Fear

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. –Franklin Delano Roosevelt

I fear I have a lot more to fear than fear itself.

I fear how much I want to speak out, and be seen.

I fear that no one will want to listen, or see.

I fear that you wouldn’t like me, if you knew me.

I fear that I wouldn’t like me, if I knew me.

I fear that Madam is the only baby in the world that doesn’t need to sleep.

I fear that this will cause a backlog of headaches, which will finally cause my head to explode and spew gore all over our generic apartment white walls.

This place could use some color.

I fear that with sleep deprivation, a sense of humor is the first thing to go.

I fear that one morning I'll wake up and find TEG merged with his computer.

I fear that it wouldn't make much of a difference in my life.

I fear that makes me a bad wife/mom/role model.

I fear that I do look fat in those new pants, and everyone is just too kind to tell me.

I fear that I prefer not to know.

I fear that I am over the hill or possibly under the hill.

I fear that I missed the hill entirely.

I fear that I will never find my great, good place.

I fear that this is as good as it gets.

I fear that I’ve used up my life allotment of words, rendering me mute at 32.

I fear that I've wasted them all.

I fear that I am only trying to impress you.

I fear that I will fail.

I fear that I am inappropriate.

OK, no I don’t.

I fear that I’m exactly as smart as I think I am.

That one is not good either way.

I fear that I don’t have what it takes.

I fear that I don’t know what “it” is.

Perhaps I should get President Clinton to explain it to me.

I fear I might as well face it, I’m addicted to love.

I fear how much I need to open myself up.

I fear that it will never be the "right time."

I fear that it is already too late.

I fear that all I will do is fear.