I am a fearful person. I think about death and how I'm going to die pretty much constantly, I think it's in my Dino DNA. I can't help picturing all the horrendous things that could happen to me on a daily basis; I can't help but wonder if it's what's kept me alive for so long...So, I've decided to chronicle them here. Why not expose my pathos to daylight and let everyone on the interwebs know how kookoo crazy I am.
Here's the first in what I promise is a long, never-ending, slightly disturbing list of ways I'm convinced I'm gonna die:
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I'm convinced that a homeless person is going to push me in front of a bus while I wait at the crosswalk for the light to change. I know that this will happen because: a.There are buses downtown, b. There are homeless people downtown, and c. I walk downtown. If you've ever seen a homeless person, you might be thinking, "Oh, she's crazy, they aren't so bad", but that's because you've never seen a downtown homeless person. This is a different species of homeless person, a breed set apart to ruin lives and murder people via Houston Metro.
Lemme explain by pointing out a few examples. I've had a homeless person pee on the sidewalk in front of me while looking at. WHILE LOOKING AT ME. I've had a homeless person jump in front of me while walking to impede my further movement forward and I nearly slammed into him, which he thought was simply delightful. I've had a homeless person punch me in my arm on lightrail cause I was obviously some six headed monster out to eat his brains while we were traveling light speed through the intestines of the giant worm we were riding in (in which we were riding grammar jerk). You see, these ain't yo stand on the corner and beg for stuff with a sign kind of homeless people. These are "I have no idea what planet I'm on, but what I do know is that all these aliens around me must die cause this is kill or be killed up in this piece" kinda homeless.
Now that you are armed with a clearer vision of what I'm talking about, you can understand why it's inevitable that one will launch me into the street some day just as Metro is driving through a light. I actually don't think the guy to do it will be crazy. I imagine him to be real malicious and angry, and probably just curious. And here I am, standing there with my clean teeth and hair, and something about me strikes him as something he hates, maybe my silver ballet flats, and that's when he decides this girl must DIE. He will then non-chalantly walk up behind me, wait until the timing is juuust right, and shove me hard and fast in the back just in time to tumble me head first into an oncoming Metro bus. Satisfied with his handy work he will them shamble away, content with having ridden the world of those aweful silver shoes. 
