mortuarybees reblogged
the sea is the earth’s most haunted environment. the density of ghosts per square metre is unparalleled. every tide is a time machine. every whale song is a spirit box
mortuarybees reblogged
>100,000 notes - mass market slop
10,000 notes - well executed crowd pleaser
1,000 notes - cult classic
100 notes - uncompromising avant-garde art for those of discerning taste
10 notes - misunderstood genius that the culture is not yet ready for
1 note - direct admission of suicidal ideation
katmai national park bear cams I need you now more than ever.....
mortuarybees reblogged
please please please let me get what i want september
please please please let me get what i want march
mortuarybees reblogged
I’m actually remarkably chill considering I’m consistently under the spells of many wizards
mortuarybees reblogged
The Twilight Zone The After Hours | 1.34
mortuarybees reblogged
mortuarybees reblogged
after what he did in iraq?
mortuarybees reblogged
Ernest Martin Hennings (American, 1886-1956), Fishermen mending nets, Port of Vigo, Spain. Oil on canvas board, 14 x 14 in.
mortuarybees reblogged
so i'm on the royal museum greenwich's online collection of polar artifacts looking at the items recovered from the gladman point skeleton site again. as one does.
and like... well perhaps i am crazy but does the brown scratchy part on the right side not seem as though that would be exactly the spot where your thumb would rest, if you were holding the comb (folded up) in your closed hand....... like .... ok can you just go on this walk with me for a second. lets all imagine that
- you know that you are going to leave camp and die out on the shale and not come back and you're choosing that option on purpose because the expedition has so badly fallen apart there's nothing else to do
- and you decide you are going to die while carrying your semi-recently deceased husband's wallet (containing his notes and diary and poetry and ID papers) above your heart, tucked between your shirt and your waistcoat
- but you are not literate and don't even have the means to write something down anyways, so you can't add any notes into henry's wallet for safekeeping
- and you knew that he died terrified of being forgotten and would upset with you if you died without letting anyone know who you were, too
- and you remember that eventually someone somewhere will search for the expedition, and would check the hms terror muster and see names and occupations
- so you get dressed in your steward's uniform and start shoving a steward's tools into your coat pockets. just to really make it clear that you were a steward.
- and you leave camp and get separated and eventually become lost
- but it takes a fucking while to walk and walk and walk until you drop dead and so you have a while to think about things
- and the whole time you're walking out and getting lost and feeling miserable and doomed and heartbroken and antsy, you've got your hands shoved in your pocket to protect against the cold
- and you've got one hand wrapped around this stupid folded haircomb and you're scratching your thumbnail into the lacquer case of it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and ov--
- until you fell down and facedown died as you walked along
- and the comb stayed like that in your pocket until 125 years later, when someone finally found you and managed to pull it out from between your disarticulated, frozen, sun-bleached bones
that would be soooo fucked up right............. anyways it was probably just rocks and shale scratching it i guess..... maybe an animal gnawed on it a bit........ or like. yknow. the terrain + arctic tundra environment took its toll after the protective layer of Body And Clothes were degraded and destroyed over time etc.....
mortuarybees reblogged
Every time we see mark and Gemma in the flashback, they’re doing something mundane. Something unpleasant or boring that we all wish we could skip. Mark and Gemma meeting while giving blood, cut to Gemma on the testing floor getting blood drawn. Mark and Gemma bonding over work, grading papers together, doing dishes, all the boring things that lumon is trying to sever out of a life. But if they couldn’t remember giving blood, they wouldn’t remember meeting. If they couldn’t remember work, they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. All these boring, unpleasant, painful, mundane tasks that lead to greater joy, that make up a life. You can’t cut out any of it without losing everything.
mortuarybees reblogged
Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee
mortuarybees reblogged
every other week a beautiful beloved mutual of mine pulls yet another offputting white guy outta their ass and puts him on my dash with the fervour of an ancient crackpot philosopher hammering his new doctrine onto the temple doors
mortuarybees reblogged
Franny Choi, from "I Guess By Now I Thought I’d Be Done With Shame"
mortuarybees reblogged
A Place in the Sun (1951)
Source: roseydoux
mortuarybees reblogged
Thomas Cardinal Lawrence when he doesn't resign post the Conclave: