10 October 2014

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I lift my lids and all is born again.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:

Exit seraphim and Satan's men:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,

But I grow old and I forget your name.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes they roar back again.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

-Sylvia Plath

Perhaps this is part of getting older, the lack of motivation to pen down my thoughts, to visit this space regularly and keep it alive. I've probably had the habit of "blogging" since secondary school. I remembering writing everything down in those online journals of mine, probably from what I ate that day to who made me upset. But nowadays, perhaps I've learnt, or become wary. I got to know the term "privacy" and realise that putting everything up also meant getting judged? Or that everyone would know every thought you hold, whether you want them to or not, without you knowing. And that seemed scary, very scary. 

Tonight I seem extra afraid of the dark. I've decided to switch on the lights while sleeping. I don't know what got into me, but I was afraid being too long in the dark, would cause me to feel upset, start thinking unnecessarily.