Airplanes have always frightened me.
When you’re up in the air at 25,000 feet and sudden turbulence causes the plane to drop, it always makes me nervous. The feeling that no matter what you do or how you act you have no way of determining your fate is most unsettling. Maybe that’s always true but that particular setting makes it more apparent. I hate it when things are apparent.

My mind wakes up and I feel the cool breeze of a tiny air conditioner above me. The perfectly sized stream wanders through my hair and I open my eyes. I love it when you wake up on an airplane. The fact that everything is accounted for and that you have just enough of everything inspires total content in me. I have my own window, I have my own seat, I have my own blanket, I have my own tiny pillow, I have my own table, I have my own music, and I have my own food. Everything is accounted for. I am just left with my own thoughts, drifting like dreams. There’s something uneasy about that.

Boredom has always frightened me.
I have my own everything except something to do. The airline staff has so graciously provided me with everything I could need, but because of that I am left totally needless. It’s essentially a trap. Why would they do this to us? Without something to occupy ourselves with, we are left to our own thoughts, destroying reality and replacing it with something horrific. What is to stop someone from driving themselves to insanity?
Mental illness has always frightened me.