Touched Up by an Angel

The only way to make something more annoying is to slap some wings on it. But they are such impassioned little cronies, frolicking about the manicured lawns in their tunics. Singing 'Hey Jude' with quivering falsettos.

Plath a-Nonplussed

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.