I am scared of lizards. The common house lizard will send me jumping out of my seat running to the nearest lizard free spot I can find. I once heard a story of someone my mom knew who had pet lizards they’d carry around in their pant pockets. I didn’t put my hands into my pockets for the rest of that day.

The worst nightmare I ever had is a crazy one. I was young, I’d just watched an episode of Dexter’s Laboratory. I don’t remember the episode but I had a dream where five little Dexters pulled me through the garden opposite to Town Hall in Asad Avenue, which used to be a strict no-go when I was a kid.

I am also scared of wigs, strangely. And of fingernails scratching paper. I’m afraid of failing at things so I often just don’t do things I need to. I’m fearful of breathing in the polluted air our city offers. I’m scared of getting ragged at university. I’m often afraid for my safety on the streets. There’s more but you get the point.