Author:  Sylvia Plath
Viewed: 108 - Published at: 10 years ago

So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon… I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down.

( Sylvia Plath )
[ The Journals of Sylvia Plath ]
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