Well I suppose it all comes down to simply sitting my ass down and writing. I don't know what I fear, when it comes to the blog, that is. I know plenty what I fear in real life, when I'm not a set of numb elbows connected to fingers fluttering on a plastic tray full of buttons. In real life I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of the ghosts that haunt my imagination. I'm afraid of dressing room needles. I'm afraid of rejection although I stopped caring so I still try. I'm afraid of dying alone. I'm afraid of burning my forearm while reaching for a pizza. I'm afraid of shushing somebody who doesn't deserve it although most people usually deserve it. I'm afraid of not understanding children because as a child I always felt misunderstood. I'm afraid of finding love but I'm much more afraid of not finding it. I'm slightly afraid of heights but I trust my self-control enough to know I will not jump. I'm afraid of infection. I'm afraid the pan-asian place I order from will forget the rice. Again. I'm afraid for humanity but I refuse to submit my resignation from the species as I believe we need more people like me, even though I don't quite know I want to reproduce. I am afraid of clowns although if I may clarify, I am specifically afraid of the sadness of a clown's life, of them getting ready, washing their clown clothes, putting on the makeup, tying their clown shoes, driving to parties and stopping at a gas stations for gas and beef jerky and cigarettes and mountain dew, making children and weirdos smile for three hours then sobbing silently on their way home while they deposit their check at the bank so that they may pay their clown mortgage. I'm afraid of misspelling a word in a letter to a hottie (not really). I'm afraid that the future holds more horribleness than the past. I'm afraid of saying too much and not saying enough. I'm afraid of false dichotomies. I'm afraid of turning into one of those writer fuckheads who writes only of his childhood and his relationship to his parents even though I have plenty of interesting shit to write about when it comes to those two jokers, although I fear my experience, while unique, is sadly not unusual. They taught me both-- things to do, which I love them for, and things not to do, for which I'm grateful they gifted me the wisdom to notice.I'm afraid of other drivers. I'm afraid of liver as a food but not as an organ. I'm afraid of the pancreas. I'm afraid of being eaten alive by ants. I'm afraid we will run out of metal and will have to go back to wooden coins and then we'll run out of trees and we'll have to go back to sea shells, which will be awkward to carry and will give those living near beaches a distinct advantage in raising funds. I'm afraid of being stung by a lionfish. I'm afraid my dreams are more interesting than my life although in my defense I have pretty fucked up dreams. I'm afraid of cats, not that I don't think I could take one down if the situation called for it, but still. I came close to having to take one down once. Fucking cats.