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I�ve seen the poster with its inspirational photograph of four men in a dinghy going down the rapids, �courage is not absence of fear� etc, and I�ve been told a thousand times that there is nothing to actually be afraid of, but still in my heart of hearts lurks a primal essence that says all is not well for me � fear itself. I tease and titillate this most exhilarating of experiences by hunching down in a cinema seat to see evils and monsters do battle with each other in the safe context of 2D film, and am delighted when the THX sound system rumbles my base instinct in a subsonic base shudder. I throw a punch at the air whilst I zoom the rollercoaster, challenging my fear of falling (or is it fear of flying?). I secretly enjoy patrolling the house with my wooden bokken, hoping to find that nasty lurking intruder whom I can bash to a satisfying unconciousness, pricking myself with horrible thoughts of rape and pillage all the while knowing I am safe safe safe.

In truth my fear is greater than any mini-psycho drama I can create for myself, and it lies deep and controlled in my center. I toy with it but do not want it to expose itself too much. I play with the idea of what it is to fear but have blocked from my mind any incidents that pulled my fear out into the open and peeled me to reveal the pinkness of my vulnerability. I have nightmarish flashes from the realms of sleep of moments where I thought all was going to end, and I wake with the knowledge that I feared many things in my life. And yet this intangible beast, this phantom of emotion, slides away giggling around the corner when the brain throws logic and analysis at it. Perhaps that�s why I find fear so fascinating � not real but so profoundly affecting, ephemeral control system that makes me superstitious and looking over my shoulder.

And my worst fear? I do not fear death, for death shall have no dominion in my opinionated human mind.

Oh it scares me to even say the word, shows what a fool and a sucker I am, rips me open to my gizzards and lays bare my truest, baddest, saddest being.

Loneliness.