Wrenching Words from the Spillage of my Soul

Esther in "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath. Even though she was from a different era and my circumstances varied greatly from hers, I understand her Soul. This book was published as a fictional novel, with the superficial details of names, dates, and locations imagined, but the heart of it, the Soul of it is autobiographical. I used to humor the idea that I was Sylvia's Soul incarnate. The description of her feelings in "The Bell Jar" made me feel like she was in my head, assembling my thoughts into written words.

The transmutation of suffocation from mental to physical, the sincerety of a synonymous duality, the mirthful disdain towards humanity, the healing haven of a hot bath, the tired desperation of despair...she has translated my Soul through her words...

It's...ironic?..that she died by way of her head in the oven, sucking all the oxygen out of her, such as one of the scientific usages of a bell jar, which is to create a vacuum to suck out all the air.