#simple cremation services

[simplecremationusa]

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[insanescriptist]

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

[talonabraxas]

♱ ⛦ ☠︎︎ Here are some mantras to please Kali Ma ☠︎︎ ⛦ ♱

1. Bija Mantra:

“Kreem”

This mantra will protect you from all the evil forces.

2. Simple form of Kali Mantra:

“Om Krim Kali”

K stands for full knowledge, R means she is auspicious, I means she bestows booms, and M that she gives freedom

3. Kali Mantra:

“Om Kring Kalikaye Namah”

This mantra is simple and transforms the devotee to pure consciousness.

4. Simple Kali Mantra

“Om Sri Maha Kalikayai Namaha”

Only a few people use this mantra due to its purgative nature.

5. Kalika-Yei Mantra

“Om Klim Kalika-Yei Namaha”

This mantra is believed to bring relief from all kinds of problems, no matter how complex it is.

6. The fifteen syllable mantra

“Om Hrim Shreem Klim Adya Kalika Param Eshwari Swaha” It is believed that this mantra brings rapid growth to one’s spirituality.

7. Kali Mantra for Worship

“Kring Kring Kring Hing Kring Dakshine Kalike Kring Kring Kring Hring Hring Hung Hung Swaha”

Meaning: The Mantra consists of three seeds, krim, hum and hrim, and the name ‘dakhshina kalike’ and ‘swaha’, which signifying offering. This mantra is used by the devotees of Kali, the preserver of Earth, who saves us from all the ignorance and the fear of death.

8. Kali Gayatri

“Om Maha Kalyai Ca Vidmahe Smasana Vasinyai Ca Dhimahi Tanno Kali Prachodayat”

Meaning: Om Great Goddess Kali, the One and only one, who resides in the Ocean of Life and in the Cremation Grounds that dissolve the world. We focus our energies on you, may you grant us boons and blessings.

9. Kali Chants

a). “Om Kali, Kali! Om Kali, Kali!

Namostute, namostute, namo! Namostute, namostute, namo!”

b). “Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali

Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali

Om Kali Ma!”

These are the simple chants to please the Black Goddess.

10. Dakshina Kali Dhyan Mantra : This is also known as karpuradi stotram.

“Om karala-badanam ghoram mukta-kEshim chatur-bhuryam. kalikam dakshinam dibyam munda-mala bibhushitam sadya-chinna shira kharga bama-dordha karambujam abhayam baradan-chaiba dakshina-dardha panikam”

Meaning: Om. Fierce of face, she is dark, with flowing hair and four-armed. Dakshina Kalika divine, adorned with a garland of heads. In Her lotus hands on the left, a severed head and a sword. She bestows sanctuary and blessings with her right hands.

11. Maha kali dhyanam

“Om khargang chakra-gadeshu-chapa-parighan shulang bhushundIng shirah shankhang sanda-dhatIng karistri-nayanAng sarbanga-bhushabritam. nIlashma-dyutimasya pada-dashakang sebe maha kalikang yamastou-chhaite harou kamalajye hantung madhung kaitavam.”

Meaning: Aum, Her ten hands is holding a scimitar, disk, mace, arrows and bow, lance, club, a skull and a conch shell. She is a three-eyed goddess, Her body is covered with ornaments, and Her countenance with the brilliance of blue diamonds, with ten limbs. We offer our service to mahakali, She who Brahma praised for protection from the demons madhu and kaitava, when Bishnu was in sleep. Kali Maa 🖤 Talon Abraxas

[starzgaze]

Hey, I noticed that your requests we open and you wrote about liu zhigang

If you had the time, could you please were something with shy reader?

Thank youuuuuuuu

ahh... the classic shy person a and the cocky and more extroverted person b trope. this time it will be all sweet and cutesy with our beloved 7 star chinese hunter!

LIU ZHIGANG / SHY!READER

at first, you might be taken a back by liu zhigang's boisterous behavior. sure it's different from andres thomas' loud personality but it doesn't change the fact it made you wanna crawl back into your shell when you first met him. it would take maybe one or two meetings with him before zhigang noticed your uneasiness whenever you're confronted by crowds or too many people at the same time. this is where he would tone down his loud persona into a more comfortable one so you would be more at ease whenever you're with him.

depending on your reasons why you're shy or struggle with talking with people, zhigang encourages you to break out of your shell and helps you with talking with people. he has more experience with socializing and doesn't really care for the opinions of other people, hell he has the chinese government at his beck and call you really think he would care of other people's opinions? crazy if you think you do. you honestly look up to him for this but you're usually there to humble him if he gets way too out of hand to the point it might harm him in the long run. anyway if you're the type to want to talk with people but you get way too nervous to interact, zhigang is there to help you with progress. though his way of guiding you to becoming more sociable is probably questionable to other people but you thank him nonetheless.

but if you're the type to just not... wanna talk to anyone at all then zhigang is perfectly okay with that. he probably prefers it that way so that no one will be there to snatch you away from him haha... anyway zhigang would gladly spend the days with you just snoozing away in your shared apartment or going around the streets and him doing all the talking while you listen to his ramblings and occasional complaints.

zhigang probably sees your shy personality as something endearing to him. oh? you can't find the courage to walk up to an employee in a restaurant to ask for service water? well you definitely need someone like him to be there to do that for you then! he would sometimes use these reasons against you if you ever try to do something stupid against him so watch out...

