The fear sucks. I'm going to sucker punch it in the face. Set fire to it with my eyes. Rebel against the system of fear, of an almost too at-peace-comfort, afraid to get sucker punched back or roundhouse kicked in the jaw.
On the other hand, I'm grateful for a time to fly, I suppose. I imagine those animations or drawings of a heart with wings, flying around in the sky. You never see it stop flying to touch the ground. You never see it find a solid home in someone's soul. Eventually, it would be nice to come back down.
And, at times, I have a sudden urge to roundhouse kick something in the jaw. But never a person, or a person's heart. Maybe a fear of knowing such things so freely.
Today was brought to you by anarchy.