Confession – Day 75 – Religion

The words in brackets explain what the phobia is of (eg. theophobic- fear of religion)

 

I’m having Theophobic (religion) thoughts.  

I can’t stop thinking about the power religion wields.

I see it breed homophobia,

Promote gynophobia (women),

Grow Hedonophobia (pleasure),

Nurture Epistemophobia (knowledge),

And generate Cenophobia (new things).

Perhaps it is born from Eleutherophobia (freedom);

Our need to have rules and guidance.

Maybe I need to rid myself of Optophobia (opening one’s eyes)

And take a look at the positive side.

Weapon – Day 74 – Matt Hsu

Today I got ‘I’m scared that I’m not scared anymore’ from Matt. Here’s what I came up with:

I think they got it into our food with a covert operation. It’s the only explanation I have. One day we ate dinner and suddenly the entire camp was relaxed. The other camps thought we’d been drinking but after a few days they were the same. We have no adrenaline anymore. I used to be frightened of shooting. I didn’t sleep. I felt so anxious that I only ate when I was so starved I couldn’t bare it any longer.

Now, I sleep through raids, I eat while I fight and I shoot without looking. But we are dying by the hundreds, taking unimaginable risks at every opportunity. I’m scared that I’m not afraid anymore. So I’ve come up with a plan. Every soldier that has a picture of family, is to tie it to their wrist. It reminds us that someone else is scared we won’t come home. It sounds sad, but I think the fear is going to help us survive this war.

Fear – Day 73 – Election

I had incredible writers block today but finally extracted this. I then slipped it in with my ballot paper today whilst voting in the by-election.

The people were divided. They were taught to fear each other. They got their information from leaders who feared honesty and reporters who feared low ratings. Strangers from across the water were locked up, new sources of energy were ignored, and people who loved regardless of gender were shunned. They were offered a chance to change things. But familiarity always won and so things stayed the same.  

Dear 17 yr old Freya – Day 72 – Xavier/Your Friends House

I was challenged on facebook last night to write a letter to my 5-year-ago-self by Xavier Rousset. 

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I’m no Frank Ocean but I’ve given it a go. This is probably the scariest ‘Fears February’ challenge I’ve got so far.

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17 year old Freya,

You’re 22 now and you’ve finally realised that the faded, torn Ludo shirt you’ve had since year 9 is unacceptable to wear in public and bought yourself a new Labyrinth t-shirt. But the changes don’t stop there. You call yourself a ‘writer’ now, and sometimes people even believe you and give you money for it.

I read your diary (sorry). You don’t seem to have much self esteem and you have this idea that you are doomed to be lonely. Well I can tell you that you’ve picked up a bit of esteem since then, school turns out to be a hot box where all sorts of nasty worries and hang ups thrive. You’re also not lonely so far, though you’ve had your heart broken and repaired once already.

Despite all these changes some things are always the same. You still worship British comedy. You still have all the good friends you know now, plus a few extras you’ve picked up along the way. And, you’re still scared of spiders, bad marks, leaving formal education, and people disliking you.

Love

Freya

P.S. Don’t run up the stairs at your formal. You will stand on your dress, rip it and flash all your teachers.

Home – Day 71 – Alex’s found photos

Another photo. Another story. And some more fear. Image

 

Sarah,

I cleaned out dad’s house today. It was eerie being back. Vera still lives next door. She’s not as creepy as I remember her being. She gave me this photo of the place from when we were kids ‘to remember happier times’. It still looks the same. Do you remember we used to call it ‘the asylum’?

x James

Neil – Day 70 – Alex’s found photos

Alex, a friend I made at the National Young Writers Fest last year, posted me an envelope full of photos she found in a book shop the other day to use as prompts. This is the first photo and the first story:

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Neil holds his fear in his hand. The tiny picture makes his insides feel empty; a clash of anxiety and nostalgia. He remembers climbing onto the fence and smiling at the camera. He tries recalling the carefree attitude he had at the time, but the moment is now so far away. It had been the last time his family was together, after that he was forced to grow up fast. He feels cheated, but then he has an idea. He walks out of the nursing home and climbs the patio banister.

“What are you doing up there?” a nurse asks him.

“I thought it might be fun,” Neil answers.

 He smiles, and it’s the same smile he remembers donning all those years ago.