Fandango is the host of Fandango’s Dog Days of August. Fandango says:
Today’s theme is “your greatest fear.” Is it death? Disease? Ghosts? Someone? Something? Share a story, a poem, a photo, a drawing, some music, or whatever you wish to share about your greatest fear. If you wish to participate, please write your post, use the tag #FDDA, and create a pingback to Fandango’s post (at the above link) or manually add your link in the comments.
Fandango asked a tough one today, as it seems as if there are so many fears to choose from that it is tough to pick just one. Screening and funneling, funneling and screening it down, aside from death, my worst fear is never being able to touch my loved ones again. My mind never just screeches to a halt and settles on an answer, as it immediately starts bouncing off in a rippling fashion, such as what led to the situation to begin with and then bounces again outwardly to what happens next.
Where that worse fear (2nd to death) begins is with the pandemic. It’s taken iron will not to immerse my consciousness in it, as it’s an energy sucker if there ever was one. I do hear/see bits and pieces about it though. What they tell me is that many places other than the US are doing a good job of putting safety measures in place and their numbers are down. I’ve heard some places are lightening up too soon so their numbers are starting to rise. What I also hear is that across the US – yes, some places are better than others – many are in denial and acting as if there are no concerns and so take no precautions. I decided I’m not going back to the cat shelter to volunteer after the last time I went in and at least half of the volunteers did not wear masks. When my son checked with the shelter manager she responded that she cannot force people to wear masks. Um, yes she can. Put a sign on the front door and say no mask no entry. What puts them in a bind is that some of the “bigwigs” that have key positions have decided they aren’t wearing masks, so if she puts that sign on the door these key people may walk out. Oh well. They have to do what they have to do, and I have to do what I have to do.
Getting back to the US having an inordinate number of ditzy dipsh*ts that either refuse to believe Covid-19 can harm them, or are so self-centered that they don’t care if they spread the deadly/maiming virus to others, including their loved ones, or they have turned their lives over to the “Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die” (quote from the Bible) school of philosophy.
I can see where at some point, our borders become closed, not by the US itself, but by a refusal of any other nation to allow US citizens to enter their borders. As you might have noticed by now, I have an obsessive-compulsion to associate real life with songs, movies, books, poems, art or any/all of the above. Do you remember the movie, “Escape from New York”? It’s film starring Kurt Russell, in a dystopian future, where New York City has been turned into a walled prison and prisoners are dropped in, and it’s survival of the fittest. My worst fear is that the US becomes a walled prison.