![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Sylvia is in college.
_ _ _
Last night we had our first fire drill. I was jerked into consciousness by a hoarse metallic siren scraping along the edges of sleep. I did not know from what dark pool of quicksand I had been torn. I thought first, my alarm clock has gone off at the wrong time. I reached frantically to turn it off, prodded by the inhuman screech of the siren. Then I knew. I leapt on my feet, grabbed coat & towel and burst out of my room, padding downstairs with the rest of the girls. We stood huddled in the hall, everyone in a sleepy, unreal stupor. I smiled shakily at someone. I went upstairs and fell into bed after they called roll. My nerves pained keenly. My fever made me restless, uneasy. So this is what we have to learn to be part of a community: to respond blindly, unconsciously to electronic sirens shrilling in the middle of the night. I hate it. But someday I have to learn - someday -
-- Sylvia Plath, The Journals 1950 - 1953
_ _ _
She dates the entry for October, and it marks her first account of college life. I am surprised and a little disappointed that she did not care to record anything from her first weeks in college. I guess the experience of so many new faces and new situations, along with a serious academic workload, kind of just washed over her. I can sympathize. I sorely regret that I did such a lousy job on my own journal during the college years, when I actually had a bit of a social life to write about.
_ _ _
Last night we had our first fire drill. I was jerked into consciousness by a hoarse metallic siren scraping along the edges of sleep. I did not know from what dark pool of quicksand I had been torn. I thought first, my alarm clock has gone off at the wrong time. I reached frantically to turn it off, prodded by the inhuman screech of the siren. Then I knew. I leapt on my feet, grabbed coat & towel and burst out of my room, padding downstairs with the rest of the girls. We stood huddled in the hall, everyone in a sleepy, unreal stupor. I smiled shakily at someone. I went upstairs and fell into bed after they called roll. My nerves pained keenly. My fever made me restless, uneasy. So this is what we have to learn to be part of a community: to respond blindly, unconsciously to electronic sirens shrilling in the middle of the night. I hate it. But someday I have to learn - someday -
-- Sylvia Plath, The Journals 1950 - 1953
_ _ _
She dates the entry for October, and it marks her first account of college life. I am surprised and a little disappointed that she did not care to record anything from her first weeks in college. I guess the experience of so many new faces and new situations, along with a serious academic workload, kind of just washed over her. I can sympathize. I sorely regret that I did such a lousy job on my own journal during the college years, when I actually had a bit of a social life to write about.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Sylvia "I'm Not Morose!" Plath
Date: 2012-04-01 07:35 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-04-01 08:15 pm (UTC)From: