Answer:
Emily is clearly linked to a monument--a symbol of death--in this passage. Many people think of tributes to the dead or to fallen heroes when they think of monuments. Monuments are found in many cemeteries, often to remember the famous or dead who are buried there. Faulkner connects Emily to a '' fallen monument'', to reinforce the theme of decay, a reminder that all things will fall to ruin. Monuments will crumble, societies will falter, and Emily and the other townspeople will die.
Explanation:
Symbols of death are as pervasive as the fine dust that coats Miss Emily's house in this short story. The dust covers everything in Emily's house, and the men who go there to attempt to collect Emily's taxes notice that the hallway ''smelled of dust and disuse.'' When they are seated in the parlor, ''a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.''
Dust coats everything in the secret room where Emily's horrifying secret is revealed and the townspeople learn that she has killed Homer Barron, her boyfriend, and kept his body. After Emily's neighbors break down the door of the secret room, they are shocked to see that ''What was left of him, rotted beneath what was left of the nightshirt, had become inextricable from the bed in which he lay; and upon him and upon the pillow beside him lay that even coating of the patient and biding dust.''
Side Note:
I hope this helps you in some or any way.
You might be non binary or gender fluid from the sounds of it or maybe Demi gender if you said you mostly feel like a girl.
Answer:
autobiography - comes directly from the person themself
Answer:
You can make a schedule. The use of a schedule will help you organize what you have to do. A schedule helps you keep track of what you should do for the day and make it less stressful than doing everything at once.
Hope this helps!
Looking out my small window, past our small yard and wooden fence, and into the streets, I didn't know what to feel. The shop I once visited, and filled my mouth with sweet treats, was now slowly burning to the ground. People ran up and down the streets shouting things I didn't understand. Cars were broken into, setting off the alarms. A small child sat on the sidewalk, his tear stained face was blotchy, and his eyes were empty. I stepped away from the window not wanting to see anymore. My parents were out on holiday, and there was nowhere else for me to go. I sat at the edge of my bed; and cried. Why is this world filled with chaos? Why are the minds of adults so corrupted? I stood and walked to my window, threw it open, and shouted.
"Why is earth filled with such madness?!"
At that moment I heard the door downstairs fly open, feet stomped up the stairs and towards my bedroom. I sat on the ground, knowing that there was no more hope, and I surrendered to the wrath of the world.
