my brain at any given moment: what? WHAT. It’s morning. I lost time, things got a little heated—with a boy! Things got heated with a BOY. I was at home picking lint off the sofa. I said to join us!—The night’s gone, the room is 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’s tri-anual 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 at a bar ten hours ago!!! what if it was published?!! I was having some fun, I was in the middle of ENDING things, when YOU—You’d 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—Colorless... flavorless… dull. Dull! Dull nights. Dull weeks, dull months. Dull as FUCK! Suffocation, by the world’s softest, beige-est, pillow. The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, were 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 wanna lick my boots?? Orrrr chop my hands off?? Is it the gremlin, or the good nurse tonight? Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I, as boring, as the bLAther, committed on to the ferric tapes of your FASCINATING BOY. Oh its so, so hard to be me!! (Picking LINT??? Off the SOFA????) It’s so hard to kill hUmaans, I can feel their feelings, as I drain them! I’m Louis de Pointe du Lac, it’s so hard to be me. Everyone I know wrongs me! Okay, 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, he tossed himself off a roof! My sister, she buried me alive! My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow—when he didn't look at me kindly—Lestat Lestat Lestat Lestat Lestat Lestat LestatLestatLestatLestatLestat—I talked shit about him the whole time! THE NAME!!!! THE NAME. unuttered in our home, for TWENTY-THREE 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 alwayscircledbacktohim. I loved her! But SHE didn’t love YOU. Not like he did, not like I have!! I know. I KNOW… yes! I know!