Black Cat Killed the Curiosity

I was never scared of clowns. I loved them.

I don't believe in ghosts or monsters. I believe in the power of imagination.

I don't have a fear of heights. I want to go skydiving.

I think sharp shoots of pain are fun. You name it: needles, piercings, waxing and stitches. I love them.

I walk under ladders and in between double poled road signs, I think black cats are equal to white cats, and to me Friday the 13th is good as any other day.

For these, people might call me brave (maybe even so far as stupid). But I have a confession: I fear people. I fear my family. I fear my friends. And I probably fear you.

Why? Because it's mortal, tangible, visible creatures like you that have the most ability to hurt me, and each other.

I fear betrayal, only people like you can do that to me. I fear being jealous of other people; because I indicate to myself that I am not being grateful for what I do have. I fear loss: of trust and of respect.

You can have as many fears as you want. But I've learnt that after seeing a black cat and winding up abducted by aliens… after walking under a ladder to find a zombie waiting for you on the other side… after encountering a giant moth and having a sook…

Make sure you have people, or maybe just one person who's sure to either

(a) save you, or

(b) comfort you after you've saved yourself

They're better than band aids, Panadols and cough syrup put together.

P.S. Yes, I am dreadfully scared of moths!