get to know me: [5/5] favourite books → the bell jar by sylvia plath
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 the 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.
posted 2 years ago on 2nd March
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t:litedit the bell jar
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