I’m reading: Pain, Parties, Work:
Sylvia Plath in New York
My “A R T” is words.
Irrelevant. Multicolored. Shadowy. Golden. Inadequate. Halleluiahs. Grief-Stricken,
& tasting of cinnamon, nutmeg, mandarin Kool-Aid.
~~~~I have been known to obsess over things….become addicted to this and that, that and this.
What a shocker.
For example, I wore out my Robin Thicke CD; my “Immaculate Conception” cassette (yes, cassette) by Ms. Madonna has unraveled, and I can’t keep chocolate in the house without devouring every last rotten good for nothin’ fabulous piece.