Top Five Fears

In no particular order:

5. Things with more than five legs, excluding sofas and deities

I dunno why, but it's just unnatural for anything to have that many legs... When I see these alien creatures creeping & crawling I can feel their legs under my skin, skittering under my flesh... Personally I think centipedes and spiders are left overs from a time when the world was overrun by chaos and mutants before there was balance and unity... somehow God forgot to squish them under his colossal sandal. ABOMINATION!

4. clowns, but not mimes

Just like spiders are remains of an alien diminsion, clowns are relics of a hell dimension. Giant feet, huge grimacing lips, deathly pale skin, bloated stomachs and noses, usually reaking of alcohol. What's funny about that? NOTHING, it's fucking terrifying is what it is. They're demons, plain and simple, and any parents who lets their children anywhere near one deserves to be eaten. What worries me the most is that they aren't the kind of scary that makes me run away, they're the kind of scary that makes me want to kill them for the sake of the human race. Seriously... one of these days some clown is gonna try and give me a balloon spider and I'm going to strangle him until he bleeds silly string from his eyes.

3. dark caves (no fruedyisms please)

I've been in more than one dark cave by myself and deeper I get, the more panicy I become. It's not that I'm afraid of the dark nor confined spaces... It's partly to do with the dormant unknown that might be lying in wait (feeling along the dank walls; feeling spiders, clowns, spiders, clowns) and partly that I'm afraid I'll fall and get hurt. So why have I crept into these places alone? I like to face my fears.

2. being crippled or disfigured

That would just suck. Mostly this is my ego's fear of annhilation of the self... so hopefully I will get over this one.

1. drowning

I almost drowned last year with my ex-gf, G. Before we knew what was happening the tide had pulled us out to sea. We could faintly see people gathering on the beach waving their arms and yelling. (Lucky us, the lifeguard was away at the hospital delivering his baby... a life for a life, almost.) I remember the sharp realization that came with knowing we were in serious, serious danger of dying. That this could be it. We desperatly struggled against the currents; stroke, stroke, dive under a wave, stroke, stroke, get smacked by a wave, stroke, stroke, dive, one breath at the wrong instant meant a mouth full of water. The scariest moments were everytime a wave would come along I would lose sight of G until it subsided, an eternal second of wondering if she was going to sink or surface, of knowing that I would dive after her, of knowing that we were going to die like that. I saw myself sinking, looking up to see the defracted light getting dimmer and futher from reach, grasping for G's hand in one final attempt at rescue, feeling so cold, so tired, so heavy.... Darkness.

I wanted to live... for the first time in awhile I really wanted to live, but it unbearable to keep the pace, so hard to breath and float... the ocean was so much more than us, we might as well have been paper boats in a blender. The relief of feeling sand under my feet again must have been like how the hanging man feels when his flailing legs finally meet the safety of solid ground. We crawled our weak asses back onto the beach, as far from the water as our exhaustion would allow, taking great gulping breaths of the salty air. It took awhile to get back in and my feet never trailed far from the bottom.

When I see the ocean I am humbled by it's awesome gravity. Even now, I'm still there.