Fear

I fight with it. Fear. Not the fear of my own, although I do possess some sorts of fear like anyone else, but the fear I fight regularly in my present life is not that of my own, but of my loved one.
Is it even possible to fight against the fear of someone else?
Yes, it is. People do it. Some people do it. When it's necessary.
Like, parents trying to convince their kids that masturbation won't blind them.
Like, social workers try to help the old or the patients facing difficulties.
Like, a General tries to inspire courage out of the chest of the fearful soldiers.

So it seems that fighting against others' fears is somewhat an act of performing a function, doesn't it?

It'll require then something divine, something powerful to transform this functionality. Otherwise, any roll would wear out someday.

Belief. Faith. Some kind of love. Commitment. These are what would be needed.

To give, in a word.

And what about my own fear?
I myself, whenever facing this question, the first thought has been always: looking right at it.
But you need a mirror to look at your own eyes.

A place.

I just want to have a page where I can note down bits and pieces of thoughts. And yeah, of course a space where I can practice my writings.
A space for myself.
I think this is where we all start, isn't it? It seems inevitably natural to us that without a mirror, no one can see himself or herself clearly, if at all. And all writings implies by nature a certain kind of "seeing", then a space for oneself is hence implied in it.
Can we write without have such a space, where all disturbance and distraction are far away, beyond reach?
Strictly speaking, no, of course. Although we do perform the act of writing before (or under) the eyes of others, in occasions like exams or filling forms etc., but the writing itself is always done by oneself alone, all interactions with others would be in fact an intrusion and interruption.
So, I need this place.