A Pattern Tub

There is so much to fear. Just leaving the house seems a ridiculous risk. Unlocking your front door makes no sense at all.

The roads are filled with humans prone to idiocy and weakness behind massive metal husks moving at high and incongruous speed. I cannot in any way trust any human being behind any car, and whilst driving I have the sensation that I am doing something dumb and teenage.

Once I am in my car, I also fear stopping. I cautiously approach Stop signs and red lights, knowing through newspaper what cruelty and maiming could befall me at any moment. Somebody could run up to my car and shoot me in the head. I could survive with brain damage. People I meet would pity and loathe me and call me lucky.

Sometimes lying awake at night I think of how a man or men could enter my house. Rape my love and make me watch. Then I think no that’s paranoid. Then I remember this happens all the time.

I am so scared every day. There are all these people around me who I cannot understand. I cannot help them either, and nothing will come of any attempt. There are too many of them, too few of us, and they don’t want help, they want the power promised to them by their leaders and visionaries and egos and TVs.

So I stay locked away in fear.