and as i awoke from my dream - hands clasping unsuccessfully onto the metal tray - my pulse slowing, my eyes dilating to focus on what may have been god, my lifeblood seeping back into manmade containers, the velvet curtain was pulled back by its frayed tassels by a little girl eager to see what was behind. and alth… Read more

and as i awoke from my dream - hands clasping unsuccessfully onto the metal tray - my pulse slowing, my eyes dilating to focus on what may have been god, my lifeblood seeping back into manmade containers, the velvet curtain was pulled back by its frayed tassels by a little girl eager to see what was behind. and although small and although innocent, she peered in and smiled, negating a lifetime of the fear of death in a single moment. we sat together for hours on the cold steel table, and i shared my midnight snack.

Underbunny's photos have so much intensity, warmth and sincerity that they humanised death, to say the least. When I got to know her, I realised that such photos are a direct result of her warmth, sincerity, passion and friendliness. IF I EVER die, my bunnywunny would take care of me. I wouldn't want it any other w… Read more

Underbunny's photos have so much intensity, warmth and sincerity that they humanised death, to say the least. When I got to know her, I realised that such photos are a direct result of her warmth, sincerity, passion and friendliness. IF I EVER die, my bunnywunny would take care of me. I wouldn't want it any other way.

underbunny's photos move me to some emotion or action. And then there is the fact that I would let her blow her nose on my favorite black shirt, the one with the ruffly cuffs that hangs sort of funny off my shoulder. I would gladly make her dinner, even if I only had a box of macaroni and cheese and a jar of Nutella… Read more

underbunny's photos move me to some emotion or action. And then there is the fact that I would let her blow her nose on my favorite black shirt, the one with the ruffly cuffs that hangs sort of funny off my shoulder. I would gladly make her dinner, even if I only had a box of macaroni and cheese and a jar of Nutella in my pantry when she appeared. I would lend her my fountain pen. I think it is safe to say that I crush on underbunny in the most fluttering and shiny of ways. I dedicate the word "twitterpated" to her.