A List Of Things I'm Afraid Of

Here is a list of things I am afraid of.


I’m afraid of bugs where there should not be bugs.

I’m afraid of people in animal costumes.

I’m afraid of the words “I love you” being a lie.

I’m afraid of breaking household appliances

and farting in public.

I’m afraid of fake friends

and confrontation.

I’m afraid of fingernail clippings

and touching clumps of other people’s hair.

I’m afraid of somehow getting a disease from eating food off the floor.

I’m afraid of being angry and sad forever

and the phrase “I’m not angry, just disappointed.”

I’m afraid of a bouncy ball hitting me in the eye.

I’m afraid of snakes crawling out of the toilet.

I’m afraid of yet again mispronouncing “peculiar.”

I’m afraid of not doing anything significant with my life

and eating meat with bones in it.

I am afraid of Donald Trump’s fan base.

I’m afraid of government conspiracies.

I’m afraid of being abducted by aliens and not having any fun with them.

I’m afraid of the encroaching darkness during panic attacks

and other people’s feet in my face.

I’m afraid of people who don’t listen to the word “no”

Men, especially older ones, especially when I am alone.

I’m afraid of the inevitability of death

and the uncertainty as to the meaning of anything.

I’m afraid of the existence of God,

and the nonexistence of God.

I’m afraid of dolls.

I’m afraid of having something in my teeth and no one telling me.

I’m afraid of being the friend that smells bad a lot that no one wants to tell.

I’m afraid of days where I hate my body.

I’m afraid of being wrong,

and of being right.

I’m afraid of the brief moment of anger that strangers have when you take too long in line.

I’m afraid of children with runny noses

and not knowing what to do when someone’s hurt.

I’m afraid of existence,

and also nonexistence.

I’m afraid of losing feeling, specifically in my hands, but also emotionally.

I’m afraid of an apocalypse, but not because the world’s ending, but because I’d have no medication and be forced to stew in the horrors of my own mind,

but also zombies.

I’m afraid of public shooters

and our education system.

I’m afraid of eating meat that’s not fully cooked.

I’m afraid of the reality that every person lives for themselves

and never being in love again.

I’m afraid of forgetting.

I’m afraid of most forms of torture.

Make that all forms torture.

I’m afraid of text messages that could be nice or mean depending upon the way it is said.

I’m afraid of wanting to hurt myself

and looking in mirrors at night.

I’m afraid of angry ghosts.

I’m afraid of schizophrenia

and needles.

But most of all, I’m afraid of myself.


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