I am made of several masks. One mask I put on when im with family, one for work, one for the gym, for the xitter. In all this idk if there is anything real underneath.
Mishima’s death poem written the same day he committed seppuku:
A small night storm blows
Saying ‘falling is the essence of a flower’
Preceding those who hesitate
“We are too many. War is a Malthusian operation. […] War evens the score. It creates a vacuum so we can breathe better. […] And it gets rid of an infinite number of men who lived because they were born”
Amiamo la guerra, Giovanni Papini
(1914)