“Fear is the cheapest room in the house.  I would like to see you living in better conditions.”  Hafiz

HA, that’s for damn sure!  Fear does not dress up nicely.  But sometimes it is garishly tempting.  “Come and sit with me dah’in, and I’ll tell you a ghost story that will chill your bones.”  It says. 

Fear is sneaky.  I’m moving through a shop, minding my own business, and all of a sudden Fear says “You don’t have enough.  Ever. You NEVER have enough!”  And I am bereft, downtrodden, on the street, banished from my community in shame.

It’s a story that seems to be a neon flashing light in my head, blinding me without warning.

I want to pull the plug and move to another neighborhood.