Fears bubbling up in my gut
Large scale -
I will die alone
I will die before doing anything worthwhile
I will die before being loved, properly [quite different from fear # 1. One can be loved muchly for a period of time that does not coincide with one's pre-death days.]
My mother’s worst nightmare will come true and I will turn into my estranged aunt [she went to study in the US, didn’t want to get married till she was 40 and quite desperate, married a horrible horrible man, has been going through separation and reconciliation ever since, fought with my folks and tried to sue my dad over a property dispute to boot, long ugly story – apparently I even walk like her.] [I actually love the woman. She was really good to me when she was around.] [And I’m beginning to think I can identify with most of her issues now.]
Smaller scale –
One day I’ll wake up and think ‘What the fuck am I doing in London?’ and I won’t have any answers.
I’ll spend so much time talking to myself, even when i'm with people, that eventually I’ll forget how to talk to real people.
I will die alone
I will die before doing anything worthwhile
I will die before being loved, properly [quite different from fear # 1. One can be loved muchly for a period of time that does not coincide with one's pre-death days.]
My mother’s worst nightmare will come true and I will turn into my estranged aunt [she went to study in the US, didn’t want to get married till she was 40 and quite desperate, married a horrible horrible man, has been going through separation and reconciliation ever since, fought with my folks and tried to sue my dad over a property dispute to boot, long ugly story – apparently I even walk like her.] [I actually love the woman. She was really good to me when she was around.] [And I’m beginning to think I can identify with most of her issues now.]
Smaller scale –
One day I’ll wake up and think ‘What the fuck am I doing in London?’ and I won’t have any answers.
I’ll spend so much time talking to myself, even when i'm with people, that eventually I’ll forget how to talk to real people.
corollarily (?), only I will ever understand my (amazingly funny) ganda fattas.
I’ll convince myself that any positive thoughts are just determined cheerfulness, essentially hollow and very pathetic.
I’ll lose myself in self-analysis and forget to learn anything about anyone other than myself. And what I learn about myself will also be largely speculative.
And there’s a small unmentionable fear as well.
Not a pleasant Sunday.
I’ll convince myself that any positive thoughts are just determined cheerfulness, essentially hollow and very pathetic.
I’ll lose myself in self-analysis and forget to learn anything about anyone other than myself. And what I learn about myself will also be largely speculative.
And there’s a small unmentionable fear as well.
Not a pleasant Sunday.
Comments
So tell.