ā I loved my wounds, not because they hurt but because they were like a gun in my pocket. They gave me a power that no one knew I had. Maybe, I thought, I should just exercise that power now. Maybe I should give up on this idea of a last hurrah. Why bother? If I was going to die, then did it really matter how I spent my final hour? Cavorting in the arms of a prostitute or walking down Fifth Avenue drinking a lemonadeāwhat did it matter?" - Supervert, Necrophilia Variations Art by Miles Johnston










