Although it probably just seems really silly, I think I have a fear of dying alone.
That's it. I don't want to die alone.
Another thing is that I surround myself with too many thoughts like these when I am alone. I can't let them take over my mind, so I have to find someone to take them away from me. Yet, it seems like when they leave me, they return them as if they are a morbid memento of what once was, as a parting gift, and when I open up the box that holds them, I find out that they have multiplied. ~A small sliver of my novel, still a mere collection of words yet to be completed.
-Ranger.
