Sunday, December 7, 2008


I am afraid of people hiding in my backyard. I can’t look through the backyard-facing windows of my ground-floor apartment at night for fear I will see a face staring in at me, hideously up-lit from my lights.
I am afraid that I will hear a voice from outside the window next to my bed talking to me at night while I am trying to fall asleep.
I can spend hours freaking out about the nothingness of death – the idea that I won’t exist scares the hell out of me.
I can’t leave parts of my body out of the covers at night for fear that something will touch the exposed skin – for some reason, they won’t touch me if I’m covered.
I’m afraid of leaving doors in my bedroom open at night for fear I’ll see a silhouette in the doorway.
I’m afraid of things eating me from the feet up in the ocean.

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