if you get overwhelmed in a crowd or situation, zhigang is there for you. he's there to soothe your anxiety with the simple motion of rubbing his thumb over your hand or placing his warm hand at your back and motioning circles to ease your nervousness. if you can't really stand to stay in the place then he'll escort you out, ignoring his assistant's or the person that's in charge of him to not do anything brash or stupid and guide you outside to somewhere more calming and peaceful.

heeeugghh i hope this err... helps 😓 i kinda sprinkled some lovesickness there but it's nothing too much but i couldn't really think much about zhigang because i was lowkeyyyy scared of overdoing it but anyway hope this is good enough for u <3

when someone is stupid enough to make you uncomfortable by stepping over your boundaries to the point of making you overwhelmed and on the verge of having a breakdown, a simple glareglance from zhigang that's been standing right behind you is more than enough to make the perpetuator back away. if looks could kill, that person would've been dead and cremated by the looks of zhigang. you often don't realize this because whenever you looked behind you, you only catch him sweetly smiling at you and placing a tender kiss on your forehead before guiding you outside (again dismissing the fussy assistant that's repeatedly telling him he can't simply leave the party because it's an important gathering).

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Even to the last, Bruno Richard Hauptmann drew a crowd. This was the “Gallery” that watched and waited outside the Fresh Pond Crematory in Queens on April 6, 1936 as a simple service was held for the executed Lindbergh baby slayer and the body cremated.

Photo: Associated Press via Der Spiegel

[stupendouspeanutstarlight]

Undiscovered future - pt. 1

Jake Sully has been on Pandora for one year, and has no knowledge of his daughter on Earth (Plus his five years in Cyro). Heather O’donald and Jake Sully, long time friends, never had any romantic relationship besides comfort between one another, after the trauma of war together, but from that comfort brought Savanna Sully. 

Getting lung cancer at only the age of four and fighting the disease for two years the RDA approached Savanna’s mother, who has been highly sought after for her highly decorated military career and expansive knowledge on trauma surgery in the field. Up until this point she had no reason to accept the RDA’s propositions. She was unable to bring her daughter along with her in cyro if she wanted, so she never had a reason to accept. Before dying on Earth, Savanna Sully’s consciousness is transferred into an avatar's body, when her mother agrees to join in the RDA’s mission of Pandora's destruction.

(In the story people will refer to Savanna as her mothers last name to hide her identity, but high ranking RDA officials know her official last name is Sully)

Also eventual aonung romance! Will take a bit, story will be mainly family related for awhile.

__________________________________________________________________________

Heather O’donald was a nothing if not a loving mother, as a highly decorated veteran and as someone revered in her field she had extensive connections. She fought tooth and nail to provide for her daughter all on her own on a dying planet, but unfortunately not everything could be solved with connections. After being diagnosed with lung cancer, repeated hospital visits since the age of four and intense drug intervention, Savanna’s condition didn’t seem to be improving, but deteriorating rapidly. In desperation Heather did the only thing she could do, reach out to the company who had been trying to get her skills and co-operation in a last ditch effort to save her daughter's life. In return for her mothers service Savanna’s consciousness and memories would be copied and put into an avatar's body. Having to keep the existence of a child avatar's creation confidential the agreement was to grow Savanna’s body while her mother was in cyro on the trip to Pandora. In order for the plan to be enacted Heather would have to withdraw care from her child and watch her die. There ended Savanna’s first life, her human life and began the push for her future.   

Aboard a ship about to make contact with Pandora was the new avatar body of Savanna Sully and Heather O’donald. Waking up to a blinding light was the first thing. The second was the unusual strength of new strong lungs. Blinking rapidly and accessing the surroundings, scientists with lab coats poked and prodded, machines buzzing, and beeps rapidly indicating the sound of her rapid heartbeat. A sound that was familiar, but sharper appeared to the right, “Savanna, baby, can you hear me? Look at mom.” There stood Heather O’donald, who was in the hospital only five minutes ago, but she had a different haircut and she was tinier. Going to rub her head to figure out what was so weird and why her mom was so different when it had only been a short time, Savanna brought her hands up to her face. Upon seeing blue she stopped dead in her tracks. Blue hands! hands were blue! Why are they blue! 

(Time jump)

Thinking back to the first step, the first inhale, the second life as an avatar, memories and fondness of the beginning of a new life sprung to mind as Savanna watched her mothers coffin being sent into cremation. Life was simple when they had arrived, being a six year old and learning to navigate in a child navi body had its struggles, but her mom was her rock and shoulder to lean on. That all changed after Savanna’s eighth birthday, the new RDA base camp was settled and General Admore demanded more of Heather and Savanna began military training; although she was a child Savanna was considered highly valuable and was expected to join the ranks of RDA soldiers when she was ready. Years of grueling Navi training in their language, customs, and weaponry along with General Admore’s intense military training by the age of eleven Savanna was participating in small routine military activity around the base. Savanna having lost her first life to cancer it was a sad humor that Heather O’donald also suffered the same fate, but her illness being in the brain, making a mind transfer impossible. Now at twelve years old Savanna was orphaned.

Savanna Sully knew of her father and his past, but nothing of his present other than the information offered by the RDA, simply he was a traitor to the human race. Growing up Heather would tell stories of her friendship with Jake and how wonderful he was, which was why Savanna always felt so torn thinking of her dad. Gaining the favor of scientists who disagreed with the RDA’s path, but wanted to research Pandora, Grace and Jake's video logs were open season. Watching and re-watching all the logs made the past seem so complex, and annoying. Wishing to just meet her dad and get straight answers, but knowing that could not happen was torture. 

“O’donald! Time to suit up, we're out of here by O’six hundred. Time to finally meet some of the locals kid!” A new team member that was previously a soldier of the RDA, but brought back named Linc hollered. Normally Savanna was to remain strictly to base operations, but being an incredibly gifted soldier and fluent in Navi she was beginning to get more intense missions. 

“I’m almost ready just grabbing some ammo!” Grabbing a couple mags and stuffing them in her pack Savanna sprinted out to the helipad. 

The ride was uneventful. This was just a routine mission for most soldiers to go to the outskirts of native territory to get information and get out. When the small deployment of two avatars and Savanna touched ground the helicopter returned to base camp to await the pick-up information. Nothing particularly interesting was happening, and no locals had been spotted. Linc was about to call for evac, but a cry in the distance was heard. Slowly in a triangle formation with Linc at point the group follow the noise to discover a very injured and pregnant Navi woman. “Well look what we’ve got here sweetness!” Only receiving a hiss back Linc chuckled. “I guess we should put the bitch out of her misery then folks!” Sabrina the other marine chuckled, egging Linc on, and began circling the woman. Frightened and scared she began to pray to the great mother.

“Linc! This isn’t right! She’s not a threat, our mission is data recovery and then to leave! Not kill a pregnant woman!” Moving to stand defensively in front of the Navi woman, everyone went silent. 

“What do you think you’re doing kid? She’s a native, it doesn't matter if we have a little fun right!” Linc was trying to be humorous, but his eyes and tail betrayed his anger. Thrashing out of control he approached and whispered into Savanna’s ear, “I won’t have a tree hugging thirteen year old get in my way!” Throwing her to the side he began his taunting steps towards the woman along with Sabrina. Raising his gun two decisive shots rang through the air. As Savanna’s supposed comrades' bodies hit the dirt she could only think about how screwed she was. 

The Na'vi woman stared at her stunned before speaking after several silent minutes, “Why? Why did you help me?” 

“I-I, I couldn’t just let them kill you! You haven’t done anything wrong! Omg, Omg, I can’t explain this to the general! Where do I go Now!” Pacing, the ground beneath began to warp from the intense steps. 

“My father is the Olo'eyktan of the swamp people. Would you be willing to learn sky demon?” 

“Of course! I Can’t go back!” How could this be happening? A routine mission gone so wrong. Why is a Navi who is supposed to be vicious and inhumane offering me help? 

“Then come, if you assist me my village will only be an hour's travel from here. I was only to gather today, so my mate will notice my absence. My people will find us on the way, do as I say, or you will die.” Stumbling a little still shocked from the sudden events of the afternoon, Savanna approached the Navi woman and assisted her movements. How the hell am I going to survive this.  

__________________________________________________________________________

Please give me feedback! I didn’t read anything over and am trying to make everything line up time wise, but honestly probably going to be a lot of creative liberty on that part. Quartich isn’t here yet and my character is supposed to be a year older than Neteyam in her body, logistically she should be older, but having her avatar grown she wasn’t aging with her mind just being on a file so she’s only a year in her mind and body.  masterlist

[instituteslosttapes]

S̷͔̜̒́t̴̺̼͑͘ǎ̵͎̜̚ẗ̴̬́ḙ̶̗̋̉m̷̜̱͂e̷̝͖̾̇n̷̟̕t̷̘̤̑ ̶͕̱͝1̷͚̎̊0̵̡̦͂4̸̞̣̋̚5̸̭͈͗9̷̤̣̐̆0̷͔̣͐

Statement of Mariam Bernard, regarding a disappearance, in her hometown of Bixby Oklahoma. Original statement 27th of August, 2009. Recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute London.

Statement Begins.

I’ve always been afraid of tornados. Any storms, really, if it meant high winds, the windows in my childhood home shaking, power flickering, I was always terrified. But nothing scared me more than Tornados did… well, still do. That's part of the reason why I moved, you know, not just for work but because of how few Tornados are experienced here every year. Sure I could’ve moved out of Oklahoma, but you’re never truly safe from tornadoes in the states, not unless you move to Alaska, and well… there just isn't that much demand for my job there. So I decided to move here, found a nice cozy job, found a nice apartment to rent and I’ve been here about three years now and I barely think about tornadoes any longer. It's a relief. Not worrying everytime there's a storm that will turn into something more violent.

I never once thought about going back home, even for my family. We had never been exactly close, you know. I was the middle child, there were five of us total and well I had always fallen to the wayside. I barely heard from my family while living here, not unless it was for birthdays or the holidays or the odd group text that I was never really acknowledged in anyways. Except for three months ago, when I had to fly home for a family emergency… My father died, my mother was devastated and all of my siblings were too busy with their jobs and children to fly out to Oklahoma to help so I went. If I’m being honest with you I almost didn't get on the plane. It was April and the most violent tornadoes tend to blow through my state at the time and there had just been an EF-2 tornado two towns over and I. Was. Terrified. But I knew I had to go, I knew that I had to be there for my mother and be the better child then the rest of my siblings who all claimed to be too busy to go. I had a job, you know, a good, well paying job, and I still took the time off to fly across the world and be with my mother after she lost her husband of forty five years. How hard is that to do? How hard is it to go and be with the woman who gave birth to you and raised you when she is going through the hardest time of her life like seriously?!

Sorry.

Sorry.

