In Fear

I wonder if there will ever be an end to feeling fear. Each day, who isn’t reminded of impermanence and mortality? Are there people who get to look at life without feeling a bit queasy on the stomach and kind of weak in the knees knowing just how numbered and definite our breaths are? We all know that death looms upon us, we just don’t know when, how and where. Before then, would we have accomplished what we were born for? Would we have lived life to the full when there has always been fear in our hearts and heads? I can’t seem to put away these thoughts. They tend to hound me in the morning, within the day, before I sleep, whenever I breathe. They creep in when I see happy people too. Positive thinking and using “Carpe Diem” as a mantra just don’t cut it for me. I guess the fact that everything ends got deeply carved in my psyche that I see ghosts where there aren’t or shouldn’t be. There will always be fear, huh? The real question lies on what a person does in and despite its presence. What now then?

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