Minibars

Fear.

Tiring.
Difficult.
Paralyzing.

There is something rather amusing about it though.
The thought of people stuck in the same boat.
Her name is "Fearful Jane",
(Silly name, but who expects a Boat of Fear to have a logical title?)

All the passengers with the same basic fears.
Scared of rejection.
A lack of trust.
Petrified of committment.
Worried of expectations.

The irony is simple however.
We create our own fears.
Feed them.
Then remain estranged to the only thing
that may truly make us happy.

We worry about the risks.
Stay lonely.
Afraid.
Bored.
And damn determined,
not to let anyone tear down our walls.

These tired red walls we build.
Over the long years.
Each brick a reminder of some loss.
Some deception.
Some dormant fear.

(I wish we could at least have sexual relationships with these walls,

but most of us aren't quite attracted to objects...

That woman who had a relationship with the Berlin Wall seems pretty lucky right now.)

It reminds me of the sad fate of rabbits.
Rabbits are easily frightened.
Illogical in their panick.
If a rabbit is crossing a street,
and a car is coming towards it,
more often than not,
the rabbit will start running in front of the car.
This forces the car to follow it,
Increasing the risk of a rather disgusting death.

That's human nature in a nutshell.
Rather than being logical,
risking a little bit,
and possibly experiencing something decent for a change,
we make it a point to be run over and crushed brutally
by our very own, personalized, yet surprisingly unoriginal
fears.

So the question is simple,
shall we all continue this way?
Or risk a little bit?
Personally,
regardless of my pained and determined decision,
I feel myself weakening.
I find myself considering working upwards,
rather than remaining in this Playgroud of Fears.

For those of you planning to remain in this Boat of Fear,
there's something you should ask now, before it's too late:
Does "Fearful Jane" at least have a minibar?