Sheep In Fog

930 Words4 Pages
--a short story written after Sylvia Plath's poem "Sheep In Fog" Sylvia Plath was a good woman, who falls into a trench of depression, but continuing living with her life was not her fortitude with the feelings of depression. In many ways, she was like deadheads flowers in the garden, solitary and pessimistic, full of bad intentions where she has attempted suicide many times, exemplify herself as a horse’s movement, work full of gloomy by a wisdom of imprisonment and imminent death, believer in getting betrayed, disappointing everyone around her, hard-working, and the features of simplicity and multifaceted imageries. Like a death flower, Plath was also pinched toward desolation and enthusiasm with death. In December, it is foggy and…show more content…
I can see her riding a horse down the hill in the cold and enjoying the view around her, where I just see the clouds from the peak, the great salt lake in which the water is freezing like ice, and a lot of houses where it seems like no one has been living there for centuries, no human being has been seen, sun has not risen, where the hill are secreted covered with the beauty of snow and the fog’s whiteness, where everything is so blurry like a dream or imagination. It carries the perception of a contaminating and open-minded decomposition of clarity as well the interruption of a “darkness” into the “light” hope of the surroundings. Moreover, it elevated the anxieties of the parody of damaging of heavens into an undesirable feature which leads to be uncontaminated and unblemished “sheep,” but turned down blurred due to the plentiful trials actions, fog. In the mountains, everywhere is snowing, she…show more content…
It was outlandish how she habitually feels dissatisfied with people when others did not mention anything. She said, she might have fallen short of expectations and how she feels worthless between people because she feels uninvolved and small around the people; this generates an intellect that nature misfortunes her or finds her manifestation problematic for the people, so she does not fit well or feel comfortable around them. Many people at work places had so many expectations, but never were able to complete them, the pressure of work and their expectations has motionless me, where I did not care much about it. When things are not cherished, it slumps into disorder, includes rusting, she thought. More than anything, though, the train smoke streams off like breath, engine sound chug-chug-chug of the wheels, and the atrocious scream of the signal, vocation me into darkness. The smoke from the machine sneaking into the sky and tarnishing out the light, the sky is getting darker and darker, the fear of losing everything. Unforgettable memories that are not different challenges at describing the same thing, but instated an overwhelming list of unfair emotional states. A flower left out are like death to her. They kept reminding
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