I’m getting off topic.

Where was I?

Right. Right.

Flying across the world to be with my mother and help her plan my fathers funeral.

The flight there was fine, there was some turbulence, but nothing that I wasn't used to. I got off my flight, grabbed my luggage, and waited outside for my mother to pick me up. The sky was clear, birds were flying overhead and the sun was hanging high in the sky. That filled me with relief, I had been terrified that I would land and I would see the thick dark storm clouds hanging overhead. But I didn’t and that brought me such… relief. I never thought I would experience such relief at seeing a cloudless sky.

The first few days I was there felt like such a blur, it was a lot of paperwork, helping my mother plan the funeral, she decided on a simple cremation, she didn't want a service, at least not a big one. We picked the urn, we got everything settled. I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and staring out the window at my parents backyard. We owned cows when I was a child, but once the kids moved out and my parents got older they decided enough was enough after the last one passed. The pasture sat empty, the grass overgrowing and choking out the wooden fence. That was when I had started to get nervous, it had been raining all day, and my mother had the windows open, she always had them open, she loved the fresh air when it rained. I hated it. I hated how my things would get wet when the wind would blow the rain into my room, I hated the sound of the thunder that wasn't muffled any longer by the panes of glass and my light purple curtains. I would hide under my bed until the sounds stopped. But I guess I am too old now to cope that way. So I stood in the kitchen and did the dishes, watching the storm clouds roll in despite the anxiety that crept up my throat from my stomach. The sky had gone from being a threatening black to a sickly green and it was as if every creature in the area had died. There wasn't a sound. I knew what that meant. I had kept myself very aware and educated on all the signs of an impending tornado. Even after being away for so long I never forgot the warning signs. The impending signs of destruction.

I was watching the grass, watching as it stood up straight and then was pulled almost down to the ground by the strength of the wind and I saw the clouds starting to clump together, the clouds stretching down from the sky like a long finger and I swear that I saw… a man. Or maybe a woman, but someone was walking through the pasture towards the impending cloud. I hadn’t seen anyone out here, except for a man who had been sitting in a van with a camcorder. It wasn’t an abnormal sight, people often parked in front of our house to watch the storms roll in as we lived far enough out of town that you were almost guaranteed to see a tornado touch down, if you were into that sort of thing. I watched as he walked towards the funnel cloud, his arms outstretched in supplication as if he was begging for forgiveness. I watched him as he dropped to his knees in front of it. That was when I ran out there, despite every nerve in my body I ran out there after him. I wasn’t about to let him kill himself in my backyard! Not like that! I couldn’t even imagine what way that would be to go. So I ran out there, fighting against the roaring wind to be heard.

I swear he heard me right before the tornado got to him. I swear to this day he looked over his shoulder at me and he smiled, a smile of almost… relief, as if he had been saved.

They never found a body. They had plotted a course for the tornado and followed it. Even mapped an area in which debris could have been thrown when the storm dissipated. They never found him. His van was towed a few days later after I had called the police that it had never been claimed.

I visit home more now. My mother is lonely so I try to visit more. I swear that every year, right before a storm, I see that man in his van.

After checking police records and missing person reports, the only case we can find of a person being reported missing in the year 2009 is Dustin McBride. He was reported missing in his home town of Burnsville, Minnesota after he failed to return home from a storm chasing expedition in Ms. Bernard's home town. The same man from statement 1089567 which was given to the institute a year after his supposed disappearance. If it were not from the statement from Mr. Mcormant, I would have assumed that Dustin McBride was in fact deceased. Perhaps Ms. Bernards fear of inclimate weather led to her mind playing tricks on her, and there was no one in that field that day, and Mr. McBride’s disappearance is simply a coincidence.

Statement Ends.

[coffinup]

Are Funeral Directors really trying to take advantage of you?

The 70s and 80s were a time of greed. Corporations and small business owners alike were discovering marketing and advertising, and all of the creative, manipulative and insidious ways they could use them to make people buy things.

During these haydays of advertising there were very few regulations that protected the average person from deceitful marketing or even companies outright lying about their products. Funeral homes and funeral directors were, unfortunately, no exception. In order to keep up with other businesses, they were forced to employ these manipulative tactics on their clientele.

Because of that, we now have the FTC and other organizations that help protect the consumer by preventing providers of goods and services from tricking them, and to make sure stuff actually worked the way it was reasonably expected to.

Nowadays whether or not someone follows these rules means whether or not they are breaking the law. In short, if a funeral director is trying to take advantage of you by using cryptic wording, not giving you straight answers, or their paperwork doesn’t include the required disclaimers, it’s fair game to report them to the FTC and look elsewhere!

One thing the FTC instituted specifically for funeral homes is called the Funeral Rule. It’s fairly simple; you have to give accurate pricing information in person or over the phone and provide a potential “customer” with a General Price List that clearly explains all the costs involved. Additionally, you are not allowed to say that embalming is required by law (except in very specific circumstances).

This means by extension that a funeral home HAS to explain costs truthfully, and has to have descriptions of procedures like embalming and cremations ON the authorization forms, and HAS to go over that info BEFORE those forms are signed.

So what about merchandise like caskets? What about vaults? Those overpriced guestbooks, folders, and all the other superfluous items?

If you havent read my post on the benefit of vaults, here it is for reference.

As for caskets, a good funeral director will explain the benefits of having a casket, or a more expensive casket, without trying to necessarily sway you.

