Music:
you crawled into my bed that night like some sort of giant insect and i found myself spellbound at the sight of you beautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuff bluffing your way into my mouth behind my teeth reaching for my scars that night we got kicked out of two bars and laughed our way home that night you leaned over and threw up into your hair and i held you there thinking i would offer you my pulse if i thought it would be useful i would give you my breath except the problem with death is we have some hundred years and then they can build buildings on our only bones a hundred years and your grave is not your own we lie in out beds and our graves unable to save ourselves from the quaint tragedies we invent and then undo from the stupid circumstances we slalom through i realized that night that the hall light which seemed so bright when you turned it on is nothing compared to the dawn which is nothing compared to compared to the light that seeps from me while you're sleeping cocooned in my room beautiful and grotesque, resting that night we got kicked out of two bars and laughed our way home i thought: i would offer you my pulse i would give you my breath i would offer you my pulse...
Movies:
i search your profile for a translation i study the conversation like a map 'cause i know there is strength in the differences between us and i know there is comfort where we overlap come here stand in front of the light stand still so i can see your silhouette i hope you have got all night 'cause i'm not done looking, no, i'm not done looking yet each one of us wants a piece of the action you can hear it in what we say you can see it in what we do we negotiate with chaos for some sense of satisfaction if you won't give it to me at least give me a better view
Books:
(i think i made you up inside my head) i shut my eyes and all the world drops dead i lift my lids and all is born again the stars go waltzing out in blue and red and arbitrary blackness gallops in i dreamed that you bewitched me into bed and sung me moon-struck; kissed me quite insane God topples from the sky hell's fires fade exit seraphim and Satan's men i fancied you'd return the way you said but i grow old and i forget your name i should have loved a thunderbird instead at least when spring comes they roar back again i shut my eyes and all the world drops dead (i think i made you up inside my head)
Heroes:
The eyes especially will be like they were before. Eyes hardly change because they are the windows of the soul. Those whose eyes reflect anger or fear or wickedness should try to change, to remove unlovely qualities that hide and hinder the expression of the beauty of the soul. Owing to the change of environment and company, your mind and body change somewhat. But the eyes change little. You are reborn with the same expression in them. --Paramahansa Yogananda