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Meanwhile in my head, I'm undergoing open-heart surgery - Anne Sexton
301"The ink, the stain,
the shape. The color. I’m a
bird. I’m everything. Without any more
confusion. All the bells.
The rules. The lands. The
big grove, the greatest
tenderness. The immense tide.
Garbage. Water jar, cardboard
cards. Dice digits duets
vain hope of constructing
the cloths. The kings.
To silly. My nails. The
thread and the hair. The bantering nerve
I’m going with myself. Tne absent
minute. I have stolen you and
I leave weeping. I’m just kidding." - Frida Kahlo, from a diary entry
2437"I have not forgotten you — the nights are long and difficult." - Frida Kahlo, from a diary entry
141"The futility of it all—.so I broke off; and have indeed been feeling that rather persistently […] I know the feeling now, when I can’t spin a sentence and sit mumbling and turning; and nothing flits by my brain, which is as a blank window. So I shut my studio door and go to bed, stuffing my ears with rubber; and there I lie a day or two. And what leagues I travel in, the time! Such “sensations” spread over my spine and head directly I give them the chance; such an exaggerated tiredness; such anguishes and despairs; and heavenly relief and rest; and then misery again. Never was anyone so tossed up and down by the body as I am, I think. But it is over; and put away…" - Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry
1065"I suppose my depression is a form of vanity." - Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry
370"And I do not love my kind. I detest them. I pass them by. I let them break on me like dirty rain drops. No longer can I summon up that energy which, when it sees one of these dry little shapes floating past, or rather stuck on the rock, sweeps round them, steeps them, infuses them, nerves them, and so finally fills them and creates them. Once I had a gift for doing this, and a passion, and it made parties arduous and exciting. So when I wake early now I luxuriate most in a whole day alone; a day of easy natural poses, a little printing; slipping tranquilly off into the deep water of my own thoughts navigating the underworld […]" - Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry
196"It is a general sense of the poetry of existence that overcomes me. I have the sense of the flight of time; and this shores up my emotions." - Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry
454"I am worried about being lazy if happy, worried about being self-deluding if working on anything. So little myself all other identities threaten me. Dreamer forever." - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
435"I castigate myself so completely. A fury of anger and frustration and self-pity. What a mess I am. Why must I punish myself, or save myself, by pretending I am stupid and can’t feel?" - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
530"Why should I want it still. What can I do with this want. How can I transfer it to something I can have?" - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
742"Why did I feel I needed to be punished, to punish myself. Why do I feel now I should be guilty, unhappy: and feel guilty if I am not?" - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
359"I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I gave. Afraid of having love all unaccepted, left over. Shame at this." - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
263"I dug up things which hurt and made me cry. Why do I cry with her and only with her?" - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
391"I must not be selfless: develop a sense of self. A solidness that can’t be attacked." - Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
349"I feel that I can float everything off now; & “everything” is rather a crowd & weight & confusion in the mind." - Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry dated, 23 February 1926 

(via wavingtovirginia)

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