Teens writing

Since I am always reading from the Journals of Sylvia Plath I thought I could post something here. This was written when she was eighteen (!), and her journal entries are outstanding even when she was that young.

I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love’s not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I’ll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time…

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Goodbye America

NY2009 022

Goodbye America. Living on your land for almost a decade was absolutely amazing.
I hope to see you again soon.

Departure  – by Arthur Rimbaud
(translation taken from here)

Enough seen. The vision was encountered under all skies.
Enough had. Sounds of cities, evening, and in the light, and always.
Enough known. The decisions of life. – O Sounds and Visions!
Departure into new affection and noise!


You’ve travelled this long / You just have to go on / Don’t even look back to see/ How far you’ve come