It’s the middle of the night or just about and I’m awake and haven’t written anything in days and no one really gives a shit so here’s a list of things I’m afraid of because why not. I’m afraid I’ll be at work when the mega quake hits and I’ll either die in the initial building collapse or I’ll be trapped in the rubble for days and smother to death. I’m afraid I’ll die of carbon monoxide poisoning. I’m afraid the house will catch fire when I’m not home and all the animals will die. I’m afraid my cat’s spirit won’t visit me because he knows i made the choice to put him to sleep. I’m afraid everything i believe is a lie I’ve carefully crafted to make myself feel special and not crazy. I’m afraid I’m a shitty daughter. I’m afraid I’m a shitty friend. I’m afraid I’m a shitty lover and my girlfriend will one day leave because I’m asexual and have no libido and she’ll realize sooner or later that i can’t give her what she needs and deserves. I’m afraid she’ll die before me. I’m afraid my boss keeps delaying my promotion because she thinks I’m too incapable to do anything harder. I’m afraid my performance issues aren’t caused by anything physical or mental and I’m just bad at my job. I’m afraid I’m of painfully average intelligence and only the sub par public school system convinced people otherwise. I’m afraid my carpal tunnel will keep getting worse until i can’t type or write. I’m afraid I’m going to be alive for the end of the world. I’m afraid there’s nothing i can do to delay that fact. I’m afraid humanity is going to destroy every living thing on this planet. I’m afraid I’ll be alive for world war 3. I’m afraid donald trump will be president. I’m afraid someone i know will read this and want to have a Conversation about it. I’m afraid there’s nothing after death. I’m afraid that i already believe that and just can’t admit it to myself. I’m afraid I’m bad for my girlfriend and she doesn’t realize it. I’m afraid my life will always be compartmentalized. I’m afraid I’ve already written everything of value and will never create anything good again. I’m afraid I’ll eventually accept that fact and so many others and let apathy replace any drive or hope i have left. I’m afraid that nothing ever change and I’ll die in the same shitty world i was born into and the same shitty world i live in now. and now my fingers are going cold and tingly because my body is a piece of junk so i guess it’s time to go to sleep so i can wake up and pretend this counts as writing it really really doesn’t.