Going away

I'm leaving for Ukraine to see my relatives tomorrow morning and posting from there might be harder than usual. I have been doddering around, doing little. Wearing perfume at home to avoid the suffocating smell of my own sweat, listening to lovely music splayed out on the floor, drinking cups and cups of tea. Summer living.

I've been reading Sylvia Plath's diaries and she continues to fascinate me. I find a comforting familiarity with her overwhelming ambition to write.

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.)