There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding, waiting for me to grasp it. It is the same tantalising sensation when you almost remember a name, but don’t quite reach it. I can feel it when I think of human beings, of the hints of evolution suggested by the removal of wisdom teeth, the narrowing of the jaw no longer needed to chew such roughage as it was accustomed to; the gradual disappearance of hair from the human body; the adjustment of the human eye to the fine print, the swift, coloured motion of the twentieth century. The feeling comes, vague and nebulous, when I consider the prolonged adolescence of our species … Perhaps someday the revelation will burst in upon me and I will see the other side of this monumental grotesque joke. And I’ll laugh. And then I’ll know what life is.
―
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journal
done. i am done with it.
you dont make me happy anymore.
all you do is make me sad.
(Source: restlessasthetarantula)
