My family finding out about my fictional crushes, showing that I've got a superbly weird taste in fictional men.
Turn that into your armour. I threaten my friends and family with my search history so they'll never be tempted to snoop.
Not much at this point. After having open heart surgery and having my heart stop a couple of times, I'm not really scared of much.
If it’s okay, would you explain why? Did you make your preparations in case of death, or are like “give your best shot, life”?
Really, the only thing I was scared of was needles. Well, I've been poked and stabbed more times since 2018 than I can count. Another blood draw and IV last Thursday in fact.
Your perspective on fear and pain changes once you've been cracked open like a lobster and laced back up with metal like a ballet slipper.
The flesh eating disease. It's everywhere and you can get it from a minor cut.
That I have pee pee dribbles on my pants, after walking out of a work or public restroom. It's not even that I'm afraid I actually have pee pee dribbles, but that when I washed my hands, water drops got on or around my crotchal region, and people will believe it's pee pee.
Fear of ending up in Guantanamo and getting tortured. (I'm American)
I can’t look at super close up pictures of insects, like where you can see all the little hairs and shit. Sends shivers down my spine. The worst part is I had to dissect a giant grasshopper in high school anatomy. God I still remember having to rip its mandibles out of its face. Gahh shiver. The cat was much more manageable later on in the year lol
Never being able to get out from my family's thumb. Dying misirable, bitter, and angry at the world because my whole life was squandered. Realizing my one chance to have avoided all this passed thirty years ago and even then it was at best a half-chance.
Being helpless in a situation I had already thought about but never had the opportunity to prepare for.
Putin and Trump.
I’ve tried to live a good life, and tried to be a good influence around me. My secret fear is suddenly dying in public, and farting like some corpses.
I want to be remembered as a good coworker or friend, etc., not as the guy who farted loudly after dying.
Speak for yourself; If I could be remembered by a fart that rattled the souls of everyone nearby, I’d die happy.
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