I wondered at what point in space the silly, sham blue of the sky turned black #SylviaPlath

Go out & do something. It isn't your room that's a prison, it's yourself #SylviaPlath

What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination #SylviaPlath

If you expect #nothing from anybody, you're never disappointed #SylviaPlath

Indecision & reveries are the anesthetics of constructive action #SylviaPlath

The frost makes a flower, the dew makes a star #SylviaPlath

I'll be flying back & forth between one mutually exclusive thing & another for the rest of my days #SylviaPlath

The present is forever & forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. When it is gone it is dead #SylviaPlath

Today's poem is by 'Daddy' by Sylvia Plath. You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy,

image source: google image “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath

at the point of no return from abyss my muse knows thundering bliss outward capturing emblazons hell locked in this veil--ring myth of woo-- bells frozen in time--grasp knowing neither day nor song is