On the Train

Recently, last night actually, I realized a few things:

First, it seems that I am almost always thinking about sex. It's not problematic or anything. If I catch myself having one of those thoughts I usually can beat myself into shape quickly. (pun intended)

Second, this is probably the only reason why I am writing at all right now. I realized that I am still afraid of being alone in the dark. I thought that I had gotten over this fear but I was wrong. I scare myself so easily. It is really tragic. Sounds, shapes, the sound of my own breathing can send me cowering under the cover like a frightened six year old. Just last night I imagined that the black border on my closet door was slowly coming at my face. I had to touch it to prove myself wrong.

Well that is it. I actually realized a few more things, but just now I realized that writing a bunch of pointless realizations is pointless... and I'm tired of writing.