February 02, 2010
I've been reading much Sylvia Plath of late. I tend to skip back and forth in her unabridged journal for heightened contrast. Cheery, abysmal, excited, despairing, cheeky, morbid. Here, she is seen modeling a chimeric outfit assembled from the various black and white photos available. She is currently more on the pensive side, with potentially negative tendencies.
Actually I have no idea what I'm doing. I keep opening the book at random, reading a page, closing it, and repeating the process. No bookmark, no brain, no problem.