Come all without, come all within

The open casket rests peacefully silent in the room of murmur and mourning. The man with a white collar lowers his eyes on the deceased, and the hood of the coffin follows. In that moment, death incases itself in with the departed. Confined. Sliding his black limbs around the body, now just a corpse. Becoming one.

No, not like this. Not without a fight.

The body flings itself against the inside of the casket. In an attempt to become man again, he tears at the satin, pulling death off of him. A scream. Thrashing his head against the roof of his imprisonment. Banging his hands against the mahogany. Fists punching, fingernails clawing with every nonexistent ounce of strength a dead man contains. The coffin rattles violently at the front of the parlor. A desperate plea to be human. To be alive.

The congregation doesn’t see the struggle. Instead they’re looking down at their laps and don’t hear a thing, only the racket of loss. Only crying. The coffin goes still. Death wins.

2012-05-22

Watching The Grapes of Wrath with my favorite actor, the handsome Henry Fonda!

Source: megdoot

2012-05-14

Well that’s one way to lose these walking blues

diamonds on the soles of my shoes

2012-05-13

I’m in love with you, B.

2012-05-12

USA Network - Welcome Summer by Nigel Parry

(via thisfireburnsalways)

Source: teammcdanno

2012-05-10

I watched a Woodstock documentary the other day and I like to humor myself in thinking that if I was alive and young then I would be there or would be a cool rock ‘n roll hippie or somethin’. However, I know that I would still be a white middle class little girl wanting to be part of the revolution but staying home instead. I know I wouldn’t be at Woodstock, I’d be doing the same thing I do now, put a record on and a flower in my hair and dance in my room pretending I was there.