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A review by xengisa
Star by Yukio Mishima
3.0
- Just as evil never dies, neither does the sentimental. Like a suckerfish clinging to the belly of a shark, threads of permanence cling to the underbelly of all formulaic poetry. It comes as a false shadow, the refuse of originality. It's the light that flashes from a tin roof with a tawdry grace. A tragic swiftness only the superficial can possess. That elaborate beauty and pathos offered only be an undiscerning soul. A crude confession, like a sunset that backlights clumsy silhouettes. I love any story guarded by these princicples, with this poetry at its core.
- Given the choice, I'd much rather have a girl masturbating somewhere to my picture than actually trying to sleep wih me. Real love always plays out at a distance.
- I was once more overtaken by a deep fatigue; my thoughts returned to death. If I was going to die, now would be as good a time as any. Rather than a death cushioned by pleasure, I would die embracing a despicable filth. Cheek in the futter, curled up against the corpse of a stray cat.
- Do you want to be human now like everybody else? Stop being so predictable. The real world can't wait for you to die. And maybe for me, too... That's its plan. It wants to cleanse the planet by eradicating everything that contradicts it vision.
- Given the choice, I'd much rather have a girl masturbating somewhere to my picture than actually trying to sleep wih me. Real love always plays out at a distance.
- I was once more overtaken by a deep fatigue; my thoughts returned to death. If I was going to die, now would be as good a time as any. Rather than a death cushioned by pleasure, I would die embracing a despicable filth. Cheek in the futter, curled up against the corpse of a stray cat.
- Do you want to be human now like everybody else? Stop being so predictable. The real world can't wait for you to die. And maybe for me, too... That's its plan. It wants to cleanse the planet by eradicating everything that contradicts it vision.