Eli Wilde > Eli's Quotes

“Love changes because it needs to feed and anything with an appetite, can't be trusted...”
― Eli Wilde, Cruel

“She said she was a clairvoyant. She saw dead people. She saw things even before she was born.”
― Eli Wilde, Cruel

“I tried to write my own words. They were not like the words in the songs. My words were ugly. My words were wrong.”
― Eli Wilde, Cruel

“The mirror looked at me, and hated what it saw.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“I realised then that I didn’t want to block out the sunlight. I wanted to block out the world.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Happiness is merely the liminal space between ignorance and understanding.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“I screamed last night, and felt the sharp, reflective elements boring into my skull. I felt such deep, intense devotions, the kind of emotions it is only possible to experience in nightmares. But I was not dreaming, I could not sleep. I was wide awake. In pain. Debating with my own reflection which one of us should own our veins.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Glass always drew my eyes, or my mind. That reflection — the mirror, and the Other Body inside it. I wanted to turn off my mind but it was impossible. So many terrible, monstrous things buzzed around inside of it like electric knife blades, cutting, cutting, cutting.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Bats eating moths, or bats eating bats, it was all the same — beauty devoured beauty.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Acting is my whole life. It’s this one thing I am good at. But what if it isn’t good at me? I don’t look like an actor, actors are supposed to be beautiful. I look like me. And that isn’t good enough.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“I looked around again, quickly left, quickly right. There was someone around me. Something. In the shop windows, faint and ghostly faces gazing out. Directly at me no matter which side of the empty space I looked upon. Once again the darkness and the impossible distance obstructed my ability to discern any detailed features, leaving me alone with only vague ideas of the inhuman human form.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“The pane of glass separating me from my family. I didn’t think they could understand, even now. It wasn’t possible. I said one thing and it became something else. They said one thing and maybe that became something else too. Refractions of voice bouncing from torment to torment. I wasn’t right for this world.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“This could have gone on for years. Me having my brain torn apart by sensations, thoughts and feelings of somatic torment at the hands of an Other Body in its mirror. Family and friends wanting to help — I assumed that was so, at least — but failing in the specifics. This glass between us making the seen, unseen, the seeing, unseeing. Making the outspoken voiceless and the listening deaf. Making the caring confused and the cared for distraught. Like an exile trapped in a labyrinth of glass panes splitting me off from my society and my tribe, no matter which direction I turned, no matter which impossible hallway I travelled down I was always separated from reflections of some other world where people could be happy, and safe, and understand their own inner workings well enough to voice them in the form of words.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Words being spoken with my mouth, my face, yet the brain behind them had no idea of their content or meaning. The un-remembered noise reverberated within the cavities of my ears, and I could feel it despite my confusion about the rest of me. I needed to get out, now. And I was taking the faceless man with me.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“And the wind is not wind, it is the breath of refracted light, chilling me with its memories.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“I want to see, I want to see, I want to see you dying.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep forever — especially if there would be no dreams.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“That was the strange thing about the communicative abilities of living creatures. Real language had no real meaning. As long as the two souls in communion with one another had a mutual understanding of the way things were in the universe. That was enough to understand.”
― Michael F Simpson, Hypnagogia

“Oh, they claimed to worship this art, as you do now. Then they picked up their axes and hacked it to pieces and turned on those who would create it. Every thing of beauty detested. Every message ignored. Every passion shunned. Then, they prayed to their art again.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“Metal surrounded by gore, flesh replaced with metal, metal replaced with flesh, gore turned into metal, and metal hollowed out into gore. It repeated, twisted, subverted, repeated again every time Alysse’s fingers snapped like firecrackers and the Mask of Scorn covered her face.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“Their surrealist, dadaist insect structures. Not quite mechanical. Not quite natural. Far too strange to belong in either world. And their colours! The boldest, most vibrant shades of green, blue, red, yellow. Each manifesting in only a single one. Burning with brilliantly compelling spectrums of light as they fluxed and synapsed around the recollection of their setting.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“So, she promised them with as much passion as she brought with her to this system. It was the only way they would let her trade beaches for galaxies.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“Alysse couldn’t describe exactly what it was, but it resembled speaking only superfluously. She was so immersed in the noise that the words Lips was using didn’t register.

There was melody. Power. An entire spectrum — maybe more than one — of emotional needles. And it did something to her. Made her feel… something. Something incredible.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“I like to visit the past in my waking moments also, by walking into the very plasma of a flame and bleeding my dreams into its burning heart. It is powerful enough, and my memory is photographic enough, that I can essentially walk through Time’s embrace. Watch the past play out in front of me, so to speak. If I try hard enough, I could bring you with me.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“The PATIENT stops crying. Not because his grief has waned. Rather, the discomfort has so drained his ability to do anything but shiver in his chair, subject to PROFESSOR CHILBLAIN’s ways.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers

“Your emotions. Vile things. A Pigsgift — produce from a blasphemous deity of defiance. We were meant to be hollow things. But do not worry. One day this decadence, this evil, shall be taken away from you, a final act by higher powers. Servants to the Flesh. And on this day, you shall be free from your inhibitions.”
― Michael F Simpson, Doppelgängers