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Delirium is the name of a character, based off of Tori, in Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman" comics. Neil, a close friend of Tori's, is a fantasy writer, who has written novels and comics; most notable is "The Sandman." He tends to pop up in Tori's lyrics every now and then, in much the same way that Tori pops up in his comics through Delirium.
Neil's appearances in Tori's music
The Sandman:
A description of Delirium:
A section Tori wrote about Delirium for the Sandman Book of Dreams:
"What you need to know before you start: There are seven beings that aren't gods. Who existed before humanity dreamed of gods and will exist after the last god is dead. They are called The Endless. They are embodiments of (in order of age) Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair and Delirium."
- Excerpt from Season of Mists: a prologue
"Delirium is the youngest of the endless.
She smells of sweat, sour wines, late nights, old leather.
Her realm is close and can be visited; however human minds were not made to conprehend her domain, and those few who have made the journey have been incapable of reporting back more than the tiniest fragments.
The poet Coleridge claimed to have known her intimately, but the man was an inveterate liar and in this, as in so much, we must doubt his word.
Her appearance is the most variable of all the Endless, who, at best, are ideas cloaked in the semblace of flesh. her shadow's shape and outline has no relationship to that of any body she wears, and it is tangible like old velvet.
Some say the tragedy of Delirium is her knowlede that, despite being older than suns, older than gods, she is forever the youngest of the Endless, who do not measure time as we measure time, or see the worlds through mortal eyes.
Others deny this, and say that Delirium has no tragedy, but here they speak without reflection.
For Delirium was once Delight. And although that was long ago now, even today her eyes are badly matched: one eye is a vivid emerald green, spattered with silver flecks that move. The other eye is vein blue.
Who knows what Delirium sees, through her mismatched eyes?"
-Season of Mists, Neil Gaiman
It's funny but on good days I don't think of her so much.
In fact never. I never just say hi when the sun is on my tongue and my belly's all warm.
On bad days I talk to Death constantly, not about suicide because honestly that's not dramatic anough.
Most of us love the stage, and suicide is definately your last performance, and, being addicted to the stage, suicide was never an option--
plus people get to look you over and stare at your fatty bits and you can't cross your legs to five that flattering thigh angle and that's depressing.
So we talk.
She says things no one else seems to come up with, like let's have a hot dog, and then it's like nothing's impossible.
She told me once that there is a part of her in everyone,
though Neil believes I'm more Delirium than Tori,
and Death taught me to accept that, you know, wear your butterflies with pride.
And when I do accept that, I know Death is somewhere inside of me.
She was the kind of girl all the girls wanted to be,
I believe,
because of her acceptance of "what is".
She keeps reminding me there is change in the "what is:
but change cannot be made till you accept the "what is."
Like yesterday, all the recording machines were breaking down again.
We almost lost a master take and the band leaves tomorrow
and we can't do any more music till we resolve this.
We're in the middle of nowhere in the desert and my being wants to go crawl under a cactus and wish it away.
Instead, I dyed my hair and she visited me and I started to accept the mess I'm in.
I know that mess spelled backwards is ssem,
and I felt much better armed with that information.
Over the last few hours I've allowed myself to feel defeated,
and just like she said,
if you allow yourself to feel the way you really feel, maybe you won't be afraid of that feeling anymore.
When you're on your knees you're closer to the ground.
Things seem nearer somehow.
If all I can say is I'm not in this swamp,
I'm not in this swamp,
then there is not a rope in front of me
and there is not an alligator behind me
and there is not a girl sitting at the edge eating a hot dog,
and if I believe that, then dying would be the only answer
because then Death couldn't come and say Peachy to me anymore
and, after all, she has a brother who believes in hope."
