Fear in Four Hundred Words
I must admit, I am in constant fear of the future.
It has taken upon a persona, grim reaper, a hunter that stalks you. Let’s call him Death.
Here are the things I am afraid of (in no particular order):
1- myself.
Oh this is going to hurt. I fear for my health. My habits, both pleasing and lethal, are going to devour me alive. I am hoping to be blessed by some otherworldly being, let’s call this Life, and perhaps escape the trappings of this mortal coil.
2 – Death, of course!
All good things must end. And the end, as an absolute and irrevocable truth, will be known by us all. I just choose not to know, that’s all.
3- Others. My close second.
Not friends, family, lovers or any other bond of mutual respect, but those who share no such bonds. Those who know you not, and those who just do not care. I constantly fear the acts of those who do not see what is there to be cherished; Each and all, everything, a thing in itself. I am no claimant to pure mutual respect, but I live in a country were appeals are possible and encouraged, and thus one day, one far away day, someone will create an idea so powerful that all shall be affected and everyone will agree. It will be harmony. Peace on the mother fuckin’ Earth; fat fucking’ chance.
4- Love.
Yeah, that’s right, Love. And why not? If all things end, then so not the bonds of matrimony? Hardly. As sure as the plate that is knocked over the counter, hearts shatter. Sometimes those shards can cut you, and deep too. Since the fear in oneself is paramount, one becomes the loneliest number (yea, I said that too), and relations built on one becoming two are inherently paradoxical, and dangerous.
5 – Life.
Simply put, the very idea that we are prancing about on a blue marble spinning – careening – across an expanse made up of nothing, disturbs me to the core. Reality is a bitch.
6 – God.
A little bit of God-fearing meandering waffle never hurt anybody. If everyone believed there was a karma scoreboard above their heads, people would be collecting a lot more coins in that department. For this the only philosophical recourse that should be prescribed is rudimentary; good is good and bad is bad, d’uh. Stupid fucking humans.
7 – Chaos.
Whatever can happen, will.
Merde.
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