Since it is Pride Month, I wanted to revisit thirteen films that have stayed with me over the years and left a lasting mark on my imagination.

The films that have shaped me most are often those willing to enter difficult territory: obsession, longing, loneliness, desire, identity, alienation, memory, loss, self-destruction, and the search for belonging. They understand that human beings are rarely simple. Beauty and ugliness, tenderness and cruelty, love and destruction can exist side by side, woven together in ways that resist easy interpretation.

The fact that these films are queer is not incidental. Their gay characters are not interchangeable with any other characters. Their sexuality shapes the worlds they inhabit, the risks they face, the relationships they form, and the ways they experience love, loneliness, desire, and belonging.

There are dreams that arrive like weather. They pass over the town of the mind, leave a dampness on the stones, and move on.

And there are others that do not pass.

They sit.

They take a chair in the dim back room of the house and wait—patient as winter fruit—until the season is right for tasting.

This one sat.

The word ego is often misunderstood.
Many people think it means personality, confidence, or even the self itself. It doesn’t.

The ego is not who you are.
It is the structure you learned to live inside.

Starchild began as a poem from my anthology Before the Day Kills the Night. I didn’t plan to make it a song — it just kept returning, like something unfinished. It carried both darkness and tenderness, and it mirrored the way I see the world. This December, it becomes my first song — a translation of exile into sound.

Science, for all its brilliance, is not the author of existence. It is the scribe. It does not create the sun—it explains its fire.

Nightfall has always held a kind of forbidden allure, a promise that the darkness will reveal what daylight conceals. In Before The Day Kills The Night, each poem is a descent—a whispered invitation into a world where the undead roam, where sinners survive their torment, and where love blurs the line between angels and demons. In this video, I read seven poems that peel back the veil between our world and the shadows beyond.

In the creation of 'Elina’s Casebook,' I often find myself drawn to cases that stir a visceral reaction within me, guided by a combination of gut feeling and the emotional weight they carry. Delving into the complexities of criminal minds, particularly serial killers, has always been a cornerstone of my academic and professional journey.

Into the Abyss: Unveiling "The Line Crossed"

In the shadowy realms of criminal psychology and criminology, few subjects evoke as much fascination and horror as serial killers. These enigmatic figures, often portrayed as the epitome of evil, have haunted society’s nightmares for decades. Yet, the question remains: What drives an ordinary individual to become a serial killer? "The Line Crossed: Society and the Birth of a Serial Killer" seeks to explore this chilling transformation from the fringes of society to the headlines of terror.

Title: Before The Day Kills The Night:

This haunting poetry collection is a hymn to eternal youth and the underworld, exploring the darkest corners of our minds and the beast that resides within us. Each poem is a midnight serenade to the wild, untamed recesses of the psyche, the luminous enchantment of the moon, and the unbridled madness that both frightens and fascinates. Here, the lunatics, the sinners, and the criminals dance in the same pale moonlight. Embrace the night and its eternal residents, as they articulate the silent howl of our inner beasts. This book is a portal to a world where even the damned can find a semblance of sanctity. It’s a poetry collection dedicated to darkness, where every line is a whisper from the abyss, asking us to find beauty in the places we dare not look.