Poisoned Rationality

Glossophobia is the fear of public speaking.

And, I have it!

This affects as much as 75% of the population. It is ranked above the fear of death.

I am not certain what is more troubling; the fact that I am influenced by an unsound horror of the masses or that my fright is so irrational that I am more alarmed to utter syllables into the hearing than to be slaughtered. That could be used for my gain if I was going to slay the Lions of Injustice habitually. But, unfortunately, a crowd’s expectant ears will almost certainly be more ordinary in my days than a beast beckoning me for a duel. Frankly, my fear is dim-witted.

Yesterday, I had to speak in front of a multitude. A crowd of prisoners. Normally, I shun any kind of situation where I am being noticed by a collective group. When it is my birthday, I avoid places like the cafeteria or any location where those gathered could sing me their tuneful wishes. In high school, I took F’s on assigned speeches in order to stay unnoticed and unmoved at my desk. But, last night I could not sit sweetly among the crowd for my charge was to encourage them with my presence and my message. Unhappily, I could not mollify my self-interested longing to remain unvoiced. My selfishness would just not do. Since those facing me were incarcerated for their selfish acts and doubtlessly wounded by others selfishness toward them, I had to counteract their life experience in what small way I could. So, I stood up and spoke. At first, I scarcely remembered what a word was and each one was agonizing to force out of my jaws but, in time, my difficulty transitioned into ease. By the end my rendezvous with Fear, I moderately enjoyed relaying what I was confident about confidently to the inmates. I think I just might grin. Maybe not.

I get to orate my thoughts to a multitude of prisons...

every Wednesday…

for a semester…

I’ll reconsider that grin in a month…

Here it goes…