I'm Not Scared of Merde

What is one thing we were afraid/worried/scared/nervous about/of but aren’t anymore?

or

What is something we are afraid/worried/scared/nervous about/ of now that you don’t think we will be in the future?

Quoting Macklemore in his song Same Love, "America the brave still fears what we don't know" it is not only true for America. Humans in general fear what they don't know. We hear countless stories; UFOs, the Bermuda Triangle, an afterlife. All these things were "invented" from fear of the unknown. Humans don't know if life beyond earth exists, where people have disappeared to when passing a certain part of the earth (now named The Bermuda Triangle), and what happens after you die. Over time, people have created and chosen to believe in things that have not proven to exist. This comes from the human need to feel secure and not at all "in the dark." I think that as people mature, however, this need either diminishes or increases- relative to experiences. I think this is where the classification of "idealists" and "realists" come from. 
I, myself, have been dubbed an idealist (mainly by my sister). This reflects my want to feel secure and unafraid of things I don't know, thus I hold on tightly to my ideals. A realist, on the other hand, is less afraid. A realist relies mostly on their senses, and take things as they are. Of course, the line between an idealist and a realist is not necessarily black and white, but sometimes grey. 
Concluding this rant, Macklemore meant to say that although America praises themselves for being a great strong nation, many Americans are holding on to their ideals and refusing to be open minded towards homosexuals because they simply don't understand them. 

I don't know who to pick for this question. After I decided: Jesus Pleazus.... Come Be My Person

If you could have one person from history to always be with you to help with decisions, who would you pick?

Why?

I've been staring at this blank page for a while now. I really don't know who to pick. So I decided to google "inspiring people in history" and choose the first person to pick (that I know, obviously) and write about him/her. 

I pick Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ was a man of many talents, or so I hear. I'd imagine that after we get properly acquainted, Jesus would help me perform the average miracle or two, when I come across the (I'm hoping) "normal" problems I encounter in my teenage life. I don't really know the range of his powers, but taking into consideration that the man could turn water into wine (water into wine, people!), I'm sure he could, like, get a boy to fall in love with me or something. Or, whatever. I'd settle for like, perfect grades (3adeee). Anyway, so yeah. I'd imagine Jesus would also give me good advice, he seemed like he knew what he was talking about when he said all that wise stuff he said. So, why not have a guy like Jesus around? Yeah. I think that would be pretty cool. 

"We'll Get Through This," Said No One to No One.

"Coldness and damp. An ungodly stench. The boy clutched his throat. He could see part of a stone wall. Clay floor. An old mattress darkly stained. He crouched and stepped down again and held out the light. Huddled against the back wall were naked people, male and female, all trying to hide, shielding their faces with their hands." - Cormac McCarthy, The Road

In 1964, Dr. Seymour Melman of Columbia University, an industrial engineer, estimated that the USA had enough nuclear weapons to kill every living thing on earth 1250 times over, and Russia had enough to kill everything 145 times over. 

Imagine the bombs all dropped, and the dust has settled. You are alive, but not much else is. Tell your story. 

I wake up from my deep sleep, hoping that when I open my eyes this nightmare would be over. It's not, and I find myself awake again in my mole rat hole, buried deep in the ground. My safe haven, the one that protected me from the bombs. The bombs that killed all my friends, family; my husband and children. Why me? I keep thinking, why did it have to be me that was left here all alone? As a religious person, in this scenario (or the one I predict I would become in such a situation as I have a strong belief that life-altering [usually negative] situations such as this one inevitably make people more religious/spiritual in some way), I can't help but think that a higher power did this to me on purpose. What was I supposed to do now? Procreate? Start a new generation of mankind all on my own? Could there possibly be someone else out there? No. There wasn't, the never-ending silence reassured me. It was me. Just me. Me and this world, left to fend for myself. But from what? I was safe. No, I wasn't. I was hungry. Yes, I am hungry. I look around. The bombs took everything, mankind was so destructive that they ruined themselves, wiping out their entire existence in their  corruption. No, almost wiping out. I'm still here. I, the last of the breed. The highest of the food chain, or rather the only component of the food chain now. I sat down to ponder my future.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere- a small parachute attached to a metal box descended before me. I opened it up. There were two pills inside. One that said "live" and the other "die". Live, live... my first instinct told me. Huh, I guess that's the whole fight or flight phenomenon I learned in grade-school really showed. Even as a last resource, my first reaction was to live- to continue on. I know the heroic thing for me to do was to take the "die" pill- poetically killing the most destructive species of this planet and perhaps allowing a new one to take it's dominant place via the sender of this packet, perhaps. However, all parties present were in concord with the fact that the option of living was far better off than dying- however the horrible condition which the world in which I lived in resided.

Taking the "live" pill, I died a slow and painful death.

Growing Older Can Feel Colder- or so I THOUGHT!

When you were small children, you could behave in a very different way to how you do now. When as a small child you ran and leapt on grandma, grandma was delighted and gave you love. When you stumbled and fell on the coffee table, you hurt yourself and had to be cuddled. 

What would happen now if you ran and leapt at grandma, or fell onto the coffee table. Think of other things in which you can/must behave differently (more responsibly/ with restraint) now you are much bigger and stronger. 

I always think about how growing older is constantly changing the dos and don'ts in my life and I find I commonly have no choice except to mourn them and move on. At a time in my life where my mom would constantly bug me about my food choices, study habits, and health, I not only took these things for granted- I yearned for a time where I would become more independent, free from the constant "ball and chain"(my mother). Ugh. How wrong I was. How very very wrong. Nowadays, I feel like a spider-spawn, ridded of my parents and at the verge of getting eaten by them. It feels that my parents want to teach me a lesson, every time I find myself lost in a situation- drowning as I search for the distant surface. I must say, that although this comes with obvious perks... the dramatic side of me feels neglected to some extent.

In contrast to the times where my mom would cater to most of my needs including my meals, reminding and even forcing me to take my medication, organising my timetable and after school activities, and basically all that motherly-stuff, I now find that taking care of yourself is hard work. I mean, do I seriously need to remember when I have to feed myself now?!

Nah, I'm kidding. My mom wasn't even always that attentive to my needs, but in a positive way- my mom takes pride in the fact that she never helped us with our homework like a lot of moms do, and never sort of spoiled us in any way. I guess that's good because, despite the fact that I'm older and it's different, it's not that much different- and I totally still run into my grandma's arms, who cares if I fell into the coffee table or not. My grandmas my bestie, last week she sent me a perfume from Brazil called "Dahlia Noir" which means the black Dalia, 'cause she's just awesome like that. And thoughtful. And I'm her favourite plus we look like each other.