
Hihi Internet Peoplez! It has been awhile. I haven't really felt up to writing. Spring Break has made me laz...ier.
Anyway, a friend of mine got me thinking about this. I am afraid of a lot of things. Bombs, birds, planes, motorcycles...the list goes own. But oh no no no, those are not the irrational ones. Let me tell you about those now. I will start with the most bizarre.
I am an 18 year old high school senior...and I am afraid of jello. No, your feeble eyes are not betraying you. You read that correctly. I fear jello. I used to be quite fond of it. I loved the fact that it moved. Then one day, when I was around seven or eight I had a profoundly stupid idea. In a moment of boredom and curiosity I struck the jello with my spoon. Quickly. Smack and retract. I think that is what did it. My smile melted away as I heard the sickening splat and watched as it jiggled violently and split, perfectly, in half. I think I may have screamed. I'm not really sure. I know I immediately threw it away and began to itch quite badly. For some reason I itch when things bother me in such a manor. I scratched my arms until they bled a little. It helped ease the panic. I have not eaten jello since then. I completely freak out when I see the stuff to this day. My friends get a kick out of wiggling their jello near me during lunch.
I am afraid of mud. I hate the texture. I hate the sight. I hate the fact that it is not transparent. I will not walk in mud. I will not walk near mud if I can help it.
I am afraid of shirts that look like the pic above (because I cannot seem to get links to work on this thing). I think I will avoid viewing my blog until after this post disappears into the realm of "older posts"... Amoeba print has frightened me since I was at least 3. I remember being very little and crying when my grandmother tried to hold me while wearing a shirt with amoeba print. It was purple and black. I clawed my mother as I attempted to burrow my way back into the womb...
I am afraid of elevators. Not all that unusually I know, but it causes me problems. It is the kind of fear that cripples it's host, devours the innards, and discards the body once it's done. I try to avoid the bastards whenever possible...but sometimes you cannot do that. You have to get on. And then the worry sets in. Will it get stuck? Will you be trapped forever? Will the line snap and send us plummeting down the shaft to our untimely demise? Is the morbidly obese woman next to us going to make us exceed the weight limit? I usually cry on elevators. Not hysterically. Just a little. Unless some friggin idiot is jumping around to amuse his/her friends. Then I am apt to lose my fucking mind.
So...those are some of my fears.
Anyway, a friend of mine got me thinking about this. I am afraid of a lot of things. Bombs, birds, planes, motorcycles...the list goes own. But oh no no no, those are not the irrational ones. Let me tell you about those now. I will start with the most bizarre.
I am an 18 year old high school senior...and I am afraid of jello. No, your feeble eyes are not betraying you. You read that correctly. I fear jello. I used to be quite fond of it. I loved the fact that it moved. Then one day, when I was around seven or eight I had a profoundly stupid idea. In a moment of boredom and curiosity I struck the jello with my spoon. Quickly. Smack and retract. I think that is what did it. My smile melted away as I heard the sickening splat and watched as it jiggled violently and split, perfectly, in half. I think I may have screamed. I'm not really sure. I know I immediately threw it away and began to itch quite badly. For some reason I itch when things bother me in such a manor. I scratched my arms until they bled a little. It helped ease the panic. I have not eaten jello since then. I completely freak out when I see the stuff to this day. My friends get a kick out of wiggling their jello near me during lunch.
I am afraid of mud. I hate the texture. I hate the sight. I hate the fact that it is not transparent. I will not walk in mud. I will not walk near mud if I can help it.
I am afraid of shirts that look like the pic above (because I cannot seem to get links to work on this thing). I think I will avoid viewing my blog until after this post disappears into the realm of "older posts"... Amoeba print has frightened me since I was at least 3. I remember being very little and crying when my grandmother tried to hold me while wearing a shirt with amoeba print. It was purple and black. I clawed my mother as I attempted to burrow my way back into the womb...
I am afraid of elevators. Not all that unusually I know, but it causes me problems. It is the kind of fear that cripples it's host, devours the innards, and discards the body once it's done. I try to avoid the bastards whenever possible...but sometimes you cannot do that. You have to get on. And then the worry sets in. Will it get stuck? Will you be trapped forever? Will the line snap and send us plummeting down the shaft to our untimely demise? Is the morbidly obese woman next to us going to make us exceed the weight limit? I usually cry on elevators. Not hysterically. Just a little. Unless some friggin idiot is jumping around to amuse his/her friends. Then I am apt to lose my fucking mind.
So...those are some of my fears.
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