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"Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well."
(Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus)
My tea got cold again. I guess I waste my time too much on travelling to you in my mind. Just a few streets ahead, but still as if to another country.
This land is a desert of cold winds. Even they are able to combine, create a certain unit. Reunion of two unworthy spirits in the Waste Land, after a rough twilight.
It's just one of those days. Cold, November days. When everything is darker than it should. And so, even meeting myself in the mirror was painful. The castle of my soul has become a ruin with empty windows. It gives me the feeling that too many people would cheer if I tried to leave in peace.
Oh, but there would be no peace for me in the afterlife. I don't expect it to be dull and boring. Or glorious, hell, no! No virginal choirgirls with wings, nor boys so young and pure. Not even a single cloud of white, fragile like a snowflake.
I want to drink whisky with doctor Edelman after I die. And we would call names all those people who deserve it, drunk and merry. Then I plan meeting Richard III and together we shall paint all the red roses white. Burn Shakespeare's play, perhaps, though I generally respect literature.
As for the Bard, he would allow me to be Viola and turn you into Duke Orsino. Romeo and Juliet are too mainstreem, Hamlet and Ophelia too misunderstood by each other. Macbeth and his Lady, on the other hand, too possessed by the forces of evil. And we had enough of this in our lives.
Vivien Leigh would teach me how to act. You don't need such lessons, men of power are the most skilled actors in the world. Peter Bruegel would paint us, both running up that hill.
And if I met Sylvia Plath, I would not preach her that killing herself was irresponsible and wrong. She didn't do it - love was her true murderer. Could there have been any more poetic death?
But I do not envy her, all in all. No love is worth dying for, don't you agree?
Story & photo by me.
You may interpret it as you wish. ^^
The Bodzentyn castle, Poland.
June 2011
(Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus)
My tea got cold again. I guess I waste my time too much on travelling to you in my mind. Just a few streets ahead, but still as if to another country.
This land is a desert of cold winds. Even they are able to combine, create a certain unit. Reunion of two unworthy spirits in the Waste Land, after a rough twilight.
It's just one of those days. Cold, November days. When everything is darker than it should. And so, even meeting myself in the mirror was painful. The castle of my soul has become a ruin with empty windows. It gives me the feeling that too many people would cheer if I tried to leave in peace.
Oh, but there would be no peace for me in the afterlife. I don't expect it to be dull and boring. Or glorious, hell, no! No virginal choirgirls with wings, nor boys so young and pure. Not even a single cloud of white, fragile like a snowflake.
I want to drink whisky with doctor Edelman after I die. And we would call names all those people who deserve it, drunk and merry. Then I plan meeting Richard III and together we shall paint all the red roses white. Burn Shakespeare's play, perhaps, though I generally respect literature.
As for the Bard, he would allow me to be Viola and turn you into Duke Orsino. Romeo and Juliet are too mainstreem, Hamlet and Ophelia too misunderstood by each other. Macbeth and his Lady, on the other hand, too possessed by the forces of evil. And we had enough of this in our lives.
Vivien Leigh would teach me how to act. You don't need such lessons, men of power are the most skilled actors in the world. Peter Bruegel would paint us, both running up that hill.
And if I met Sylvia Plath, I would not preach her that killing herself was irresponsible and wrong. She didn't do it - love was her true murderer. Could there have been any more poetic death?
But I do not envy her, all in all. No love is worth dying for, don't you agree?
Story & photo by me.
You may interpret it as you wish. ^^
The Bodzentyn castle, Poland.
June 2011
Image size
1840x1450px 2.33 MB
© 2011 - 2024 Lady-CaT
Comments15
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"Dying is an art." As far as I'm concerned, it really is.