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insight entry

This was the entry i was going to write about a while back, but i forgot i was going to write about it until now.

A couple of years ago, I read this book for one of my classes, and because of it, i developed a fear of death. an irrational phobia. If i think too much about people that have died, either relatives, friends' relatives, or even just historical figures, it can freak me out that some day, i'm not going to be alive anymore. i will exist merely as a memory to those whose lives i've touched, and then those lives will fade, and i'll become a statistic.

i know it's not uncommon for people to have that sort of fear. i still hate having it, but that's not really what this entry is about. An interesting side effect to this fear i've developed is that at certain random points, i'll become intensely aware of time passing.

I can't pinpoint the exact circumstances that make this happen - i know that it's most likely to happen when i'm not distracted by life or distracted by other random thoughts, but there's a key element in there that's missing - some emotion or some chemical stimuli in me that suddenly freezes me up, and I can almost physically feel seconds ticking by, i can almost physically feel myself getting older. and that heightened awareness of this constant force that propels my experiences into history as opposed to the present can freak the living fuck out of me. I bet if i didn't try to control it, i would have an anxiety attack and maybe go a little crazy.

thinking about this and writing about it makes me aware that maybe it's not really *death* that scares me, but *time* that scares me. it's such an inevitable thing that time is going to move forward, and that's something that i can't control, i wasn't meant to control, but yet i want to control.

What's funny is that i only seem to be afraid on extreme ends of the spectrum - either in the miniscule realm of seconds where I can feel them going by, or in the bigger picture where I feel the end of my life coming. But when minutes go by, when days, months, years, go by... that doesn't scare me. I've lived on this earth for almost twenty-nine years now. That's not too freaky unless I think about how that brings me closer to death, which i don't think about a lot. Some, but not a lot.

A part of me goes back and forth in thinking that settling down to a typical family-like life of wife and kids would either make me feel better or feel worse. i'm not sure which it would be. I don't think that getting married and such would suddenly make me feel "old". I don't feel... old or young or anything. I feel like me.

Like DDR. I'm one of the older DDR players i know, but when I'm playing DDR, i don't really think about my age. When i'm around all of these high schoolers or undergraduate college types, i don't feel like i'm older than them or a generation older than them. But playing DDR doesn't make me feel *younger* than i am either.

But i don't know how old i *feel* either. I don't feel any particular age... i'm not sure if i ever have. And i think that's why having friends who are forty or having friends who are fifteen doesn't make any sort of difference to me. I tend not to treat age labels as an important factor when it comes to friendship or closeness.

wow. this entry meandered.


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March 2017