I love to talk about my irrational brain.
My irrational brain likes to give me irrational fears.
Like for some reason, I am absolutely petrified by pigeons. Ironic, because I love New York City, and plan to live there one day.
My irrational brain likes to tell me how ugly I am, before I quickly brush it off and remind myself that everything I do is part of my path to self-love.
My irrational brain likes to wake myself up at night, questioning existence sprinkled with philosophical and theological debates, and then I look up at the stars and realize how ineffable this galaxy we live in is… and then I spiral again and begin questioning why the Earth rotates around this Sun, and why not another Sun… and then it’s 3 AM and I ask myself why humans need sleep, and not scientifically, but as in why do humans need to literally be unconscious for 7 hours a day to refuel rather than just be awake?
My irrational brain at random times during the day likes to tell me that I need to get out there more or else I will die lonely.
The funny thing about irrational fears is that when you relinquish that fear is when you step over to the side of relief.
I’m not afraid to learn about humanity and existence, I am afraid of the answer. I hope I never know the true answer. I’d probably not believe it either way.
I’m not afraid of skydiving, I’m afraid of landing.
I’m not afraid of taking exams, I’m afraid of the result.
I’m not afraid to ask out a girl on a date. I’m afraid of the answer.
Irrational fears are irrational. I’m glad that I realize that because it makes it much easier to do things. The answer I can’t really control. You can’t go through life without a little risk.