Just two months ago, I met the woman of my dreams for the first time in my life. And it wasn’t the beauty that I had always felt destined to be found, but a monstrous human being; a beast. A façade of cruelness and aloofness that was obviously nothing but a performance, and it was what attracted me all the more. Why is it I always fall for those who don’t want me invited in? Am I predatory for being so curious? Or is it that I’ve always possessed this masochistic infatuation with the unknown? Maybe I just feel damaged, and I see those with this kind of persona as being on a similar level of abused. Last night, while in bed, I stared at the ceiling as it looked ghostly pale in the night and realized that what I could easily be likened to is a werewolf in search of his fellow lycan. Maybe we could both supply the full moons for one another and swing open exits from this constant performance art. Or maybe I’m convincing myself into believing my own fiction. As the years go by and I get older and older, I feel that I keep losing grip more and more with which side of myself is reality. – ‘Werewolf’, short story

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, / blue skies from pain. / Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? / A smile from a veil? / Do you think you can tell? / And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? / Hot ashes for trees? / Hot air for a cool breeze? / Cold comfort for change? / And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? / How I wish, how I wish you were here. / We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, / Running over the same old ground. / What have we found? The same old fears. / Wish you were here. – Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here’

If a man can bridge the gap between life and death, if he can live on after he’s dead, then maybe he was a great man. The only greatness for man is immortality, and the only way to reach immortality is to live on in the minds of those who continue to have beating hearts. – James Dean

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well / That, for all they care, I can go to hell, / But on earth indifference is the least / We have to dread from man or beast / How should we like it were stars to burn / With a passion for us we could not return? / If equal affection cannot be, / Let the more loving one be me / Admirer as I think I am / Of stars that do not give a damn, / I cannot, now I see them, say / I missed one terribly all day / Were all stars to disappear or die, / I should learn to look at an empty sky / And feel its total dark sublime, / Though this might take me a little time – W.H. Auden’s ‘The More Loving One’’

Do you remember last summer at Cape Cod? Do you remember one night in the dining room, there was this young naval officer and he was sitting near our table with two other officers? The waiter brought him a message during dinner, at which point he left, nothing rings a bell? Well, I first saw him that morning in the lobby. He was checking into the hotel and he was following the bellboy with his luggage to the elevator. He glanced at me as he walked past, just a glance, nothing more. And I could hardly move. That afternoon Helena went to the movie with her friend and you and I made love and we made plans about our future and we talked about Helena and yet at no time was he ever out of my mind. And I thought that if he wanted me, even if it was only for one night, I was ready to give up everything. You, Helena, my whole fucking future, everything. And yet it was weird because at the same time, you were dearer to me than ever, and at that moment my love for you was both tender and sad. I barely slept that night. I woke up the next morning in a panic. I don’t know if I was afraid that he had left or that he might still be there. But by dinner I realized he was gone. And I was relieved. – Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Eyes Wide Shut’

In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel, / Lookin’ to get fucked hard / Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, / Life imitates art / You got that medicine I need, / Dope, shoot it up, straight to the heart please / I don’t really wanna know what’s good for me / God’s dead, I said ‘baby that’s alright with me’ / No one’s gonna take my soul away, / I’m living like Jim Morrison / Headed towards a fucked up holiday / Motel, sprees sprees, and I’m singing; / Fuck yeah, give it to me, this is heaven, what I truly want / It’s innocence lost / Innocence lost / When you talk it’s like a movie and you’re making me crazy, / Cause life imitates art / If I get a little prettier, can I be your baby? / You tell me life isn’t that hard – Lana Del Rey’s ‘Gods and Monsters’

I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away… – Kurt Cobain

In the chapel lights again / Surrounded by images / Of Jesus faces and affection from the virgin / Strings are elevating / Touching the ceiling / What is this feeling? / What is this that I’m feeling? / Bizarre, beautiful, surreal creature on the steeple / Dancing to the echoes of the carpenter’s approvals / Transfixed in a mix of movements of the holy whore / Arms stretched to the sky, looking like a set of horns / Flames in the stainglass zombified to burn fast / Empty souls paying tolls to fill holes in Da Vinci’s gaps / Gazes are replaced by Karina’s eyes behind black bars / Censored, halo on her head, bonafide superstar / Here were are, Here. Here we are / Our palms developing stigmatic scars / Hear us now, oh, hear us now / As our knees fall to the ground / We lose control over our mouths / And we begin to let out the orgasmic serpent sounds – ‘Serpent Charm’, song

Do you plan on, like, your wife and kids living with you and your mom? Pretty soon you’re going to be 25. Then 30. And then 40. And then you’re going to kick over dead. You say live as you go, but that’s the thing… It’s like we’re waiting for something to happen but we’re not… doing anything. We’re not even living as we go, we’re just fucking statues. – ‘The Vaughn Sister’, film

Shiny, shiny / shiny boots of leather / Whiplash girlchild in the dark / Comes in bells, your servant, don’t forsake him / Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart / Downy sins of streetlight fancies / Chase the costumes she shall wear / Ermine furs adorn the imperious / Severin, Severin awaits you there / I am tired / I am weary / I could sleep for a thousand years / A thousand dreams that would awake me / Different colors made of tears – The Velvet Underground’s ‘Venus in Furs’

The horse and the beauty in the sound of its grace. To man’s ear, the hooves are heard as the beast prances amongst the ground and the neighing of its vocals are imitated as if no soul lives behind their black eyes. But the original sound that emanates forth from the creature is one of a subtle hearing. The rolling of the earth itself as the hair of the beast dances with swirls and zigzags against the wind that presses upon the body during a freedom-filled run. Now, robbed of such freshness, the horse stands knee-deep in its own shit, those black eyes slowly fading into a milky white before transparency finally grits its filthy teeth. A specific sheet of notes played a tune of fantasy for a walking louder man who searched for his own satisfaction in the intestines of the animal. This song has yet to be forgiven. – ‘Snake’, film