Friday, March 11, 2011

I dream of sharks

"I am going to learn scuba diving" is something I never thought I'd say. I verily believe that I would rather hurl myself out of a palm oil propelled jet at 28,000 feet than be surrounded by a mass of unpredictable terror called water. I'm the kind of person who believes (occasionally) that a shark will get me on the 8th floor of a tiny hotel swimming pool and that the presence of annoying children is sufficient to 'scare' the shark away. I'm also the kind of person who 'believes' that the swimming pool floor can actually open into itself and jaws will come rushing out to get me. On very rare occasions (but an occasion nevertheless) I find myself unable to open my eyes when in the shower because I 'believe' a shark will be swimming mid-air emerging from the white tiles of my bathroom ready to chew half my face up.

Maybe I just like driving my nervous wreck over the edge (like the way I was doing 110 on the road today and the time I freefalled with a bicycle) because in that brief moment of surreal subconsciousness, nerves have no say whatsoever and reality is suspended. Freud will have something to say about that I'm sure.

So for someone with such self-imposed masochistic tendencies in the unbelievable, I believe I have taken adrenaline to new heights when I say breathlessly, "I am going to learn scuba diving."

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