From the darker side of Fear

The gnawing sensation inside the pit of my stomach tells me the Fear is present. The little annoyance reminding me that something just isn't right. I know what that something is and it is not all together tangible. It is an echo of a memory that perhaps faded long ago, however it remains; embedded in life, clinging to cellular material like a foul odour which permeates the air. A rot! Unwilling to decay into the dust of its birth place. It remains and will perhaps, always be present to worm itself into the thought process. To detract me from some connection that I may need or want. Such it is. The darkness of Fear, hiding amongst the shadows of despair. Silently weeping, spreading her "scabbed wings"; creating a shield or veil of solitude.

Its the Fear that drags me into the mire of self pity and woe. What is fear? Is there a reason to fear? One ought to be afraid of certain things so one could postulate it as a relative emotive reaction. However, daily affairs ought not induce such a response, yet the knotted insides express another perspective. Its irrational and at the same time very rational. The double edged sword. What conclusion can be found amongst the rabble of anxiety? Perhaps there is a lesson which seeks to be taught? Perhaps the persistent knot only seeks self replication. A learnt emotive response that can perhaps be morphed into a higher lesson than that of the base instinct of fear.

Some more to ponder over while the crawling subsides a little.