chronical fear

All the colors, Choi Minho

A fan asked me to answer all the colors of the ask meme. So here that is. :D

Red (seven insecurities): I have a chronic fear that people think I’m stupid tbh; I have been compared to various amphibians and now I’m actually afraid that I look like one; morning breath, every day; that I smell when I come home from the gym, which is kind of silly because of course I do; that I’m not good enough to be loved ahah; that I look funny when I eat; that I like someone more than they like me. 

orange (six fears): dying alone; not being responsible enough to care for someone the way they need to be cared for; that I won’t have the right kind of wine for Kibum the next time he comes over; rejection; that cats will dislike me; and…that there will be no cocoa puffs at the grocery store the next time I go. 

yellow (five turn-ons): cheekbones, sense of humor, good laugh, the way your breath hitches when I touch you slowly, how good you are at playing hard to get. 

green (four life-goals): I want to be a vet; I want to have a family; I want to make breakfast in bed for someone very special to me one day; and, bonus last two, i want to adopt a bunch of pets and play an abundance of pranks on jonghyun

blue (three fears): that I won’t get into vet school; that I’ll get in and fail; that I’ll find a relationship that I really love, something that I’m really invested in, and the other person won’t feel the same way

indigo (two weaknesses): I’m too nice; I fall in love too fast tbh

violet (one thing you love): animals ahahah… :)

I need to be flat out honest for a second.

My upcoming brain scan has me absolutely terrified.

Here’s why.

I have ‘waking seizure’s’ basically I am fully awake but everything just goes blank. I stop. I don’t know who I am. What is happening. Where I am, what I was doing. etc.

My legs have been going 'jelly like’ as of late wherein they lose all feeling.

I’ve hd a headache for two and a half weeks. My record is 4 months. *Straight*

Tie that in with some truly severe passing ou episodes *about two year ago I was in my dads bathroom and I saw nothing but all yellow thn all purple before everyting tunneled and then a similiar episode in a work bathroom*

The headaches. Oh god the headaches.

My doctor is pretty sure it’s fibro and I know it’s pointless to wory ahead of time but…..I honestly can’t hlp it. I just can’t.

Halp

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

—  Those Winter Sundays / Robert Hayden
1/14/15 12:04 AM

Sauntering around longing to whiff the aroma of it
Tracking it, like a predator stalking it’s prey
Ravenously craving a taste unknown to your nerve endings

Thoughts wandering around like smoldering moths; chaos
Resting only where you were shaped to fit
Eating out of the palms you thought were it

Crawling out of infancy, you learn to stand
But down is up, and left is right. Your first step taken blindly
Teaching yourself to see; needing sight beyond perception

Still budding, you find yourself slipping on the blood that was shed
Coming from the corpses who fell victims of manipulation
Myth on top of ash; settling

The substance which held light, now only a chronic misconception
Fearing that you never knew, would be more than dying without finding it
But, never more than housing it’s fraternal half

Emotional nonsense

Primitive blah blah (2)

Lately I’ve been sinking into an infinite abyss of perspective reflection

I’m afraid I will never be able to trust myself

I’m afraid I will never become enlightened and that my conscious will sink deeper into my subconscious

I’m scared witless that I will-become a chain smoker , one day

I’m afraid that one day I’ll die lonely

I’m terrified of being patronised
I’m fearful of chronic nightmares
I’m panicky of being criticised
I’m afraid I’ll die a pessimist
And I’m scared of anxiety

Its all beginning to make sense now ,

I’m afraid of getting warped into societies superficiality

I’m afraid of growing into an apathetic and sadist human being

I’m horrified of getting sucked into humanities conformity and contentness

I’m horror-struck by the fact that this youth is not eternal

The public can never know I wrote this.
- Wanda

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Robert Hayden

anonymous asked:

in response to your post about nantucket on fourth of july, i live here and people just wear whatever they want. it's more casual honestly. although ive never heard of the word dayged before so this message could be totally irrelevant in which case that's my bad

Haha sorry dayged = day rage aka drinking on the beach. But thanks! I have a chronic fear of being under dressed lol

Those Winter Sundays

By Robert Hayden
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?

—  #fathersdsy #happyfather'sday