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I tried to speak in a cool, calm way, but the zombie rose up in my throat and choked me off.

Sylvia Plath

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Sylvia Plath
Age: 30 †
Born: 1932
Born: October 27
Died: 1963
Died: February 11
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Victoria Lucas
Sylvia Plath Hughes
Throat
Calm
Cool
Rose
Tried
Speak
Way
Choked
Zombie

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It was my last act of love (first words to her mother in the hospital after her first major suicide attempt)
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You ask me why I spend my life writing? Do I find entertainment? Is it worthwhile? Above all, does it pay? If not, then, is there a reason?... I write only because there is a voice within me. That will not be still.
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What I cannot forgive is dishonesty - and no matter what, or how hard, I would rather know the truth of which I today had such a clear & devastating vision from his mouth than hear foul evasions, blurrings and rattiness.
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I am made, crudely, for success.
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God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
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And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.
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The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
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I get into a rut, unable to yank my mind out of it.
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I used to pray to recover you.
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Joy:show joy & enjoy: then others will be joyful.
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The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment.
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I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.
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I am myself. That is not enough.
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I want to kill myself, to escape from responsiblity, to crawl abjectly back into the womb.
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I said: I must remember this, being small.
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The silence between us was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault.
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I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root: It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there.
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I can't think logically about who I am or where I am going. I have been very ecstatic, horribly depressed, shocked, elated, enlightened, and enervated.
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I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.
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I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see, I swallow immediately. Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful.
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