As usual, I have been thinking about who I am.
I was just sitting up on the roof, looking at London, having a smoke. I have had a few drinks but not too much. And, as usual, I have been thinking about who I am.
There is something odd about the air and the sky tonight – there always is on Easter Sunday, I have noticed it every year. The sky is pink and the sun is setting. I can hear birds singing, and the occasional sounds of children playing. Sometimes the “almost-silence” is interrupted by the trains and the traffic and my lungs choking on my tears. I don’t know if the evening is strange because it is the day of the Lord, or because we invented this day to be a special day, or because of the time of year – it may simply be an early April evening in the course of Great British summertime. I don’t know. But it is strange.
I was thinking about who I am, as usual.
I thought, “Sometimes I am scared.”
This is a lie. I am always scared. Not in a “panicky-anxiety-attack” sort of way, nor an “I’m-intimidated-by-everything-and-everyone” kind of way. No. I am not scared of anyone. I am, however, scared.
I am scared of my self, myself, my own strength, my weaknesses. I am scared of my self. I am scared of my brain, of the way it thinks so much. I am scared of my heart, of the way it feels so much.
I am scared of being alive. I am scared of dying. I am scared of myself. Every minute that I am alive, I am terrified. I am scared of being alive. And I am scared of dying. Every minute, of every day, I am scared, so scared, for I am alive.
This is perhaps the ultimate human quandary – I am too scared of living, yet too scared of dying. I want neither. I want nonexistence. I would like to cease to exist; not to die, but simply not to live. I didn’t ask for this – but now I ask for peace.
I think it’s scarier if you don’t try to explain all the different ways in which you think you’re scared.
Those two paragraphs fail to get to the heart of it. The last one sums it up – you’re afraid of that moment the alarm clock goes off and you have to do something.
I’m afraid of both too. Sometimes one more than the other. It depends on the day/night.