Have you ever woken up, and in a groggy, clouded state of mind had the slightest thought that it might be an incredibly fun experience to set up camp between rusted relics atop a ground coated in glass shards, surrounded by 80,000 spiders risen from hell, sizing closely to the width of your palm from leg to leg, and swarms of bees so loud you’d think Skrillex was lost in a frenzy, trying to escape through the brush of a forest? 871 more words
Tags » Graveyard
Taphophile is the technical term for someone who has an appreciation for graveyards, and I consider myself something of a taphophile.
On the surface it perhaps seems a somewhat macabre hobby, but it’s often the story of the person buried there that I find more interesting than anything, and visiting their grave is just an interesting way to remember them. 378 more words
Not many people know this, but there was once a state asylum about a five-minute drive from my house. The generically-named Illinois State Training School For Girls sat nestled in the woods halfway between Batavia and Geneva. 4,701 more words