A sketch of recurring dream I have, in which the fear I wake up with is what stays with me. A late night conversation with friends.
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A conversation starter thrown out in the dark, almost carelessly, but in a thoughtful way that somehow still bears weight.
In the dark, with blurry shadows accenting the bumps and hollows of our faces, we stop to consider this question seriously. There’s something comforting about opening up in the dark that can never be recreated when it’s light out. Maybe it’s that with the muted cool hues all blending together, there’s a sense of protection.
We are safe from scary things that go bump in the night, toddler’s fears of a monster that lurks beneath the bed, feasting on toes.
What we aren’t safe from, though, is the real world. Toes aren’t simply nibbled off, they’re chomped off, with brutality and complete disregard for the being to which said digits are attached to.
I fear the real world, with the very real monsters, and even realer humans. I fear not becoming anything, not doing anything with my life. I fear lost opportunities, chances I didn’t think to glance twice at.
Though on some days, I admit the fear of serial killers lurking behind my shower curtain is more immediate and pressing than this vague fear of the future.
How'd I do?
With the feedback from my last post, I decided to attempt a less wordy, and more abstract piece. I'm thinking of easing these sorts of things into my routine, though I'm on the fence on just how writing based I'd like them to be.
They'll likely be those types of "typical" blogger posts; style lists, routines, etc, but hoepfully a bit more interesting.
What did you think of this post (constructive criticism very much appreciated!)? What do you fear? Are posts like this better for the beginning of the week, or the end?
xx
Angelina
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