you know those people who are just luminous, like they’re so beautiful and everything they do is endearing and all you can do is stare and hope that some of their light hits you someday. maybe it’s not even romantic but they’re just such people, they’re humans, and they’re so beautiful that you cannot make yourself look away
Seldom did I see my feet in black socks. I knew almost nothing personally about my feet. They looked rather small for the twenty-first century. Bad luck. But six feet was still a good height.
Lestat de Lioncourt, Blood Canticle (via i-want-my-iwtv)
#THAT QUOTE ABOUT HIS FOOT SIZE INSECURITY #biggest baby #small feet complex #like he is already convincing himself that his height makes up for it #as if ANYONE NOTICED EXCEPT HIM
Loving a wild thing is like having a lion for a pet. You know it’s a creature of violence whose very nature and talent is murder; yet it lies down at your side and purrs for your touch alone.
“Do you know what I think about crying? I think some people have to learn to do it. But once you learn, once you know how to really cry, there’s nothing quite like it. I feel sorry for those who don’t know the trick. It’s like whistling or singing.”
Anthropologist David Gilmore has proposed the idea that, in most cultures, monsters assist people in “awakening…to their own values and moral traditions.” If so, then in a communal society, perhaps the wendigo is the embodiment of hunger’s selfishness. It does not run in packs or pair off to mate and raise offspring; rather, the wendigo stalks the wilderness alone, attuned only to the black hole of its gullet.
But monsters leave the liminal space of one culture’s nightmares and enter the rest of the world where they are appropriated and changed to suit other fears and fancies. For those of us raised on the tender vampires of Anne Rice and Stephenie Meyers, there’s also a strange romance in untrammeled hunger. After all, ravenousness is metaphoric as well as literal. We conflate physical hunger with romantic desire in ten thousand pop songs, and who among us has not looked at a beloved and wanted to consume them?
In a different mirror, the wendigo’s insatiableness might be a manifestation of loneliness, a kind of desire for connection that has metastasized.
On this day in horror history, Interview with the Vampire was released in 1994.
Fair warning: I’m extremely partial and biased toward Anne Rice and Tom Cruise. Sorry in advance if you want to throw up in your mouth from my gushing BUT….
This is my most favorite vampire movie ever made. I love Anne Rice’s vampires – the elegance, the complexity, the imminent danger.
This is one of the few movies that I like that is based on a book. The cast is phenomenal. Everyone is beautiful. Tom Cruise is still beautiful when he’s just a rotten carcass playing the piano.
My favorite line is:
“Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves.”
This is a beautiful movie and the whole series is beautiful. And best of all, she’s writing again, finally.
Now, go be enthralled by The Brat Prince.
Tom Cruise is still beautiful when he’s just a rotten carcass playing the piano.
“I lifted the long wax wick, dipped it into an old flame, and
carried the fire to a fresh candle, watched the little tongue grow
orange and bright.
What a miracle, I thought. One tiny flame could make so many
other flames; one tiny flame could set afire a whole world. Why, I
had, with this simple gesture, actually increased the sum total of
light in the universe, had I not?
…«But why, Lestat?»
Because she was beautiful, because she was dying, because I
wanted to see if it would work. Because nobody wanted her and she was
there, and I picked her up and held her in my arms. Because it was
something I could accomplish, like the little candle flame in the
church making another flame and still retaining its own light – my way
of creating, my only way, don’t you see? One moment there were two of
us, and then we were three.
…«Are we close to God when we create something out of
nothing? When we pretend we are the tiny flame and we make other
flames?»
… I dipped it into an old flame, and made a new one burst
into being, hot and yellow and finally steady, giving off the sharp
perfume of burnt wax. I was about to say the words «For Gretchen,»
when I realized that it was not for her at all that I had lighted the
candle.
For Claudia, my precious beautiful Claudia? No, not for her
either, much as I loved her …
I knew the candle was for me.”– Lestat de Lioncourt, Tale of the Body Thief
So I lit a candle for a fictional character on his birthday at a real cathedral mentioned as a location in canon #NO REGRETS
When my eyes meet his gaze as we’re sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Those eyes are piercing mine, and I can swear at this moment he senses the real me. The one without the attitude, without the facade
I-want-my-IWTV 