Fear and Loathing, Not In Las Vegas

The daily prompt talks about fear, and knows what mine is.

Spiders. Any eight-legged creature makes itself known, and I’m not above calling for my dad, often referred to as the ‘Arachnid Exterminator’. I loathe them. I’ve never stopped to pinpoint why, or how, but it’s comforting that my fear is a generic one. My fears aren’t something I want to be unique – I can easily explain it away as just one of those things. I even fear the tiny money spider, though I’ve seen more than one and they’ve never come bearing money, so that might be why – I have bills to pay sometimes.

Vegetable peelers also top the list. I know this probably contradicts my above statement of being unique, but I just can’t use them. They make me paranoid, for reasons I won’t discuss. Any time it looks like I might have to use one I busy myself elsewhere and hope one day they’ll invent an electric version where I won’t need to do a thing. Has that been done already?

I think that’s about it, on the fear front. Fearing too much seems like a way to reduce the interest in life.


11 thoughts on “Fear and Loathing, Not In Las Vegas”

  1. Yeah. Spiders. I don’t even want to think about them.
    Funny, really! Why so many people are afraid of spiders. Even phobias.
    Also here where we don’t have any poisonous spiders. Not normally, that is.


    1. No clue. I suppose they’re an easy thing to be afraid of. They’re certainly creepy enough, poison or no.

      I think part of the reason I’m afraid of them is that I don’t know what breeds are here where I live. The enemy you don’t know and all that.


      1. They really ARE creepy creatures! You can’t hear them coming!!! Hear Nothing!
        I don’t like insects at all. No matter of what kind. Something small, mostly black, clutching to the roof just above your bed, above your head…
        Suddenly when you’ve fallen asleep it drops itself down on you. In your hair, in your mouth…
        (I should be writing horror-stories…)


      2. I have written some poems not with horror in, but mirroring depression and like being in a jar bell. But some who knows me became very worried. I must have writtenn some really good poems.


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