Alright, since there is like three of you that actually read this I'm not going to bother doing all the copy right shit :P This is just something I ended up writting as a spark off to something someone else wrote. If anyone else stumbles across this fyi this is my shit I wrote this and all that blah I ever find you rinsed it I'll warn you I'm from glasgow and I'm not adverse to giving someone a kicking :D


( Cold Light )

The Bell Jar Sylvia Plath



“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.

From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig , a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe, Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and off beat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of these figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”