Limbo

Sometimes I feel like life is limbo, or at least high school. In this vein of thought, I will quote Sylvia Plath.

"when the face of god is gone and the sun pales behind wan veils of chill mist, she vomits at the gray neuter neutralities of limbo and seeks the red flame and smoking snakes that devour eternally the limbs of the damned."

Sylvia Plath wrote this in a letter to her friend Richard Sassoon. I hope to be able to write someday with the same intensity and dark beauty with which she wrote this sentence. I am still working on memorizing it. I have always wanted to memorize great lines of writing and to keep them in my head for use in conversation, given the proper context, the way some people do...