Life After Death |
&I don't believe there is life after death in the literal sense. I don't believe my individual ego or spirit is unique and important enough to wake up after burial and soar to bliss and pink clouds in... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Thu, 01 Nov 2007 04:46:00 PST |
Ill never see him again, and maybe its a good thing |
And the blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain. Now I'll never see him again, and maybe it's a good thing. He walked out of my life last night for once and for all. I know with sickening... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Sun, 05 Aug 2007 04:48:00 PST |
Not To Be Sentimental... |
... After being conditioned as a child to the lovely never-never land of magic, of fairy queens and virginal maidens, of little princes and their rose buches, of poignant bears and Eyore-ish donkeys, ... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Tue, 17 Jul 2007 01:17:00 PST |
Such sharp, brief, pistol-shot sentences! |
... Linda is the sort of girl you don't remember when you meet her for the second time. She is rather homely, and nondescript as an art gum eraser. Her eyes are nervous and bright like neurotic goldfi... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Tue, 03 Jul 2007 10:21:00 PST |
I don't care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual |
I wonder how I ever thought I was desirable. But inside, I know. I used to have sparkle, self-assurance. I didn't want to say I didn't give a damn about him, but just wanted to be kissed good and hard... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Tue, 26 Jun 2007 01:16:00 PST |
I saw his lips form the words, |
Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess, I'm afraid for myself... the old primitive urge for survival. It's getting so I live each moment with terrible intensity. Last night, driv... Posted by Sylvia Plath on Sat, 23 Jun 2007 11:12:00 PST |