my father

my father was known by a few nicknames but one of them was rasputin and that's the one that affected what i was called ~ yes, rasputin's daughter.

question:have you ever been in love?

diana: oh yes. a few times. and in very different ways.

question: i've been in love.

diana: have you? did you enjoy it? how did it work out for you?

question: not that well; how about you?

diana: i'm not sure that the inlove thing is supposed to work out well. the whole thing is so angsty how can that end up in a good place?

question: some people seem to be able to ~

diana: for awhile.

question: that would be ok.

diana: how long would be good for you?

question: i think about twenty years is good, maybe twenty five.

diana: the problem with that, is, of course, at the end of that time, neither of you has the verve to go elsewhere so twenty turns into forty but the second twenty are pretty much a wash.

question: it's a conundrum alright. who nicknamed your father rasputin?

diana: i'm not sure.

question: because no one could kill him.

diana: yeah, and because he always seemed to have an agenda. he was always working something and it never felt good, whatever he was doing socially or culturally always sort of smelled bad. and the longer he kept those secrets, the more they festered. i think he died of an auto-intoxication of selfhate and rage.