- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Afternoons and evenings, some weekends.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Science Fiction, Post Apocalypse, Horror, Romance, Survival...
I don't have much in the way of a solid, corporeal fear. Drowning, falling to my death, and so on, were hammered out of my psyche at a young age by having other things to fear and revile in disgust a lot more than those. Even arachniphobia, which plagued me until my teens, I got over, by virtue of living with a couple spiders in my basement room, and realizing they left me alone if I left them alone. (Yes, I lived in basements typically. Sometimes with a window outside. It eventually became voluntary.)
The only real, gripping, sheer terror that paralyzes me is what I might do if I ever lost control. It's one thing if someone hurts or maims me, I can get over that, I've had bones broken and dreams shattered and I've nearly been shanked once or twice, damage to my person is no big deal, and life is just a convenience I've somehow clung to all these years. The fear that I might one day snap, that something will just go too far and I'll go on a violent, psychotic rampage and end up harming people, leave alone people I care for? I couldn't live with myself if I did that, and I fear the ugly survivalist monster within myself more than any other creature, real or imaginary. Because I can smash a spider, stay away from oceans, and not stand over railings. I can't stab whatever the hell kind of monster that might live in my head, just waiting for that moment when I'm too frail to stop it from awakening.
The only real, gripping, sheer terror that paralyzes me is what I might do if I ever lost control. It's one thing if someone hurts or maims me, I can get over that, I've had bones broken and dreams shattered and I've nearly been shanked once or twice, damage to my person is no big deal, and life is just a convenience I've somehow clung to all these years. The fear that I might one day snap, that something will just go too far and I'll go on a violent, psychotic rampage and end up harming people, leave alone people I care for? I couldn't live with myself if I did that, and I fear the ugly survivalist monster within myself more than any other creature, real or imaginary. Because I can smash a spider, stay away from oceans, and not stand over railings. I can't stab whatever the hell kind of monster that might live in my head, just waiting for that moment when I'm too frail to stop it from awakening.