I have been trying to write about fear, about not having it as a child.
About how I knew then, how it would be now, the inevitability of it all.
Because knowledge comes with experience and in living, such cannot be prevented.
To know what the world is truly like, to know the consequences of our actions
and the permenance of those consequences. That is to be feared.

Ignorance is bliss, they say, but it was not simply bliss, it was freedom.
It was time. Ignorance as a child was what I call bravery and others call
foolishness. But a child knows all and does not dwell on it in the least.
Later in life, it is in our effort to fix it, that we let it all sink in.
Those facts then, become a distraction. That distraction from living our lives,
our minds dwelling upon matters for which we have no control. That is fear.

Distress upon impending danger whether real or imagined. The danger is real.
The danger is constant. The World is Danger. But as a child we run towards it,
and as an adult we run from it, so who is brave? And who is foolish? Is it
those that are living, or those that are dwelling?