At Some Point It May Happen

That moment when you are confronted with the ne plus ultra of your fears. We all have an antidiluvean anxiety of the worst possible thing happening. Whatever the worst is…whoever the worst is…god forbid it should happen. Is it a monster of some sort? Is it having to deal with the ultimate in perversions? The worst possible nightmare of depravity…the Dorian Grey portrait in the closet come to terrible and fearsome life.

And whether we actually come face to face with this horror or not, the fear that we may have to do so, the anticipatory dread that we may have to have real and actual intercourse of any kind with our ultimate fear is enough to plunge the most hearty and psychically strongest among us into a terrible existential anxiety.

I have such a fear.

In the dead of night, sometimes I am startled awake to the horrible terror that someday I may have to confront my fear of fear. Someday I may be in the throes of ministrations from a do-gooder.

I barely can say the words…but I will tell you, the thought that I may have to be attended to by a smiling helpful asshole (the actual talking asshole depicted in Cronenberg’s movie “Naked Lunch” comes to mind)…who is in the ultimate glee of his pride fills me with holy dread and angst. A mother-fucker or child molester is surely someone to be loathed, but a do-gooder who cannot wait to minister to the destitute and needy in order to feel he has fulfilled his duty to Christ is surely the lowest of the low.

Oh good and kind Lord, please…Deliver Me from a do-gooder