I've been watching the Godfather III today. I got the trilogy on DVD but haven't watched it yet, III is on television today. During this, I had a revelation of Biblical proportions. These two forces inside me, that lead me to either be a passionate, melodramatic racehorse or a calm, calculative businessman are not unlike Sonny & Michael.

I pride myself on never in my life having been like Connie the fucking snake or Fredo the fucking retard. There are many in the family that already populate these categories. Throughout my life I've mostly been like Sonny. I'm impulsive with a hell of a temper. I'm passionate & impratical. But I can be the life of the party & make curly hair.

I never was like Michael. I'm sure I had it in me, but I never felt the need to be calculating, pragmatic & intuitive. Michael observes, then acts. He has bursts of anger, but they do not last very long ('WHERE MY WIFE SLEEPS! Where my children play with their toys ..). It came out all of a sudden, without warning, without contemplation.

I had to be Michael when my mom died. I had to swallow everything but pride & steer the family into doing what I know my mother would do. I handled everything like a Godfather. I held family meetings, everything went smoothly, & when it didn't, I had someone else take care of it for me. It seems that when my mother left this world she left me with her gift. All the advice she ever gave me on how to handle things turned right into practice ('Never let anyone know what you're thinking').

Sonny died almost completely soon after that. What a wild quarter of a century, I must say. But then Sonny got murdered in broad daylight. The worst week of my entire life left me cold & beaten. & we all know that When Sonny dies, Michael takes over. Sonny made a last appearance sometime in September, then I went on a slow, painful road that led to Michael again. I was on a roll there, for a while.

But even Michael gets weak. Michael makes wrong moves like any other human ('Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in'). The world becomes a beautiful but dangerous display of golds & reds. & when that happens, Sonny takes over, or rather, Vinnie (which is really a cinematic reincarnation of Sonny as we all know, or should). Whatever Sonny/Vinnie has wanted to do for a long time, that's been laying around in the back of my mind, gets done. I fuck things up for myself. I get happy. I fall in love. But when I crumble, Michael takes over again. Only in me, Michael doesn't need to think too much, or rather, doesn't show any thinking. Sonny/Vinnie thinks a hell of a lot, always out loud & for the wrong people to hear.

Michael will show up any day now, I hope ...

I find myself wondering if they'll ever come head to head, & if they do, who will win. It's a sick affair between two ways of feeling that have every right to be there considering the soul they occupy. It's even more sick that I can sit here calmly writing about a struggle I have inside myself that could potentially lead to my complete downfall or complete takeover of the Universe.

No matter which one wins, though, I can guarantee dramatics, sharp clothing & beautiful lighting on the right occasions. I suppose I am a walking trilogy in the classical sense, really. Not the contemporary sense that has bastardised the meaning of the word, not unlike what they have done to 'diva' as well. But I'm not there ... yet.

Wait for iiiit ...