My Greatest Fear

More unwittingly than wittingly, society loves the existence of love, loving and being loved. It possesses an immense appreciation for being appreciated, though it often never actually practices the practice of displaying this practical gesture. Hatred is hated by more than many and more often than not everyone likes being liked. In the midst of this dense rainforest of society’s ironical behaviours and paradoxical tendencies grows my own little thorny bush of a hidden absurd quality. I fear fear.

I used to think that I had a great fear of heights. I never did. It was only until I finally stood at the peak of the weathered but majestic Statue of Liberty that I realised that my true fear was not great heights but that I would be afraid and terrified of being at the top to the extent of eventually falling off. Similarly, mainly because it sounded like an amazing fear, I speculated that I had a phobia for failure. It was only when I hesitantly sat for the ‘greatly anticipated’ national exam that it dawned on me that my actual fear was that I would be afraid of failing to the extent of losing focus and ultimately failing.

I feel bumpy goose bumps when I watch a horror movie not because I find it scary in essence .No. But because I fear that I would be afraid or terrified if a scene that is scary enough is played. The idea of roaming around a dark haunted graveyard is not at all frightful. However the fact that fear, capable of petrifying an able-bodied adult, can be induced by the residence of the deceased is. Fear is frightening.

By Tinotenda Chijaka

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