Closets and Basements and Fire Oh My!

Fear, an irrational distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. 

We all feel fear in some way or another, and I guess I have quite a few fears. Fear compels us all in ways that we do not understand, for those afraid of drowning, well you miss out on quite a pool parties in our youths, and probably get made fun of for that fear. Me, well I am afraid of burning to death, closets, and basements. Don't ask me why, but closets being open scares me, so mine is always closed by the time I get into bed. If not, then I freak out and do not sleep until it is shut.  It is really irrational, but the fact that you can put something in a closet just to get it out of the way and forget about it scares me. I looked into my closet here the other day, and I completely forgot my sex boots were in there. I also hate when something falls in the closet because it was stacked wrong, I think someone, or something is in there and it scares me to death. 

My greatest fear is basements, cold, clammy, damp, old, slightly smelly basements. All basements have the same earthy smell to me, even if they are clean, and warm, and slightly inviting, they still hold a tinge of an earthy smell of death. You can place something in a basement, and no one would ever know. I mean, it is easy to banish something to a basement to never be seen again. Where do you put your old prom clothes?, box in the basement. The old toolbox, the workshop in the basement. Your old documents that you may not need anymore but can't get rid of?, into the basement you go. The dead body of the man you raped and murdered, into the basement freezer you go. The basement is a storage place of forgetting made in hell to scare the youngins who open a box that holds their parents old playboys or sex toys.(No, I never found these, I do not know if they exist, and I do not want to know). Basements are my least favorite thing to walk through, especially in older homes. Old homes creak, and crackle with every few steps, they groan, and moan, and have boilers, washers and dryers that had to be bought directly from the set of a horror movie with all the sounds they make. Sure it is irrational, but it is my fear. 

Fear is that irrational, yet slightly understandable feeling we get when something is extremely creepy. We all have them, we all face them, even if it means running up the stairs after doing laundry, or taking a very short bubble bath, wading in a kiddy pool, or lighting a match. Fear rules over us in some way, because even if we face them, do we ever not have the slight feeling of 'Oh my god, what am I doing, I am going to die' every time we walk by what constitutes our fear? So while you all ponder that, I am going to make sure my closet door is shut so I can see my manatee poster, and hope that I have enough clean clothes to last the week.