I wish you knew me, Jack of Diamonds.
Spirit of the Night (1952) by Remedios Varo
The threat of death changed me. I’m in love with pointless excess. I expect the impossible. I want to walk on some thin slice of land between memory and fantasy, embroidering the sand with my bad ideas, filaments of hope, strands of resentment, curling loops of lust, licked by waves of self-satisfaction.
We get …