I'm stuck in a car that never moves. I've long ago taken the backseat, yet my body resides in the driver's side. I am perfectly aware of this defection, yet my means of repair never answer their call. Mentally, I stare at this body behind the wheel. It's eyes dance nervously across the scenery, it's fingers tap tensely on the steering wheel, driven by some unknown beat. Mentally, I stare as this body twitches; the driver becomes driven by spasms of fear. The question doesn't become: What can I do to overcome this, as so many had thought. But the question becomes: What seed had been planted in me to arrive at this state? I wish I could find the knowledge to ascertain what had happened to me. What trauma was I subjected to at such a young age? What horror had been brought upon my virgin eyes? Though my fear is not only directed at one thing. Unfortunately, I'm fearful that perhaps the seed is still growing. Feeding on life, feeding on the six-o'clock news and the morning paper. As I wake up each day, to face the trials and tribulations, to face the joy and convenience, I believe I feel the seed grow within me. It spreads its negativity, its fears, and its doubts into my mind. It digs its roots deep within the soil of my mind, touching everything, infecting everything. I know its there, yet I was to late to realize it was there. Thru patience, a virtue I never was blessed with, and thru experience I can conquer this ailment. Yet I feel that will only be a quarter of the battle. I realize this, and want to lie down in defeat. Release myself to these horrors and rest. It seems these times are picky. I spend the larger part of my life without these fears, and without these thoughts. I spend the larger part of my life content with all that is around me. Yet the underlining fact is that I spend the larger part of my life running away from my fears. I become a timid mouse, wandering out of my little burrow to face the future. As I peak my head out, I scan the horizon slowly, I take steps toward the true world, tiny, slow steps. As I gradually make my way out, I constantly check my ground. I feel as If I've become a blind man, fallen into unknown territory, into a deep pit. I am just as paranoid as this blind man would have been, as he looks at a dark world thru sightless eyes. I'm still the same mouse though, scampering out of my home. If I feel the slightest change of air, I stop, dead to all. I fear a giant hawk may come down upon me, snatching me from my sanctuary. As I am swiftly lifted from the air, I see the world below me shrink dramatically. Away I go from my home, away I go from where I was forever safe, and away I go from my life of fear. My head becomes a record player, and this very thought becomes a scratched record. Forever replaying in my head, doomed to skip over and over. I wish there would be something I could do, to stop this record that plays. Yet it plays as if it the thought of stopping could diminish it. I run back to my little cubbyhole in the side of the hill, and return to a society where I'm a peasant, governed by fear. This communistic ruler oppresses me and this pessimistic ruler depresses me. Thoughts of revolt become a common play done in my head. The revisions to the script are all my ideas and I become the director. Different scenarios are done, and I mark out each one as stupid and lame. As deeply ruled as I may be, I still believe in an overthrow over the government. There becomes word that there is a possibility to assassinate the ruler, and this possibility begs to become a reality. I make the decision that the only way to no longer be ruled is to become spontaneous. Do the unexpected so quickly, that this king has no time to react and take over. I make out the plans, and I begin to put them into action. I give my mind the ultimatum and I move out. I attack with full force, my determination a tidal wave to drown out all fear. As the tides reside, it takes the fear with it. No time goes by and I'm left alone now on the beaches of my mind. I wanted to be alone in my mind the entire time. I wanted to be able to gaze at the sun rising, without wanting to check over my shoulder. I wanted to be able to feel the cool breeze sweeping up from the ocean, and not worry about feeling a shadow fall upon me, and dragging me away from my seat. No longer am I the timid mouse, twitching constantly, but I become the fearless eagle. Gliding thru the air without care, taking on all, never stopping. I become the driver now, behind the wheel, behind my destiny, ahead my life. I have conquered the fear that had been born with me. I had driven the sword of realism thru its distorted heart and conquered the beast that haunted my living dreams. With this obstacle in my path clearly jumped, I close my eyes and achieve my dreams