The fact of the matter is that a more expensive casket is usually priced that way because of the material it’s made out of, and the level of craftsmanship or ornate-ness. But at the end of the day, just like a carseat, a casket has to fulfill certain minimum safety regulations. For instance, it has to be constructed so that the bottom isn’t going to fall out. If it has handles, they shouldn’t rip off when pallbearers are lifting the casket. This is part of the reason where if you’re buying a casket, it actually IS a good idea to buy it through the funeral home or direct from a reputable manufacturer, because these people ensure the caskets are up to safety standards. Amazon, Walmart, and Costco are not subjected to these standards. That being said, funeral directors are not allowed to dissuade you from purchasing a casket from an outside source. A caveat to that might be that they will probably just require you to show up when the casket is delivered, so that you can watch it being unpacked to prove that any damage to it was sustained in shipping and not inflicted by the funeral home. So that’s just some extra legwork you have to consider.

Bronze and copper caskets are the most expensive because they are rust-proof. Wood tends to be cheaper because it’s more susceptible to degradation. Like I said in my vault post, how much you care about that kind of thing is up to YOU.

Another factor to consider, and this is a line that a lot of funeral directors use, is how do you want to remember the last time you see your loved one? This isn’t so much of a manipulative tactic, as it is one to make you really think about which casket you LIKE, or you think the person would like. As a matter of fact, I find this often makes people NOT choose the most expensive casket, and rather one they just like the look of best. I have even seen this lead to people choosing an alternative to a casket, like one family that opted to have their loved one placed in a canoe for their viewing!

So what about the other stuff? Much of what costs money is using space for visitations and services. Part of the function of a funeral home is providing a gathering space that is already equipped with everything you could need for a funeral and visitation. That’s the benefit of doing it at the funeral home. A lot of the time you will also have dedicated staff there to help, which is useful. The benefit of having a service elsewhere is it might be cheaper, if you think you don’t need the extra help or supplies. A lot of the time funeral directors will encourage people to use their space, because logistically it is easier for both the funeral home AND the family. The deceased person can stay in the same place and doesn’t have to be transported, and the family doesn’t have to worry about hosting a gathering themselves or providing anything for their guests.

When it comes down to it, a lot of what a funeral director will offer you is for your convenience, and so that they and their staff can do a lot of the legwork so you don’t have to. How valuable that is to you is UP to you. You can certainly forgo the guestbook or get a cheap one, same with folders and handouts. The question you have to ask yourself is, do you want to do that legwork? Is the cost the funeral home is charging worth your peace of mind?

Arranging a funeral is often times just as complicated as arranging a wedding, but you only have about 3-14 days to do it. That’s why a funeral director, and all the resources they have at their disposal, can be helpful, just like a wedding planner.

When you’re presented with a price list, you can and should ask questions. And the funeral director should give you clear answers. At the end of the day, many of the things on that list are optional. There’s nothing stopping you from having a direct burial, or a direct cremation. A funeral director will explain the benefits of having a viewing and a service (which are, in short, to help the grief process by allowing you a pointed time to gather with your loved ones and see the deceased person one last time. This has been proven to be extremely helpful in helping people move on!) but no funeral director should ever tell you that it’s required or that you are dishonoring your loved one by not doing it.

So the short answer: because of laws and regulations that exist now, funeral directors are prevented from giving you any false information or from performing devious marketing practices. All the information about embalming, burial, cremation, and everything else should be in plain text and explained to you by the funeral director. You are free to chose the cheapest option if that is what you need, and a good funeral director should help you set that up. If you have any sense that a funeral director is being too vague or lying to you, you can and should go elsewhere. If a funeral director doesn’t provide you with an accurate, up-to-date price list, you can report the funeral home to the FTC.

A lot of the “cost shock” that people experience is OFTEN due to lack of knowledge of what goes into a funeral, and lack of preparation. Educating yourself and your loved ones is the number one way to make sure when the time comes, you’re not surprised, and if there’s a malicious funeral director out there, that they won’t urge you to spend more money than you are comfortable with.

I hope this post explained some stuff! Stay safe out there folks!

-Memento Mori-

[vilde-harclay]

♛ → THE TRUE NORTH presents VILDE HARCLAY, DAUGHTER OF THE HARCLAY. when the dragons danced in the sky they DIDN’T CARE WHO would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY-NINE year old FEMALE who was PERSEVERING & CLEVER before they saw the first of the flames, is now RASH & ATONING after seeing the last. they’re often associated with the ancient rituals to cleanse the dead, the constant absence of a twin image long gone, and the haunted eyes of a woman with silence on her lips and screaming in her head ( FC: Imogen Poots)

BACKGROUND:

Vilde was born mere minutes after her twin brother, Olav, was delivered. They were the first children born to The Harclay (the chieftain) of that eponymous Northern clan. The horrors of the birth of the twins were quickly revealed, amongst the copious amounts of blood lost by the mother: Vilde born a healthy babe, and Olav was born stiff, frail, and barely breathing. (tw: death, including infant death ) Olav did not last a day before he took his last breath in his mother’s arms, who also turned cold and lifeless before the sun rose the next day. In one fell swoop, The Harclay lost his lady and his heir, left with only a daughter. (Some years later, Vilde’s father would remarry and have two more children, including his long-awaited male heir).

Thus, since infancy, Vilde had a very close association with death. Not only death as an abstract idea, but as the cause of it. Her father never let her accept another truth other than that he would have preferred to have Olav live instead of her. He never let her forget that she had eaten away in the womb what her brother ought to have gotten. Since before she could even properly walk she had begun to understand just how unwanted she was and how much blame she was to carry for the rest of her life.

