when hapiness takes over
Sylvia Plath is now describing hot baths through her character-in-New-York's view and its pure feeling won't stop echoing in my mind. It's been a while since I braked my thoughts away in order to lay inside a bathtub, get rid of all cold and coldness outside to feel like I am blessed. It's also been a while since I read a whole book in the freezing weather accompanied by an expensive cigarrette, before I came back home and wanted a hot bath as bad as I wanted to turn the heater on so it would dry up all nostalgia because I was too busy changing myself in an unknown home and city of my own. It's been a while since I read a whole book, since I lit up a cigarrette and since I felt cold enough to take hot baths and turn heaters on. Some old habits, against all odds, have died. There is no place here for them to take. Sometimes it feels strange... Everything seems to be vanishing, and holding onto memories and sensations gets harder as days go by. It's hot ...