“This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed—see here it is—
I hold it towards you.”
“Without examples, without models I began to believe voices in my head. That I was a, a freak, that I am broken, that there was something wrong with me, that I will never be lovable.
Years later I find the courage to admit that I am transgendered and that this does not mean that I am unlovable.
That this world that we imagine in this room might be used to gain access to other rooms, to other worlds, previously unimaginable.”
— Lana Wachowski, as heard in “Come Down to Us” by Burial