Unfortunate and wretched as she was, the chieftain did raise her to become a proper clanswoman. He would not have his daughter shame him by not being a proper Harclay, after all. Vilde learned what Northern ladies ought to know, even if her kind did not fully adopt the terms and titles of Westerosi nobility. The Harclays were a noble house, but their nobility came from their strength and the ancient practices of the mountains, not the gilded notions of Southron folk.

Her initial fault, the very sin she carried since her birth, was not fully useless either. That macabre aura of death that had clung to Vilde since she entered the world was meant to be reframed as her purpose: to become a sálþyrja (soul cleanser/sin-eater).

When a person dies, the Harclays (and other clans) have the ancient practice of cleansing the bodies before laying them to rest. The sálþyrja is the woman in charge of washing the body and dressing the person in their finer clothes. She then conducts the rúnarit ritual (rune writing), carving a couple of objects belonging to the person with protective or guiding runes. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the sálþyrja has a simple, ritual meal in order to spiritually take away the sins of the deceased person. All of this the sálþyrja does alone, and when she is finished, she let the families come and claim their loved one, who has been cleansed and can be properly buried or cremated. This practice began in her clan centuries ago, has continued in other clans, and even a few Northern families have requested a sálþyrja’s services in the past.

A sálþyrja is thus commonly known as a sin-eater or a soul cleanser in the common tongue, and as a consequence of their work, a sálþyrja is believed to carry the sins of those they have cleansed. In the Harclay clan, Vilde is both feared, respected and sometimes even shunned because of this.

CLAN HARCLAY:

They’re considered a noble family, but they don’t use the title lord or lady. Instead, the only titled individual is the chieftain, who is only known as The Harclay.

They consider themselves to be above wildlings, but for other Northerners (and other Westerosi too), they're often seen as more savage than "civilized" folk.

They did fight in the Dance of the Dragons, following the Starks. Men and women alike fought in the war. Vilde herself was one of the archers in some of the battles, though her presence in the war camps was mostly to cleanse the dead.

The clan has resented some of Owen’s actions in recent years.

They did not fight in the war against the Umbers, remaining neutral. With the divide in the North, the Harclays stand as part of the True North faction.

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

Planning as an act of love

Okay, I’m going to get serious for a moment. I’m going to get very very graphic, but I want to emphasize exactly how important it is to TALK about end-of-life planning.

I live in Oregon, in the USA. I have no idea how it works in other states. I have no idea how it works in other countries. I just know what happened to me this week and I am so horrified and furious and frustrated that I need to scream into the void so that maybe, maybe, maybe my screaming can somehow prevent someone else from going through the same.

When my dad died, he died in a hospital. He was transferred to the morgue, and from there to the cremation service he and Mom had previously chosen. He and Mom knew the importance of planning ahead. They made their arrangements years ago and even put down deposits so that when the day came, all they would need to do is call a single phone number. Even though his death was sudden, the process went smoothly. He’s now five pounds of ash in a gorgeous burlwood box that Mom occasionally carries around the house. Eventually, he will be spread in Puget Sound according to his wishes. 

Simple. Straightforward. We do fire drills so that if the fire alarm goes off, our feet already know the distance to the rendezvous.  

My mother-in-law died on Thursday. Despite having a dementia diagnosis for fifteen years, she and my FIL didn’t make a single decision regarding end-of-life logistics. This resulted in her lying in her bed for TWELVE HOURS after her passing while FIL dithered about deciding on a funeral home. My husband, his sister and I went to the memory care place to collect her things, and she was still there. 

Have you ever seen anyone die? Do you want to know what it’s like? With Dad, his heartbeat lost cadence. We watched the pulse of his jugular, stark under his emaciated skin, as it stuttered out of time with his breath. He twitched as we held his hands, muscles straining as the signal faded, rallied, and faded again. We counted from a last breath, got to a minute, two minutes, and then he would gasp and we’d start over. Thirty seconds. One minute. Three minutes. Gasp. 

This went on for an afternoon. The sky was cloudless, a sharp cold February day brilliant as glacier ice. Sunlight flooded the room. We watched the clock. We watched his pulse. Mom held one of his hands. My sister held the other. I held theirs, my elbow making a dent in his edema-swollen calf. Spit and mucus congealed in his throat, each breath rasping in and out. This is what they call a death rattle. At exactly four o’clock, he gasped and we started our count again, but this time, we kept counting. Three minutes. Four minutes. Seven. Ten. I think my sister was the one who pressed the call button. The nurse came in and called the doctor to confirm he was gone. 

You know in your bones when someone is gone. It’s called an unnatural stillness, but death is a natural process. Stillness is the most natural part.

We weren’t there when my mother-in-law passed. This was a choice my husband and his sister made, and I respect that. Someone else brushed her hair and smoothed the blankets, arranging the tableau with thoughtful hands. Someone called hospice, who called us. “She’s gone,” they said, and in the next breath, asked about arrangements. There were none, and my father-in-law, overwhelmed and closed to suggestion, was legally the only one who could make the decision.

When we went to the memory care place, my mother-in-law was still there, lying in her bed in a carefully dark room. She was still. She was not sleeping. We took her things, silently packed up her sweaters and shirts and closed the door on a corpse. 

You know in your bones when someone is gone.

