To be afraid of the number thirteen is to be afraid of Heaven, to be afraid of what comes after we are whole and complete. It is not a plague fear or a fear of oppression. It is simply a deep reptile panic that we will not be able to sustain our enthusiasm for infinity. We all want Heaven, but such perfection without end frightens us because, yes, what if we find ourselves bored with eternity? Does that mean God has made a mistake in letting us into his spiritual Garden, that our incipient boredom is an imperfection of our souls that can never be healed? Are we, even bound for Heaven, really meant for Hell?
Thirteen is what happens after we have ascended. Thirteen is the number of doubt. Thirteen is the secret rhythm of our lives. Thirteen is why we always fuck up the good things in our lives.
Sabotage, thou art Thirteen. I cast thee behind me, for thy intent faces downward and thy virtue is wed to shadow.