I have always been a scared person. I am afraid of cars so I will never get a driving license. I’m afraid of buses and trains to so when I’m going somewhere I either bike or take one of the countless ferries we have in Sweden. Of some reason I’m not afraid of boats, even though I was once caught in a hurricane in the ocean outside Athens, Greece.
I am afraid of all dogs bigger than a cocker spaniel. It doesn’t matter if they look at me sweetly, ignore me or bark at me. I judge them equally anyway. When I was 14 years old I ran of to Thailand with one of my friends. We lived in a locals outhouse and one morning there was a tiger in their garden. I wasn’t afraid then. Or any other morning during the time we stayed there.
I am afraid of death but only, it seems, when it is not actually present. when I’m in a situation where I actually have reason to fear my life I get all sorts of feelings, but not fear. When there’s a tiger 2 metres away from you it’s sort of practical to feel fear. It’s not practical when you’re lying in you’re bed and start thinking about heart attacks. It’s only in moments like the second I get panic attacks, and it is starting to become a serious problem. I can’t sleep any more. I can’t live like a normal human being. Because there are all sort of ridiculous things I have to avoid to not freak out.
The fall is here, the world is dying. I always get really depressed during the fall but this time I’m going to use this season to come to terms with death. Because no matter what I do or feel about it I will die in the end. Everyone and everything do.