No one likes thinking about these things. It isn’t comfortable. It isn’t pleasant. Do you know what else isn’t pleasant? Scrolling through Google reviews with tears in your eyes. Looking at price lists because we live in a capitalist hellscape and it costs a great deal of money to die. Opening a website called Discount Cremation Services and then closing it immediately, because even though it’s five hundred dollars cheaper than the next option, you can’t bear to have your loved one processed in the same strip mall that sells used tires. Would you like to upgrade from a plastic urn to one of our more dignified options? How many copies of the death certificate do you need? Death has a bureaucracy: insurance, Social Security, property, banks and other financial institutions. Which ones require a notarized death certificate and which ones will accept a copy? 

I’m sorry for your loss. Will you be paying by credit or debit?

So get your shit together. Talk to your family. Talk to your friends. Find a list. Getting your affairs in order isn’t morbid. It’s an act of love. Do you know what you’d like done with your body when you die? Tell someone. Write it down. If you’re over a certain age and can pay ahead of time, do it. My parents used the Neptune Society. It was expensive, but worth every penny. 

Do you think you’re too young to be planning? You aren’t. What if you get hit by a car? What if you get cancer? Do you want the people who love you to be sitting together at a kitchen table with cold tea, desperately trying to remember if you ever mentioned that you wanted to be buried? Donated to science? What will happen to your cat? Your books? Who will close your bank account? Who will make your final Instagram post? 

Talk with your loved ones. Ask what they want. If they can afford it, have an estate lawyer look through their documents. Know the probate laws of your state. Do you know what power of attorney means? Or would you rather be holding a kleenex in your shaking hands as the customer service representative gently tells you you can’t access your dead parent’s bank account without it? 

We’re all right. We’re figuring things out. We’ve got each other and we’re muddling through. I just want to highlight the stark contrasts. It’s hard to talk about these things when everything is fine, but it’s worse to talk about them when everything isn’t. 

This isn’t suicidal. This isn’t morbid. It’s practical. It’s healthy. This is the fire drill. Know your exit. Please, please, please don’t wait until everything is on fire.

[follow-up-news]

For several decades, the cremated remains of more than two dozen American Civil War veterans languished in storage facilities at a funeral home and cemetery in Seattle. The simple copper and cardboard urns gathering dust on shelves only had the name of each of the 28 soldiers — but nothing linking them to the Civil War. Still, that was enough for an organization dedicated to locating, identifying and interring the remains of unclaimed veterans to conclude over several years that they were all Union soldiers deserving of a burial service with military honors. “It’s amazing that they were still there and we found them,” said Tom Keating, the Washington state coordinator for the Missing In America Project, which turned to a team of volunteers to confirm their war service through genealogical research. “It’s something long overdue. These people have been waiting a long time for a burial.” Most of the veterans were buried in August at Washington’s Tahoma National Cemetery. In a traditional service offered to Civil War veterans, the historical 4th U.S. Infantry Regiment dressed in Union uniforms fired musket volleys and the crowd sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Names were called out for each veteran and their unit before their remains were brought forward and stories were shared about their exploits. Then, they were buried.

[simplecremationusa]

Cremation Services in Florida are much simpler to arrange than a funeral. But, to make arrangements, you and your family will probably need to make at least a few visits to and from a supplier of cremation services. You will therefore need to look for one that is not too far from your house.

[amai-no-ura]

Typology - Gangubai Kathiawadi (from Netflix)

MBTI: ENTJ (a great potrayal of Te-dom and Ni user)

Enneagram: 8w9 so/sp (836)

Sorting: Double Lion

First, I really admire this character. I will not comment on the real person because I do not know enough about her. But as it stands, I admire this character.

I can relate to her in so many aspect. I respect how she turns her pain into strength. And how she fights not just for herself but for 4,000 women of Kamathipura who depend on her. She is a selfless idealist who fights for her people when the world want to tear them down. I cannot respect this enough. If you ask me what kind of person I want to be, it's someone like her (as a character). And she reignites the flame in my heart as well.

But enough conjectures.

Gangubai is a Te-dom. She is a no-nonsense business woman who focuses on the bottom line and profit. She is a very kind and empathic woman but also a ruthlessly pragmatic and logical one. She never let her personal sentiment standing in the way of what needs to be done. She sacrificed her lover to save a young girl from prostitution and further her standing in Kamathipura politics. She bravely got into a room with a sadistic rapist who 'bought' her so she could bring him to justice. While she doesn't talk much about her feelings, she show it through her action. She is one of those 'enough emotions' people. Since her Fi is inferior, she rarely indulges in it. Instead, she prefers to problem solve and get things done for people she loves. She shows how she cares by being of service to her people and uphold her values through actions. But on a rare occasion, we get to see how much pain she has inside of herself such as when she called her mother... That was a sad scene.

But she is also highly abstract and symbolic. She ruminated on cremating 'Ganga' because now she is 'Gangu'. She stated to her madam that she will 'become queen of Kamathipura'. Then she went on to talk about different shade of white in a highly abstract way to infer her meaning. Her speech is often straightforward, but also subversive in that she finds a way of thinking no one thinks about (A brothel is a bad influence for the school. Wouldn't a school be good influence for a brothel?) All this point to strong intuition. And her intuition is a focused, single-minded, narrowing everything down kind of intuition, which is Ni. She also shows strong but underutilized Se. She enjoys good time and sensory thing but also not very active and impulsive in her decision making.

