is almost unparalleled. I roger the statement that fear is one of the few genuine emotions we portray. Fear is mighty. It can bend the ass of the most laziest person to do the most laborious task in no panic. I always wanted to put down a few words about this, but there hasn't been a butt-kicking incident to trigger me to jot down. It arrived this morning. Like many a times did I, this time too, I owe the credit to her.
There exist many of them. Fear cos of a stalker. Fear of tomorrow. Cos of intimidating people. What is it to be scared? To be non-concretely liable to a thing or a person? Turning out to be submissive reluctantly, clenching fists in despair and fury, both of them placed on your butt to conceal from display.
Fear. Is Priceless. Invaluable. It should not be wasted by giving in ourselves to unnecessary, undeserving bastards fearing trivial losses. There is a fear that I might not be able to fulfil my self vowed promise which demands me to write daily, some crap. That's something sensible, ain't it? Writers evolve out of the crap they write. No matter what happens, the fear of failing to keep up my promise actually accomplishes something for me at the end of the day, which is of course good.
But to hide in a foxhole scared of somebody? Absolutely ridiculous. I want her to read this piece, which she's never going to (I know). But I hope at least my effort to change a bad habit in her so that she can start living freely, fearlessly should pay off.
God bless her.
There exist many of them. Fear cos of a stalker. Fear of tomorrow. Cos of intimidating people. What is it to be scared? To be non-concretely liable to a thing or a person? Turning out to be submissive reluctantly, clenching fists in despair and fury, both of them placed on your butt to conceal from display.
Fear. Is Priceless. Invaluable. It should not be wasted by giving in ourselves to unnecessary, undeserving bastards fearing trivial losses. There is a fear that I might not be able to fulfil my self vowed promise which demands me to write daily, some crap. That's something sensible, ain't it? Writers evolve out of the crap they write. No matter what happens, the fear of failing to keep up my promise actually accomplishes something for me at the end of the day, which is of course good.
But to hide in a foxhole scared of somebody? Absolutely ridiculous. I want her to read this piece, which she's never going to (I know). But I hope at least my effort to change a bad habit in her so that she can start living freely, fearlessly should pay off.
God bless her.
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