Monday, 3 April 2017
It's not so much a deep fear as a strangling sensation that clamps at something in me at odd moments. It's almost trite in its universality, but when it does strike it envelopes me fully, icily. The creepiness, the tingling from the base of my neck to a place I can only describe as my soul, is enough to paralyse me for an eternally dreadful second. It's different to everyday fear, the fight or flight response, for it has only an obvious relationship to death. Death is of course part of it, but it's something more. More profound, infinitely more disturbing: the existential awareness that I will one day cease to exist.