In a way, everyone is trapped in their own Bell Jar.

So this morning I had finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (Who is BY FAR my favorite author. EVER. and that's saying a lot.)
But this book was truly monumental for me.
I can't even explain the impact that I felt one I read that last sentence.
I have wanted to read this book for like the last three years of my LIFE.
Seriously.
I read a small excerpt from it awhile ago and fell in love.

"But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it.
 It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, 
but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at."


This little quote got me through some tough times man. And now that I know completely the context it was truly in. It just means so much more now.
That book was such an epic journey. 
It was written so absolutely BRILLIANTLY. 
I am truly just smitten to bits over this book.
It's just AH.
Everything about it is perfect.
Plath's use of metaphor of the bell jar is genius. Absolutely fucking genius.


I can't think of anything else to really blog about.
Well nothing that won't make me a tad bit upset and turn into a large rant about work.
Which tonight I'm really not in the mood to rant about.