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an embrace in death

10/52

 

“A thing there was that mattered; a thing, wreathed about with chatter, defaced, obscured in her own life, let drop every day in corruption, lies, chatter. This he had preserved. Death was defiance. Death was an attempt to communicate; people feeling the impossibility of reaching the centre which, mystically, evaded them; closeness drew apart; rapture faded, one was alone. There was an embrace in death.” ― Virginia Woolf

 

listen: www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGK3usiX31s

 

[I remarked to a friend today about how beautiful a dead butterfly is. How they seem to stay perfectly preserved, if well protected--just as beautiful in death as they were in life. Such a stark contrast to the death and decay of so many other living beings. Something so minuscule and utterly fragile holding such rich beauty even when its tiny life has slipped away... It honestly blows my mind. There really is so much beauty in the world. There really, really is. And I don't give a single damn how cheesy or cliche any of this sounds--all of it is what I've found to be true in my reality, and recognizing beauty in its many forms keeps me scraping along in life.]

 

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Uploaded on March 19, 2014
Taken on March 18, 2014