(no subject)
"
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
I know perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for the good it did me.
There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: "I'll go take a hot bath."
I meditate in the bath. The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water's up to your neck...
The longer I lay there in the clear hot water the purer I felt, and when I stepped out at last at wrapped myself in one of the big, soft white hotel bath towels I felt pure and sweet as a new baby. "
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
"
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
I know perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for the good it did me.
There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: "I'll go take a hot bath."
I meditate in the bath. The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water's up to your neck...
The longer I lay there in the clear hot water the purer I felt, and when I stepped out at last at wrapped myself in one of the big, soft white hotel bath towels I felt pure and sweet as a new baby. "
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
"