Things that I am Afraid of

Receiving a text right when I am deleting texts from my phone. Does this actually delete the most recently received text? I don't know, because this has never actually happened to me.

Riding around in my car with windows down and music blasting, only to look out and see somebody I know observing me. It's not that I don't want to be seen blasting music, but rather that those moments are my private chill time.

Accidentally eating Thai shrimp flavored ramen. I absolutely hate this flavor, but somehow I've managed to accidentally cook a pot of this stuff on more than one occasion, and been left without an alternative meal.

Cooking bad food. Perhaps my least favorite interaction with my friends is to have them tell me that my food is delicious when I know it is not. This pains me, both because I have failed to cook yummy food for them, and because my friends are not at a level of openness where derision of my poor performance is acceptable.

Finding ticks on myself. I once was scratching my head, and thought that I had found a particularly large and stubborn bit of dandruff or scab, and spent five minutes prying it loose only to look down at my hand and find a huge squirming wood tick.

Forgetting to do something extremely important, like putting in a deposit that allows me to attend school, or forgetting the test date of my MCAT (which is absurd; it is inconceivable to me that anyone would forget such a thing).

Greasy oily hair.

Zombies. They were for many years the sole dreaded presence in every one of my nightmares. The movie 28 Days Later scarred my young mind to an extent that leaves me still judging the best escape routes and makeshift weapons present in every room I enter.

Migraines.

Worms, slugs, centipedes, and most of all, millipedes. I'm more repulsed by these critters than afraid of them, though.

Waking up thinking that I am the person represented by my memories, but really, I am just a clone that has had these memories placed into me, and I only think I am waking from a night's rest while in reality, I have replaced some person, and it is my first day alive.

Certain scary people.

Public speaking. Actually, I'm not afraid of public speaking, but I do have an awful amount of stage-fright that is totally unrelated to how nervous I feel. My legs start to shake by themselves, and my right eye and cheek begin to twitch.

Having friends use my computer and be hindered by all of my specific modifications and so on. Sometimes, I install things and change settings that I don't even understand, and I become the person hindered.

Losing my mp3 player. This has happened many times, but each time I typically find it about a week later in my other pants pocket (or in Matti's couch after a month). The same deal goes with my watch, but to a much lesser extent.

Sitting in the car with my dad alone. Awkward man conversations. Yea.

Looking bad in front of the girl that I like. This includes saying dumb things, improperly worn clothing, bad table manners, embarrassing noises, ignorance to pop culture, hair needs fixing, etc. I usually don't care what others think of me by my appearance and behavior, but there is just no preventing this.

Being in a place where I do not understand the language, or being surrounded by people who will not speak in a method that I understand. Perhaps this is closer to a peeve than a fear, but only because it has been some time since I ventured to a foreign country. I really do not have the stoutness of heart to trek out on my own in a land where no signs are readable. I also do not have the stoutness of heart to bear being in a conversation among people I care about that is held in a language I do not know.

Forgetting a person's name. With a memory as bad as mine, this happens on a regular basis, so I've learned to just tell the person that I don't remember. This becomes more difficult when the forgotten item is a bit closer to home, like a friend's hometown, number of siblings, recent activities. At worst, this includes my mother's birthday, and my brother's age/grade.

Not having anything to say in a one-on-one conversation. Actually, this is a lie; I love silences, but only if the other person is comfortable with silence. There are some people who are clearly wracking their brains during each pause to come up with a better restart than "The weather is really nice today!". Sometimes this is me.

Finding out that I really don't have what it takes to do what I've been trying to do for a very long time. Well, I haven't experienced this, but I'm pretty sure that I don't need to be there in order to understand this plight.

I'm afraid of not understanding when I am afraid. My confidence is so great that often I forget that I am really not as able as I feel, and in these situations I am suddenly met with fear when the circumstances do not unfold as I desire.

Being asked to do things that I myself am not capable of doing. No, this does not mean reaching for items on the top shelf. These are the problem sets that I spend weeks on, the internships I apply to in droves, the understanding of concepts that lie in theoretical math. Understanding a woman's heart. Loving unconditionally. Following God.

I am afraid of laughter that never had the chance to spring forth. I am afraid of life lessons that I have skipped, and detours that were not taken. I am afraid the death of the wife that I do not yet have, and the children that I have not yet received. I am afraid of my own body, which will in time betray my will and destroy itself. I am afraid of a future that has not been seen, and a past that will not be remembered. I am afraid of people I do not know, and of people I do know. I am afraid of anthills and skyscrapers, whispered words and unseen signs. Most of all, I am afraid of you, and I am afraid of me. Luckily, I also have hope in all of these things.

Thinking Questions 1

You've probably heard me express my opinion that we all need to think and be more active mentally instead of doing things by rote.

Here's a question to think about: Would it feel colder to be bare-skinned in outer-space, or at the bottom of the ocean? Let's ignore the repercussions of extremes in pressures for the sake of this example.

If this seems interesting, more questions will follow.

EDIT

Answer is in comments. I think that I will try to use a question more suitable for general audiences if I were to again pose such a question.

I Love You

I love you. We met at a barbecue or perhaps a wedding. We hit it off because your jokes were punctual or because my suit was clean pressed. After trading numbers, we parted only to unpart. At next our next meeting, I learned that your thoughts ran deep, and you saw that my lips listened. We grew close, and our hearts tiptoed together cautiously, as though we might wake up from the dream. We attended another wedding, but now your hand was in mine, and my ring on yours. From there we flew and we soared, and we trudged and we struggled. With you I have grown deeply, and you have aged well. Even now we are yet two cogs that do not fit, yet the machine runs on borrowed time. We have years to come, and then many more years thereafter. I love you.

