happy sunny wintertime

Fear is eating me, piece by piece. I don't know what was there before the era of fear began; whether there was anything at all. Fear is my motivation and restriction, I speak the language of anxiety and perceive things in categories of potential threat and non-threat. I have fear on my face and in my blood. It is my name. Everything inside me has rotten with fear, there's only a thin layer coating me. If you prick it, I'll explode.