Journal Entry: Bitter Haze

bitter

The following journal entry is inspired by Sylvia Plath’s Unabridged Journals Entry 158

“Again, I cannot help muse upon the imprisonment of the individual in the cell of her own limitations.” She is like a wind that hath no fury, a style with no grace. Always yearning for more than what she allows herself to comprehend.

She is abysmal to her own self-loathing, oblivious to her own strength. She knows not, dares not, sees not what she can accomplish.

A sad, sad, soul indeed. She lost her place in a world of concede. A bitter lot in these better days. So many nights locked up in a bitter haze.

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