Love the abuse
I’ve developed a habit of humming every time I think of something I don’t want to be thinking about. Uhhhgggg can I just evaporate?
I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.
It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only have to wash again the next.
It made me tired just to think of it.
I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.
| — | Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, page 127 (via pretentiousmetaphors) |
H.H. Holmes started his criminal career as a medical student by stealing corpses from the University of Michigan. He used them to collect insurance money from policies taken out under fictitious names. When he moved to Chicago he started a drugstore empire from which he made a fortune. He built a hundred-room mansion complete with gas chambers, trap doors, acid vats, lime pits, fake walls and secret entrances. During the 1893 World’s Fair he rented rooms to visitors. He killed most of his renters and continued his insurance fraud scheme. He also lured women to his “torture castle” with the promise of marriage. Instead, he would force them to sign over their savings. After he would throw them down an elevator shaft and gas them to death. In the basement of the castle he dismembered and skinned his prey and experimented with their corpses. When police grew suspicious about H.H’s activities, he torched the castle and fled. In the burnt hulk of the building, authorities found the remains of over two hundred people. H.H. was caught and hanged on May 7, 1896, leaving behind an impressive trail of blood unequaled for almost eighty years.










