Vitória Passos’s Reviews > The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath > Status Update

you want to live as many lives as you can... you're a capitalist from way back... and because you're eighteen, because you're still vulnerable, because you still don't have faith in yourself, you talk a little fliply, a little too wisely, just to cover up so you won't be accused of sentimentality or emotionalism or feminine tactics

so you will rot in the ground, and so you say, what the hell? who cares? but you care

(I said there was a "sea." no, I will chide myself. there was only a cushion, and a tray of icecream and cookies. but it served, it served.)

(which is gone, even as my pen scratches the first "i.")

... I don't believe there is life after death in the literal sense. I don't believe my individual ego or spirit is unique and important enough to wake up after burial and soar to bliss and pink clouds in heaven.

and if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.

“bits of hair, and rotting apple cores. I am feeling depressed from being exposed to so many lives…”

I believe that there are people who think as I do, who have thought as I do, who will think as I do. / frustrated? yes. why? because it is impossible for me to be God (or anything much. I am what I feel and think and do.)