(no subject)

[iceinyourmusic]

So here's the thing, I can't make any sense out of my schedule for this autumn, not short-term, not long-term. I'm trying but I can't right now, and it makes me want to cry a little.

After Sylvia had asked for her letters back, Eddie wrote expressing astonishment at her sudden upsurge of joy and energy but bitterly castigating her for her egotism. Perceptively, he - not for the first time - went right to the heart of the matter. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might make carbon copies of your personal letters?" he blazed. "The principle seems to be about the same, and would indicate in either case that you wrote them for the sake of your own ego rather than the illumination of, or contact with, the addressee. What you are asking, in effect, is the act of a woman who gets a great deal of pleasure from looking into a mirror. A very flattering mirror at that."

- Anne Stevenson: Bitter Fame - A Life of Sylvia Plath