As any fisherman will tell you (or not) it is a scary thing to open a can of worms. So today i decided to do just that, admit and fess up to what gets my goolies in a spin the most. I tried to name ten things i was scared of, with shrouding robes of repression flung upon the clothes horse of fearlessness. And it was really quite queasing to do in a pleasing way, to denude onself, be honest about weakness, publically. So here are 10:
Being. One thing I have a massive amount of fear about. Imagine a woolly mammoth endlessly unloading its rear end on-top of you, and you standing there open-mouthed your bladder hopping up and down like a stammering question mark and a clever little animal sitting on your shoulder saying "Come on you can do better than that!". Well that is certainly a description near to what it can feel like when you are sturggling "To Be", and the smart-arsed sprite is none other than one's cynical side. But as a wise man once said: "You can't start beautifully. Don't be afraid of being a fool. Start as a fool" (Nathalie Lugand, esquire).
Buskers. It's not that I am offended by the toe-ragging little squirt Mistering-me with a coin-sized bag hungry as a badgering polyp. No, it is just that I was walking down the straight pavement, counting the paving stones, and Whoop, up jumps some music and asks me to Be another way. Music. It stops like a touring bus, whooshes its warm-wafting door wide, and with a present eye draws in all around it. Let it be for you too Tommy! I shall have to go and jam with one some day.
Doing nothing. Schieze! Is there not some pocket sized chocolate coated philosophy sprinkle I can have Meeem with my cereal ce morning? It's difficult for me to just do that, as I don't want to be with my thoughts.
Dark. Yes, still. Imagining the white witch with her sickle sword and cold face, behind me, running after me as in dreams which woke me up when I was a boy. And turning on the light, at the switch sooner than walking.
Touch. Yes, some people, well girls, tend to bump into you when out awalking with them. Thomas, my dear, this meaneth no more Than it meaneth. But seriously, the touch of another is a question of acceptance in some way. I am waffling, next fear...
C'mon, I want ten! Right, this can only be summarised in a word Mr Ford would have probably used five times before breakfast, Productivity. Yessum, how productive have you been today? OR rather, how productive are you NOW? That's it, another Fear of mine, Productivity!
MIRRORS. I am terrified of mirrors, and they are terrified by me even sometimes. When you are scared the mirror is scared of you. Photogenicity is being comfortable one would guess. But mirrors show you how you show yourself, they show you your image, your Persona. And the thronged processioned Mall of marching constituents hashing together your self's presentation. Yes, mirrors shows me to be in a Changing the Colour limbo more often than not. It's scary to see such shimmying and skidding on ice. They watch me in shops sometimes.
Spending money. Well, its not that I like it i think, more that i would rather not have it at all. The hassle of the bank balance. Or maybe i am just stingy.
Ah, so just seven, leaves me room for more.
Can you count to ten with fears?
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