Georg Trakl (1887 – 1914)
Francis Michael Sharp – The Poet’s Madness; a reading of Georg Trakl:
On one occasion, Trakl allegedly threw himself in front of a frightened horse. At another point early in his life, apparently prompted once more by an abhorrence of rapid motion. He stepped into the path of a moving train. The circumstances and aftermath of these two events are not recorded. The third event has been interfered both as absent-mindedness an as an “expression of a psychotic situation.” Sometime between the ages of five and eight, Trakl walked directly into a pond until he disappeared under water. His hat floating on the surface provided his rescuers the only indication where he could be found, and he was pulled to safety.
Egon Schiele (1890 – 1918)
Wolfgang Georg Fischer – Egon Schiele, Desire and Decay:
In 1910 a gynaecologist friend, Erwin von Graff, secured Schiele access to the university gynaecological clinic, and there he found his material for a realistic unmasking of the traditional iconography of children. Newborn Baby (1910) was one of the drawings Schiele did at this time. The baby’s head is outsize, the body rickety, the movements of the hands and legs as yet uncoordinated. Schiele drew the baby’s hair standing on end, its facial features distorted and its half-closed eyes fixed in an expression that seems one of horror and suffering. Its belly is like a limp, leathery bag, and its navel is like a wound, a hole in the body. The red scrotum looks ulcerous between the spread, bluish legs, and the thin, purpled arms reaching out to the shoulders look cramped. This is the human child as homunculus. Schiele saw newborn infants as shrivelled ancients with grief in their eyes, as if they were afraid of beginning their journey through the worldly vale of tears.
Kimitake Hiraoka (1925 – 1970)
John Nathan – Mishima; a biography:
The body did not come home until four the following afternoon, and since the crematorium closed at five, there was scarcely time for the final “leave-taking.” As he had requested in his will, Mishima was dressed in his Shield Society uniform, a military sword laid across his chest. At the last moment Yoko placed some manuscript paper and his fountain pen in the coffin with him. Only Azusa and Yoko’s father, Nei Sugiyama, accompanied the body to the crematorium.
The following day the house was open to friends who came to light incense to Mishima’s memory. Yoko greeted and looked after the guests whose acquaintance with the house had begun after Mishima’s marriage; Shizue took care of older friends. One had come with a bouquet of white roses. As he stood in front of the Buddhist altar looking up at Mishima’s photograph, Shizue said from behind, “You should have brought red roses for a celebration. This was the first time in his life Kimitake did something he always wanted to do. Be happy for him”.
David Wojnarowicz (1954 – 1992)
David Wojnarowicz – From the Diaries of a Wolf Boy:
Sometimes I wish I could blow myself up. Wrap a belt of dynamite around my fucking waist and walk into a cathedral or the Oval Office or the home of my mother and father. I’m in the last row of the bus, the seven other passengers are clustered like flies around the driver in the front. I can see his cute fuckable face in the rearview mirror. I lean back and tilt my head so all I see are the clouds in the sky. I’m looking back inside my head with my eyes wide open. I still don’t know where I’m going; I decided I’m not crazy or alien. It’s just that I’m more like one of those kids they find in remote jungles or forests of India. A wolf child. And they’ve dragged me into this fucking schizo-culture, snarling and spitting and walking around on curled knuckles. They’re trying to give me a damp mattress to sleep on in a dark corner when all I really want is the rude perfume of some guy’s furry underarms and crotch to lean into. I’ll make guttural sounds and stop eating and drinking and I’ll be dead within the year. My eyes have always been advertisements for an early death.
Ian Kevin Curtis (1956 – 1980)
Paul Morley – Nothing:
I’m sure that the he that once livened up this body would have been pleased with the pose and the shadow of death that grazed it. Film stars and pop stars and models work hard to create such a cold and splendid pose. Working too hard to achieve such poses can often lead, what with one thing and another, to an early, controversial death. The earlier the death, the better, the more tragic, this final pose. The neat black marks crossing the neck of the body of the man who died early and was truly in front of me only succeeded in increasing the depressed glory of the final pose. The black marks that danced on the body’s neck like some gothically extravagant beauty spot drew attention to the damned flawlessness of everything else, emphasising with sick, magnificent force that this was indeed – as he would have wanted, if he had chosen – a good-looking corpse.
Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer (1960 – 1994)
Brian Masters – The Shrine of Jeffrey Dahmer: After a while, Jeff felt he knew David well enough to bring him into part of his private little world. In his solitary moments, which were frequent, he had dreamt up a game involving stick men and spirals. The stick men were spindly figures who would be annihilated if they came too close to one another, as each boy manipulated his little army. The spirals were tightly drawn, intensely imagined symbols of descent, whose ultimate destination was a black hole. He called the game Infinity Land.
Per Yngve Ohlin (1969 - 1991)
Dead quoted in Michael Moynihan’s and Didrik Söderlind’s Lords of Chaos: I had a weird experience once. I had inner bleeding and it couldn’t be found at X-rays so when it continued to bleed and bleed I finally fainted and dropped down to the floor cos I run out of blood. The heart had no blood left to beat and my veins/arteries almost emptied of blood. “Technically” I was dead. At that moment when I fell down (into a door, I heard later), I saw a strange blue color everywhere - it was transparent so I could for a short moment see everything in blue, till something shining white and "hot" surrounded me
... it’s someone I know who’s had many out-of-body experiences and knows much more than I do about "supernatural" experience, that I asked this cos it was so strange about those colors. She told me that the first “plane” in the astral world has the color blue. The earthly plane has the color of black. Then comes a gray that is very near the earthly one and is easy to come to. The next one further is blue, then it gets brighter and brighter till it “stops” at a white shining one that can’t be entered by mortals. If any mortal succeeds in entering it, that one is no longer mortal and can not come back to the earthly planes nor back to this earth. After the white plane… it goes further with other colors that I don’t know of – there only spirits and great sorcerers can travel. I was told that the white plane I then entered, without knowing it, was the deadworld, and I had died.
Eric David Harris (1981 – 1999)
REB quoted in Jefferson County, Columbine Documents: It will be like the LA riots, the Oklahoma bombing, WWII, Vietnam, duke, and doom all mixed together. maybe we will even start a little rebellion or revolution to fuck things up as much as we can. i want to leave a lasting impression on the world, and god damnit do not blame anyone else besides me and V for this. don't blame my family, they had no clue and there is nothing they could have done, they brought me up just fucking fine. don't blame toy stores or any other stores for selling us ammo, bomb materials, or anything like that because it's not their fault. i don't want no fucking laws on buying fucking PVC pipes. we are kind of a select case here so don't think this will happen again. don't blame the school, don't fucking put cops all over the place, just because we went on a killing spree doesn't mean everyone else will, and hardly ever do people bring bombs or guns to school anyway. the admin is doing a fine job as it is. i don't know who will be left after we kill but damnit don't change any policies just because of us. it would be stupid, and if there is any way in this fucked up universe we can come back as ghosts or what the fuck ever we will haunt the life out of anyone who blames anyone besides me and V…