Fear Itself

Conversations with myself.


“What are you afraid of?”


“Not everything, surely. Little fluffy bunnies?”

“I would probably want to make sure they don’t belong to someone who objects to me handling them. I’m not very trustworthy.”


“Dust is made of dead people.”


“Did you know that they can aerosolize anthrax and if it gets on your skin you’re dead?”


“Apparently when they used to put lead in gasoline, it would be coughed out of car engines and fall to the ground so if you live in any city where, like, people drive, chances are the lead content….”

“You’ve made your point.”

“You know I’m right.”

“So…what do you do to avoid all these scary things?”



“There’s nothing one can do to avoid them, is there. They’re part of life, part of daily living, so I try not to do anything. I stay indoors, at home, in may apartment, where I’m safe.”

“Relatively safe.”

“Mostly safe.”

“From the dusty bunnies exhaling leaded dirt-air.”

“That, too.”

“What can make you go outside?”

“Exactly that — things I can’t do from the inside, though the internets and San Francisco living are alleviating a lot of those things, too. I can get groceries delivered. And burritos. And Amazon will now bring my toilet paper in an hour.”

“That’s a big deal, is it?”

“It is when you run out of toilet paper.”


“Then I resort to paper towels.”

“Uh huh.”

“Kind of rough on my tender hole.”

“I’d imagine so.”

“But the little nooks and crannies really gets in there and….”

“Thanks, I think I have it.”

“Are you sure? I can go into more graphic detail about wiping the detritus from the area around my anus using sheets of paper designed solely for that purpose.”

“No, really, I’m good.”

“Such a weird concept.”

“Toilet paper?”

“I mean, it serves a vital role in one’s life, to be sure. But think about how stupid your body is if it is designed to eject waste material out of a hole you can’t even see, and then if you don’t make sure you’ve cleaned your waster-hole it could become infected by the stuff you made yourself.”

“A better diet would probably alleviate some of that if you’re worried about it.”

“Scared would be a more fitting word.”

“Scared of your butt hole.”

“Butt holes in general, really.”

“Not actually the hole so much as….”

“What comes out of it.”


“Uh huh.”

“You’ve run out of things to write about, haven’t you?”

“Pretty much.”