spells of the imagination

 

"So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding wonderfully if only you were interested in them."

 

"The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt."

Sylvia Plath is such an amazing writer! I only wished I'd had enough time to've finished The Bell Jar before the library needed it back.

 

I feel rather ill this evening. I think it was something I ate...or one've the countless things I ate, or the multitude of what I ate, I don't know which. Probably all of the above I would imagine. Today is Sweetest Day {or so I found out just a few hours ago}. When I came home Malia {my lovable, trustworthy, ever loyal German Shepherd soft toy} was positioned atop've my baby blanket which was curiously draped over my pillow. When I picked up the blanket to cover her, I found beneath it were one've those large bakery cookies with Happy Sweetest Day written on it in a beautiful pink frosting. I felt so happy and guilty and sad all at once. After all I'd eaten I felt like a mother whale who was due to give birth any second. Cept in my case it'd be food...and it'd be coming out've my mouth b'coz there was no way I could fit anything else in that wonderful bottomless pit've mine. My body was about to reject everything. I didn't think there was any way I could, but despite my pain and mental torment, I had a piece b'coz I do love him and I was touched by the thought and idea that I got something special. It's a wonder to me how I didn't explode everywhere. I am always so ashamed of my binging. I always wish I could tell him, or tell someone, but I just can't. I wish, sometimes, that someone could install a zipper and lock on my lips and carry the key for me, locking it when I am in binge mode.

 

 

It may be silly of me, but I am going to put together a spell. I found this tiny tin pendent at the craft shop a while ago. I am going to write some things on a nice piece've paper, burn it and put the ashes inside along with some fur from my dog and fibers from Malia. Then I am going to drip some wax over it to seal my words. I'll wear it always and keep it near me at all times. Maybe the mental idea've it will be good for me. A reminder. I figure the words make the meaning, the fur and fibers bring it to life, and the wax is like a bonding agent to solidify the words.

 

I'm not sure yet if I want to keep what I write on the paper secret, or whether I will share it here.