IS FOG BEAUTIFUL?
MOST DEFINITELY NOT!
Entry #1
16th of November 2014
So I was having a casual conversation with my friend and she posts a random picture of a bus-stop on a hillside covered in fog. Well, not exactly random considering she lives on a hill but I still class it as random in the conversation.
Well, she posts this picture and writes the following caption below it:
“What a beautiful foggy day?”
Upon seeing the words ‘beautiful’ and ‘foggy’ in the same sentences, something must have triggered inside my head. I realised how much I despised the fog. This may have something to do with the difficult journey home I had the night before, commuting back from work but that doesn’t change the fact that I dislike the fog.
Beautiful is not a word I would use to describe fog. Beautifully terrifying maybe but most definitely not beautiful. I know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder and some may find a fog-laden hillside a delight to view. I do not!
Mist is another thing completely. A misty mountain side a pleasure to the eyes, heart and soul. I could sit out on a cold morning and observe it all day. With fog however, there is nothing much to see.
It’s just nothingness.
A thick, heavy cloud of ugly nothingness.
No. Not beautiful. I’ve got plenty of other words I could use instead, such as:
- Cunning
- Deceitful
- Misleading
- Hostile
- Mysterious
- Eerie
- Claustraphonic
I would even go as far as using the word ‘demonic’ but none of these words would even come close to beautiful.
I imagine fog as the disgusting, foul breath of a rotting, malevolent beast of a demon that feeds on misery and suffering. It spreads across the land, engulfing it all in its realm causing as much mischief and mayhem as it possibly can in its time frame.
The malicious grey color comes from collecting souls of those that perish under its confinement. They drift around hopelessly, trying to free themselves of the constant torment they are faced to endure.
It’s thick nature is derived from nature itself. All the pain and suffering brought upon the lands by humans rises up and meets this breath. Evil draws dark thoughts towards it and the result is this heavy, suffocating blanket that drapes itself over your very breath, hoping to strangulate you into a despairing depression for eternity.
Although in the day, it may only seem like a spiteful spirit that wishes you rot in hell. During the night, it becomes a demon that is hell-bent on taking you down to the depths of hell with him.
I would know… I have to drive through it at night. Lights are hardly effective against its spell; only clearing a few yards of sight at most. It’s like running down a hill with blurred vision, whilst only being able to stare at your feet; having to judge your path at the last possible moment.
Most people would run at a snail’s pace, afraid of challenging such a demonic creature.
But not me!
I declare war upon the beast, defying its nature and rage against its ruling. I know, this reign will end sooner or later but I will not succumb to its pressure. No, I am too proud to go down without a fight.
I still made it back home in time despite of everything with a proud, pleasant smile of satisfaction and accomplishment on my face.
So there you have it, my thoughts on fog. I may have gone overboard a little with my imagination but that doesn’t change the fact I hate it with a passion. Although to be fair, it does remind of certain pleasant memories such as playing Silent Hill or watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
But despite that fact… Despite it all… I HATE FOG!