There is a slight contradiction that lurks in my head: I am a daydreamer with a seriously over-active imagination, yet am fairly strict in my system of beliefs. It’s akin to having no superstitions, yet still avoiding ladders or knocking on wood, if out of habit. A walking, talking set of double-standards.
Even though I know that the real dangers in life involve things like: strangers, weapons, sharp objects, wild animals, and electricity, I am most afraid of the things that are relatively harmless in nature. Perhaps my imagination is simply stronger than my sense of logic and reason.
It takes no small amount of effort for me to look at a mirror straight in (especially very late at night). At my age, I know beyond any shadow of doubt that nothing is going to happen. Nothing at all. But during this bit of clarity, my subconscious plants the notion that my mirrored self might move in a way that I do not, or appear suddenly (and grotesquely) decayed. Worse yet, what if I spot someone else standing behind me who is not actually there? An apparition? I shudder at the thought.
Windows (not the operating system) qualify with mirrors in my opinion, because at night they become black and shiny with their mysterious reflections. A disadvantage of an uncovered window is that they hide the things that lurk in the outside night – or what might be peering back at you from the shadows, just far enough away for you to not see. Draw the curtains, pull the shades down, retain the privacy. Keep the illusion of safety strong every night.
These monstrous animals have frighteningly huge dark eyes, almost like a shark. A single tooth is nearly the size of a modern cell phone. Their huge, muscular bodies could crush your skull faster than you can shout “Black Beauty”. I don’t even like how they smell. Nasty beasts. Keep them away, please.
Does it makes sense to be afraid of horses? Not really. But there again, common sense takes a back seat when imagination decides to drive. What’s a creative guy like me expected to do, really?
I also have a slight fear of high places, with one rather odd exception: I am only afraid when my feet aren’t touching anything solid. Thus, standing in a tall building and looking out is fine. Gazing over the wonders of the Grand Canyon is also pretty cool. But Ferris wheels do freak me out a bit, with my feet just hanging there, waiting to get snagged on something. And you’ll never get me to do that thing where you get pulled by a boat and launched into the air on a goddamn kite. That’s just madness.
I grew up on a rich diet of horror movies. I spent my teenage years living near a thick wooded area. I played things such as Dungeons & Dragons. I read Stephen King (and many other) novels well after midnight. I drew all the monsters that I found in my head. In some ways, I became the master of my own fears. I embraced dark things, because I lived in the dark.
To be completely honest though, it’s quite alright. Having these fears reminds me that I am not perfect, that I am still human, and that I still have the creativity needed to be who I am now. Without these fears, life would be pretty boring.
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