Statistics of Fear

I was walking alone at night through the city this evening, and I had my headphones on and my music turned up so loud I couldn’t hear anything else.

It was beautiful, and exactly what I wanted to be doing.

Maybe it’s being young and reckless, but I am so tired of running into fear at every corner.

I’m moving to a new country, and people don’t say “How wonderful!” they say “Don’t drink the water. Not even to brush your teeth.”

They don’t say “Take lots of pictures!” they say “Stay on the roads. There are still land mines there.”


I’m starting to get this feeling that maybe I’d rather be a statistic than in fear.

Because, yeah. Maybe something will happen. And there are infinite lists of “things to do to prevent X from happening”.

but when it comes down to it, most of those lists boil down to “stay the fuck at home and lock the doors and board the windows.”


Yeah, maybe it’s stupid, but I think that I’d rather be stupid and willing to walk down a street then safely tucked away in a little white room somewhere.


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