Her enneagram is also very simple. She is an 8w9 - fearless and calm in every situation. She doesn't charm people so much as strong arming them and demonstrate her power so she can come out on top. (The scene when she sat on a missionary is hilarious, what a power move). When she wants something, she just marches in and expects it to be done. And if they don't comply, she just put more and more pressures on them until they cave. (And as a 9w8, man I wish I could do this more, it's refreshing!) She is so/sp. Her focus is on larger society first before her own needs. She identifies with the group and takes on a role of 'mama bear' and protect them, fight for them. Which is also why I relate to her so much, as an so/sp with strong 8 wing...

And she is double Lion. Ganguji is fiery, assertive and fearless. She knows her values and isn't afraid to stand up against anyone for what she believes is right. She champions the right of her people, not out of a sense of duty or obligations, but out of genuine belief in the rightness of her cause and dignity of her profession. While she can be subtle, her go to method is usually 'do this, or else'. Which demonstrates exactly what a cunning and intelligent Lion secondary would look like. She is planful, cunning and very pragmatic. But she is also ... honest. She is very honest and straightforward in everything she does.

She doesn't beat around the bush and manipulate. She simply states it as it is 'if you value your life, you better do as I say'. And she is an improvisational secondary to the core. When she had to deliver a speech, instead of using a pre-prepped one. She just tore it and said what's in her heart. And it got people rolling.\

All in all, a compelling character and someone I respect.

[talonabraxas]

Kali Maa 🖤 Talon Abraxas ♱ ⛦ ☠︎︎ Here are some mantras to please Kali Ma ☠︎︎ ⛦ ♱

1. Bija Mantra:

“Kreem”

This mantra will protect you from all the evil forces.

2. Simple form of Kali Mantra:

“Om Krim Kali”

K stands for full knowledge,

R means she is auspicious,

I means she bestows booms, and

M that she gives freedom

3. Kali Mantra:

“Om Kring Kalikaye Namah”

This mantra is simple and transforms the devotee to pure consciousness.

4. Simple Kali Mantra

“Om Sri Maha Kalikayai Namaha”

Only a few people use this mantra due to its purgative nature.

5. Kalika-Yei Mantra

“Om Klim Kalika-Yei Namaha”

This mantra is believed to bring relief from all kinds of problems, no matter how complex it is.

6. The fifteen syllable mantra

“Om Hrim Shreem Klim Adya Kalika Param Eshwari Swaha”

It is believed that this mantra brings rapid growth to one’s spirituality.

7. Kali Mantra for Worship

“Kring Kring Kring Hing Kring Dakshine Kalike

Kring Kring Kring Hring Hring Hung Hung Swaha”

Meaning: The Mantra consists of three seeds, krim, hum and hrim, and the name ‘dakhshina kalike’ and ‘swaha’, which signifying offering. This mantra is used by the devotees of Kali, the preserver of Earth, who saves us from all the ignorance and the fear of death.

8. Kali Gayatri

“Om Maha Kalyai

Ca Vidmahe Smasana Vasinyai

Ca Dhimahi Tanno Kali Prachodayat”

Meaning: Om Great Goddess Kali, the One and only one, who resides in the Ocean of Life and in the Cremation Grounds that dissolve the world. We focus our energies on you, may you grant us boons and blessings.

9. Kali Chants

a). “Om Kali, Kali! Om Kali, Kali!

Namostute, namostute, namo!

Namostute, namostute, namo!”

b). “Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali

Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali

Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali

Om Kali Ma!”

These are the simple chants to please the Black Goddess.

10. Dakshina Kali Dhyan Mantra : This is also known as karpuradi stotram.

“Om karala-badanam ghoram mukta-kEshim chatur-bhuryam.

kalikam dakshinam dibyam munda-mala bibhushitam

sadya-chinna shira kharga bama-dordha karambujam

abhayam baradan-chaiba dakshina-dardha panikam”

Meaning: Om. Fierce of face, she is dark, with flowing hair and four-armed. Dakshina Kalika divine, adorned with a garland of heads. In Her lotus hands on the left, a severed head and a sword. She bestows sanctuary and blessings with her right hands.

11. Maha kali dhyanam

“Om khargang chakra-gadeshu-chapa-parighan shulang bhushundIng shirah shankhang sanda-dhatIng karistri-nayanAng sarbanga-bhushabritam. nIlashma-dyutimasya pada-dashakang sebe maha kalikang yamastou-chhaite harou kamalajye hantung madhung kaitavam.”

Meaning: Aum, Her ten hands is holding a scimitar, disk, mace, arrows and bow, lance, club, a skull and a conch shell. She is a three-eyed goddess, Her body is covered with ornaments, and Her countenance with the brilliance of blue diamonds, with ten limbs. We offer our service to mahakali, She who Brahma praised for protection from the demons madhu and kaitava, when Bishnu was in sleep.

[senruthmartinsbob]

I cannot believe that the funeral service isn’t something countries nationalize. No country seems to have this how is this not a thing people push for. Your loved one dies and you’re force to pay 5k upfront for the simple fact of their passing? Like what are you going to do. NOT bury/cremate them?

[mitigatingchaos]

A New App

As a funeral director who specializes in providing simple and affordable cremation services, this is something I think about almost daily and can chuckle about. Gallows humor, one might say. As a husband, father, and grandfather, I’d prefer to block it out and while I’m not counting on forty years, I’ll take whatever I can get. credit to somewhere on Instagram, I believe. Not my photo (or…