Tuesday, 11 February 2014

There is a charge for the hearing of my heart- it really goes.

Today is the 51st anniversary of Sylvia Plath’s death, and I think the 151st of Elizabeth Siddal’s. Strange coincidence, things always seem to happen on 11ths or 22nds for me. This 11th however, brings nothing in particular. It snowed though. I watched it fall soft as chiffon past the library window as I tried to desperately cram for my subsequent maths exam, tomorrow is history and art, at least they're two fields I have some vague idea about. I can feel the last few feeble tugs of winter and all that comes with it pulling at me; little belligerent threads. I refuse to be dragged away.

(The title of this post comes from Plath’a Lady Lazarus, I'm using my phone to write this and can't find a suitable link, but will amend that as soon as I get near a laptop.) 


  1. Strange, big things always happen for me on the 11th of each month it seems. I'm glad you aren't letting winter drag you down. It's been trying with me too. It's won some battles, but spring will always win the war.

    Tightrope to the Sun

  2. keep holding out against winter, spring is almost nearly here.

  3. It will be over soon, like everything else. Somehow I find that thought comforting.



  4. Ugh tests and chill weather is also my life right now...


  5. the fact that everything will be over is the most scary. and i think it is to all bright humans, as long as they are not numbed with prozac. it is the origin of all art, of all quest for meaning. the awareness that everything will be over made our dear sylvia kill herself, didn't it? i guess because she was aware of what this really means.

    oh, Maija our sacred obscurity. i do understand. and good luck with your exams. i am sure you will be brilliant. you are too smart to mess up anything. let me know how it went!


  6. oh how I miss the snow. I love your blog btw


Thank you for your words.