sa fiu mai aproape de ceea ce sunt cu adevarat.
8. Am inceput sa invat sa cant la chitara. Cred ca e realizarea de care sunt cel mai mandra.
Am vazut cumva primul fulg de nea si nu stiam? Mi s-a intamplat asta acum cateva saptamani si de atunci ma tot bantuie acest gand. Poate ca sunt atatea lucruri pe care refuz sa le vad si, deci, refuz sa le traiesc. Poate ca sunt atatea lucruri care pur si simplu imi scapa. Ah, cateodata ma gandesc … poate cat de norocosi sunt ignorantii. Atat de fericiti in simplitatea lor. Atat de nestiutori, dar pe atat de intense sunt trairile lor. Oare trairea pura, virgina se compara cu trairea carbonizanta de geniu? Si noi, cei mediocrii, “cautatorii de sensuri” chiar suntem “iremediabil pierduri”? Suntem incompleti si vedem, simtim, traim incomplet? Ravnim la mai mult? Si ajungem mai sus … sau mai jos? E o panta si trebuie sa stii sa-ti mentii echilibrul, trebuie sa inveti si sa crezi. Mai presus de tot, trebuie sa crezi. In inceputuri noi, in vise imposibile caci numai asa le vei face posibile, le vei face realitatea pe care o credeai utopica. Dar, acum, ma intreb oare eu am invatat mai mult sau pur si simplu am descoperit niste banalitati care existau in mine si eu, datorita unui fapt pe care nu mi-l pot explica, negam existenta lor? Nu stiu daca vad sau nu, nu stiu daca vad o realitate sau o iluzie, nu stiu daca trebuie sa cred sau daca trebuie sa-mi acopar urechile, insa stiu ca simt … tot mai puternic … mai energic … mai viu…
Ce-ai fi dacă ai fi(nu ce ai vrea sa fii, ci ce ai fi):
O piesă de îmbrăcăminte: Un maieu negru dantelat, pe care-l porti atunci cand vrei sa te simti speciala si admirata.
O pereche de încălţări: Probabil o pereche de conversi funky, care sa fie impreuna cu tine si la bine si la rau.
O bijuterie: O cruce de argint, cu pietre negre. Doua credinte in una.
O carte: The Picture of Dorian Gray (de Oscar Wilde). “I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.”
Un artist: Proabil o scriitoare sau o muziciana, cu suflet secatuit, prins intre 2 carari ale creatiei, intre inspiratie si uitare.
O melodie/piesă/cântec: Alice Cooper – Poison (I want to hurt you / Just to hear you screaming my name) – despre dragoste obsesiva.
Un film: Dangerous Beauty
O ţară: Egipt – crezi ca-l cunosti si afli ca de fapt nu stii nimic, ca mai sunt mistere de aflat, aventuri de trait, personalitati de descoperit.
Un oraş: Amsterdam – un oras despre care se credea a fi a tuturor posibilitatilor, o oaza de creativitate si excentrism.
Un obiect: o masca – pentru acele momente in care vrei sa seduci necunoscutul
Yes! I was laughing. It was a fake. Oh, how I’ve been lying, and what a fool you’ve been. And you’ve believed eveything. How can you be so blind?
And, oh, how you’ve made me cry. And now you atone? Have your sins been to heavy? Are they heavier than mine? Say what you must but I shall not go back. I never go back. Things never go back.
Cum sa iubesti un loc? Din toata inima si cu toata pasiunea. Il caut pentru ca ma face sa simt ca traiesc, ca numai acolo exist cu adevarat, ca masca mea s-a pierdut undeva pe drum si ca voi intra pura si nestingherita. E complicele gandurilor si martorul aventurilor mele.
Cand sarut parca totul se raceste astfel incat sa simt doar caldura persoanei care imi este alaturi.
Cand ascult cum ea imi canta , parca totul se linisteste, sunetele se afunda in surdina si tot ce rasuna e vocea clara si melodioasa.
Cand privesc, parca cerul isi schimba culoare astfel incat sa fie si mai albastru, sa scoata in evidenta culoarea ochilor lui.
Cand ating parca totul devine imaterial, conturul lumii inconjuratoare creionandu-se dupa imaginatia mea.
Si pot sa visez. Si pentru cateva clipe pot sa uit ca totul nu e decat un vis si sa cred ca exista cu adevarat.
Ca talpile ma vor durea la fel fie de voi calca pe pietre sau pe nisip.
Ca soarele ma va orbi cu aceeasi intensitate fie el deasupra marii sau deasupra cladirilor obosite
Ca vantul va vuia la fel fie printre panzele unei corabii sau printre copacii infloriti.
About the vile 