Lament.
It's late
night in NYC ; in the firehouse, too...
darkness in
a heart, a young hurt heart.
If only he
handn't said all those terrible things...
***
In the
middle of a quite night : alone in his bedroom,
wrapped by
everything that had made his own world :
cartoon
heros magz and posters ; children toys ;
sci-fi
movies ; a few ghostbusting equipment ; arcane
books,
between other items. He was sat down in
the top
of the bed
; a pale light of a little night lamp,
iluminating
his worry child face, holding a big toy figure
of his
childhood hero, Dopey Dog, Raymond Standz was thinking
in that
damn afternoon's success...
"I
didn't want to say that, truly I didn't...but I was
angry, very
angry. I don't know why. Because is not
for
you.
Believe me. It's just...it was much
pressure of them.
I didn't
should hear their comments. I did should be more
mature,
more myself, 'cause...ya'know? You're simphatize me
very much ;
you're very pretty nice, lucky guy.
You have
everything that anybody can wish in the life.
I always
thought it."
Taking a
deep breath, continuing with his owns...
"I'm
admire your self-assurance ; the way in which you solve
any kind of
trouble, but most difficult that could be ;
in how you
see the Life : with an innocent, joy eyes...
eyes of
love ; not for only one ; for the entire world...
althought
nobody can understand it. They're think
that
you aren't
more than a charmed no-brain man, who's only
interested
in *to* conquer anyone that crossed your way,
having a
lot of dates in the most short time, just for
maintain
your reputation : a selfish without feelings...
I know that
it's not true."
A silent
moment of reflection, following this way...
"You're
much more than it. You're fighting for put down
the mask
that people were covered your face ; the most
cool
'powerfull-lover' in the city...'cause in your deep,
you're
another man, very different from which they're
insisted on
seeing. You are a capable, spirited,
sensible
man : a
professional in the job, and something wild in
your
personal life...with deep secrets and dreams...and a
great,
great love, that's already difficult to hide.
I never saw
that somebody could love another, like you ;
delivering
in body and soul *to* the object of your affection,
and not an
occasional trip. And the same time, being amazing
devoted to
that feeling.
You give
the life for your owns, and I'm admired, and glad
for it...
I like your
shinny smile ; I enjoy your companion, your jokes ;
your
smartness. You really like me, maybe
more than Egon ;
more than
anybody. You, charming, gorgeous, pretty
emerald
eyes,
'glamour' boy, I..."
A bitter
*and* painful confession appeared in those trembly
lips...
"I
love you, Peter Venkman."
A pair of
tears were fallen down his golden eyes...
Life is not
fear,
life is a
bad joke, but
nobody can
do anything
for to
avoid the pain.
Life is a
bitch.
And it was
raining again...
The end.
(c) 2002.