Dear Dysfunctional,
Throughout history, man has feared what he does not know. The countless superstitions and religions with powerful and frightening deities is proof of this inherent trait of man. However, even in this age of science and enlightenment, man fears all those things that he cannot explain or predict. And for this reason, I'm still afraid of my closet. Yes, those childhood demons which fill the vivid imagination of children still haunt me to this day. I mean, there's absolutely no telling what exactly lives in my closet during the day, let alone at night. And of course, since my brain is trying to inflict as much misery on my life as possible, my imagination kicks into full gear just as soon as my head hits the pillow, and before long, the visions of vicious homicides and midnight possessions (I wonder what it would be like to be possessed, actually) gradually begin to fill my head, and I swear to you, there are some type of eyes watching me from somewhere. And did I mention that as soon as I do rid myself of these visions of horrors (and I can assure you, head dancing sugarplums are in short demand pretty much every day of the year except Christmas), I realize that I didn't turn down the heat, and unless I haul my sorry butt out of bed to turn it down, I am going to wake up in a puddle of sweat.
Which reminds me, I should probably go to bed now...
Sweet dreams, oh you of little sleep,
Bernard Foyel
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