The Fall of the House of Usher is many things and I'm making a conscious choice to not scream about every single one of them rn, but what left me staring at a wall in tears is just... kindness. Death was kind. She gave every choice, every reason to stop. She would take these kids anyway but she also regretted having to take them like that. She cared when nobody else would, even though they kept making the wrong choices.
She's never cruel for cruelty's sake. She wasn't cruel to Lenore. She just sent a child to sleep as lovingly as she could, with kind words and kinder touch.
And I don't even know how to express the absolute heartbreak with blinding warmth among the cracks, when Death herself kneels before one man, worst man, honest man, who refused her offer – and thanks him with such respect.
Mike Flanagan, you fucking did it again. Carla Gugino, you... I don't even have words for you. That's a whole-ass masterpiece of human soul, meaning, and searching right there.
Kiss Death with kindness in the end
And when she parts
You part as friends
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getting emotional over footage of an amateur scuba diver interacting with a coelacanth. they are hunted by large deepwater predators, and here comes a large creature bearing the brightest lights it's ever seen, making strange noises, but it does not shy away. it hovers, calmly, as the diver reaches out and trails a hand down its back. im strongly against the anthropomorphizing of real life animals but the stupid emotional part of me loudly insists this is because it recognizes us, the alternating movements of its four paired limbs matching the diver's four paired limbs, & it is thinking, "hello, cousins, we missed you these 66 million years, it's so good to see you again. welcome back, welcome home."
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isnt it amazing we live in a world where theres poetry. why is nobody else going insane about it
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