I love you. As far back as I can remember, your presence hangs over my memories, intangible yet inevitable. You set me up on play-dates with friends and with homework, and always had more to say. I never had more to listen. You perhaps grew me, and I perhaps aged you, at times for worse for wear. Your advice (and commands) fed me as much as your cooking (thanks), and your roof comforted me as much as your embrace (thanks again). When I was 14 or 15 (or 12) I grew tired of you, and you grew tired in general. Soon enough, you fed me only advice, for I fed myself. I owe you nothing, but I owe you so much. I can repay you so much, but I can repay you nothing. When I visit, I realize that so much has changed, but nothing has changed. You have been for me, and that has been enough. I love you.

I love you. We were thrown together by chance, perhaps to struggle, perhaps to play, but regardless we started out by sharing in the little things. We exploded aliens together or sailed to the moon in a cardboard box. Barbie met Ken, or Optimus met Megatron. Regardless, time passed, and we passed footballs and swapped gossip, attended each others' birthday parties though we were too old for birthday parties. I moved out here or you moved out there, but I still remember when that wasn't the case. Old times come easily again whenever we meet, and it's never long until that happens. You will toast at my wedding, and I will catch your bouquet. Distance and age do not separate us. I love you.

I love you. We were introduced, but your name, sadly, I don't remember. Your face blends with the previous guy, or the next woman, and I just can't seem to recall. You feel the same way, but we laugh it off since laughing is a simpler action to repeat on every such occasion. I would love to know you better, but there just isn't the time, because my dog must be walked, and your lawn must be mowed. Between "Hello" and "Goodbye" are all the same questions to which we answer "Great!" by rote. One day I will remember your name, and you will know my face, and we will be friends, but there's just so much time between then and now. I wish you the best, and you wish me the best. I love you.

I love you. We began by butting heads. You are a coworker, a group member for class, a waiter, a bus driver, a landlord, a police officer, a mailman, a mother-in-law. You have seen my face, for better or for worse, or just for worse, and remember it. I asked for decaf, you overcharged me, I took your seat, your front bumper kissed my back bumper. Your face, I remember it too, twisted with unhappiness at best and with hatred at worst. I never meant for things to be this way, and you never wanted to know who I was at all, but now we are neither here nor there. Soon enough, I will apologize, and soon enough you will admit you were wrong, but not before we butt heads again. You make me struggle on a level that I don't even understand or know, but when I do, that struggle will already have ended. I love you.

I love you. We have never met, but I have heard of you. I have seen you in a photograph with my friend, or perhaps in one taken by my friend. I have seen you in a magazine, or in a photo gallery. You are either like me or unlike me, but definitely more like me than unlike me. You are young and smiling, freckles on a face yet to grow weathered and troubled. You are old and smiling, years lived before I knew even my first. You are staggering with a heavy burden, or skipping to an unheard beat. You could be alone, or you could be lonely. Your clothes are worn hand-me-downs or cashmere and furs. Your expression is ingenuous or calloused, yet still I see two eyes and ears, a nose and mouth. Your circumstances I could never know, nor will I ever, yet I do know. I wish to shoulder your burdens and share in your stories. Your life unknown calls out to me, and I hope that we will eventually meet. I love you.

I love you. We have never met, but I have heard of you. You are to me the number "1", because casualties are measured in quantities. Your life was counted among many that I will not meet here. You lived and grew in a land I have not visited, among a people I have not met, and in a culture I do not know. You perished in an earthquake, or fell under gunfire. You were lost at sea or lost on land, washed away or blown away. You fought for me, and you fought against me, but I do not even know your name. You died and with you died dreams and hopes, memories and thoughts, a lifetime of experiences. Your family grieves for you even now, for you were to them a loving husband, a caring wife, a beloved son, a treasured daughter. I can see only a nameless statistic, but I know that you were a person. I love you.

I love you. You sought me out when I was confused, hurt, distrusting, prideful, wretched, or just unaware. You showed me your heart so that I could see my own. You showed me your heart that healed the sick, comforted the anxious, fed the hungered, rebuked the proud, and forgave the repentant. You showed me your heart that would stop even while marching on the road to death just to attend to a blind beggar. You showed me your heart that looked past the the broken exteriors of prostitutes, criminals and cripples and displayed not distaste, pity, or dismissal, but compassion, love, and recognition of the presence of a human soul. Though you were God himself, you allowed yourself to be nailed hand and foot to the death, for our sake, for my sake. You suffered undeservedly so that we would not suffer deservedly. And as you loved us, I love you.

Occasionally we stop and think
while trees grow taller
and then light does not reach our eyes.

Smoking -> Caffeine -> Vegetarianism

100 years ago, the general public had no qualms against smoking. Olden day ads for smoking touted the health benefits of smoking.

Though I definitely don't feel that caffeine will receive the same stark scientific and medical revelations as tobacco smoking did, I am saying that there is definitely a reason for worry as to the effects of long-term usage of caffeine. Not to say that this is not going on already; nine of 24 sections in the Wikipedia article on caffeine are devoted to its negative side-effects. Caffeine is the world's most popular psychoactive drug. It is legal and unregulated in nearly every form and location.

But then again, in the Wikipedia article on vegetarianism, one of the ten main sections is entitled "5: Additional reasons for a vegetarian diet". Also, the only section which does not overtly praise vegetarianism for any reason is the first one which defines terminology and makes up roughly 1/8 of the entire article. This could either speak for the nature of Wikipedia, or for the nature of those who wrote the article.