Worship at the Altar of the Rot

There is something specific and awesome I have always found hiding in images of abandoned buildings, of time-worn places, of blurry antiquities and darkened corridors. I've taken to calling it the Rot; I've taken to calling it entropy. I worship here at the altar of the Rot, and I hope that you will too. The time will pass anyway.

[morticianpoetry]

[jamjjamm]

early supernatural aesthetic

[rotten-altar]

the smell of cigarettes, baked into 40-year-old plush carpeting in an antique store that's only occupied twice a year, stuffed to the brim with slowly Rotting knickknacks. The cutting wind blowing through open doors, late fall or early spring. mmmmmm.

[outtawack]

[warizoh]

[hopelessrotting]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Want by Joan Larkin

[rotten-altar]

dig your hands into the soft loam. Feel the mud squish between your fingers. Return to your home covered in grave dirt.

[courtingcorpses]

⊹꒷꒦˚₊꒦⊹꒷꒥꒷ be my valentine? ꒷꒦⊹๑‧˚₊꒷︶꒷꒦⊹

[dollieheartt]

[dearjasperfrancis]

dust bowl in the texas panhandle, taken by arthur rothstein in march of 1936.

[ghostssmoke]

Omen

[hwang-inho-132]

[horrorcitos]

Brendon Burton

[visionsofnightfall]

April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land

[bequietanddrivefarawayy]

Visit Original Link

[heavvensdoor]