Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star
Delphin Enjolras (French, 1865-1945)
Le Livre favori
when you die, all the processes in your body slow down and come to a halt before starting to decay. which means if you were to revive someone from the dead, necromancer-style, you'd potentially have to kickstart their entire system back up from a state of inertia. which means it almost certainly would not be pretty. i'm talking coughing up clots of blood, nauseatingly intense migraines and muscle cramps, and all the sensory overload that would come with firing up the body's engines from frozen cold to fully functioning all guns blazing in the matter of seconds it takes to cast a resurrection spell.
basically: 'resurrection hangovers' should totally be a thing
legitimately from ages like 12-25 i thought everyone was exhausted to the point of suicidal depression and i was just bad at handling it. kids the normal amount of suicidal ideation is NONE and if you don't physically recover by sleeping you should see a doctor
whenever i'm discussing baby names with a weird woman i always make sure to try and sow the seeds of tragedy. 'isn't eridan a cute name for a boy? it's greek.' this is the pseudointellectual's noblesse oblige.
hang on I have to google something
oh you sick fuck
The buxom, fighting, free-living, and generally scandalous ladies of Illustrated Police News (1896-1898)
(Courtesy of @yesterdaysprint)
James Whistler (American, 1834-1903) - Nocturne in Black and Gold - The Falling Rocket - c.1875
