It's like watching Paris from an express caboose

There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room. It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction...every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and excitement at about a million miles an hour

Sylvia Plath ♥ - I

What did my arms do before they held you?

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing

And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart.

I am, I am, I am

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

Kiss me and you'll know how important I am

If you expect nothing from anybody, you're never disappointed.

Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between

There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends

Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted.

Is there no way out of the mind?

I talk to God but the sky is empty

Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning

If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.

You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.

I love life...

Can you understand? 

Someone, somewhere, 

can you understand me a little, love me a little? 

For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that... 

I love life.

 But it is hard, and I have so much... so very much to learn

Choosing one meant losing all the rest...

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. 

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet

I'm neurotic as hell.

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things 

at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. 

I'll be flying back and forth between 

one mutually exclusive thing and 

another for the rest of my days.

Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I lift my lids and all is born again.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:

Exit seraphim and Satan's men:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,

But I grow old and I forget your name.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes they roar back again.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

I am horribly limited

I can never read all the books I want;

 I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. 

I can never train myself in all the skills I want. 

And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, 

tones and variations of mental 

and physical experience possible in life. 

And I am horribly limited

Death must be so beautiful.

Death must be so beautiful. 

To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses 

waving above one's head, and listen to silence.

 To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. 

To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace

I have to live my life...

I love people. Everybody. I love them, 
I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. 
Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation 
is raw material for me. 
My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either.
 I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, 
and then come back to write about my thoughts,
 my emotions, as that person. 
But I am not omniscient. 
I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. 
And you cannot regard your own life 
with objective curiosity all the time...

All I want is blackness...blackness and silence.

Sometimes I feel like I am not… Solid. 
I'm hollow. There’s… Nothing behind my eyes.
 I'm a negative of a person. 
It's as if I never... I never thought anything. 
I never wrote... anything, I never felt anything. 
All I want is blackness... 
blackness and silence. 
Look, one thing I do know about death.. 
is it is not a...a reunion or a homecoming. 
There's... there is no your life doesn't flash 
before you and the missing pieces of you dont click into place. 
Its just…. there's fuck all. 
There is nothing. 
So what do you do when your life... gets as bad it can. 
And just keeps getting worse