Sunday, March 07, 2004
Needles. I have a fear of needles and slit wrists. Ever since when I was young and contemplating suicide. Not my own, but of make-believe characters' on tv. They give me the creeps. Needles are generally acceptable, but most people can't comprehend why wrists? Well, the inner wrists always look so vulnerable with its more-than-barely-visible veins. And I would go on thinking what would happen if I bring a razor blade down on the thin skin... and so on. This is sick. I don't want to dwell on such unnecessarily gross matters. Recently the topic came up in three distinct conversations. And in one of them, I was questioned over the correlation between this fear and a civic organization I am involved in.
"I would be donating blood this Wednesday."
"Eeww."
"But... aren't you in UNSA?"
"Eh, yea. I just can't do it. Anything else but."
"What are you scared of?"
"I got a phobia of needles. Can't stand 'em."
"Oh."
I can't see the preconceived notion. And so, I being an ex-co member in a UN-affiliated organization would make me the most selfless youth around who contributes 90% of her allowance to poor kids in Timor Leste ond donates blood in every opportunity? Don't kid yourself. I have my fears. As real as yours too.
"I would be donating blood this Wednesday."
"Eeww."
"But... aren't you in UNSA?"
"Eh, yea. I just can't do it. Anything else but."
"What are you scared of?"
"I got a phobia of needles. Can't stand 'em."
"Oh."
I can't see the preconceived notion. And so, I being an ex-co member in a UN-affiliated organization would make me the most selfless youth around who contributes 90% of her allowance to poor kids in Timor Leste ond donates blood in every opportunity? Don't kid yourself. I have my fears. As real as yours too.
