arxm3:

highcottoncavalier:

This evokes feelings of disgust and of something inherently bringing despair and fully loathsome. Like the rattling laughter of a children’s tuberculosis ward or a drought stricken farm.

I worship at his bloated shrine. Yes he is the pus in the wound. Oh, proper ones curl their noses, but
it’s pus that drinks foul humors and restores the blood. I worship, yes, because sometimes the world can only be cleansed by
disease.