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I do not know who I am tonight.

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
Tonight

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All the heat and fear had purged itself. I felt surprisingly at peace. The bell jar hung suspended a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air.
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The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me Cruelly, being barren. Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
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I have the one person I could ever love in this world. Now I must work to be a person worthy of that.
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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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The claw of the magnolia, drunk on its own scents, asks nothing of life.
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I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.
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That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. Save them for my funeral, I'd said.
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I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.
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There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
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Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted.
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I'm happier writing about doctors than I would have been being one.
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If only a group of people were more important to me than the idea of a Novel, I might begin a novel.
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I do not fear it: I have been there.
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But when I took up my pen, my hand made big, jerky letters like those of a child, and the lines sloped down the page from left to right horizontally, as if they were loops of string lying on the paper, and someone had come along and blown them askew.
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What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid.
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I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.
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I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.
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I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free—— The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
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One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.
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Pretty soon, the only doubt in my mind was the precise time and method of committing suicide. The only alternative I could see was an eternity of hell for the rest of my life in a mental hospital, and I was going to use my last ounce of free choice and choose a quick clean ending.
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