i pray over the fire in room 613, cigarettes are burning and the eclectic souls float here. turn the lights out, look where trouble took you. Manic hands have brought you here.Staying up well passed midnight, this is the haunted ball. "Dia de Los Muertos," she says.
Life is much darker on the wild-side. We celebrate life over here and document obscura images and colors well into the eve. Tonight I painted a dying girl with thick white oils and half a face. I don't know who she is, but she stands for tonight and all the mischief the moon brings us.
oh captin, my captin. swallow this ship.