I spent all of yesterday glued to my TV screen watching the news unfold.

I sent email after email and text after text to reassure all my friends across the world that I and all my loved ones were ok.

I looked out my window at all the people on the street and felt lucky that I wasn’t involved in what happened, nor living in daily fear like those in Iraq.

And I frigged myself as if there was no tomorrow.

It’s not that death and destruction get me horny; nor is it because fear, sadness and worry turn me on.

It comes down to this: with the knowledge that it could have been any one of us; that I too, could have suffered loss like those unfortunate people who lost a family member; that life is something to be valued, because it can be cruelly ripped away from you without warning – with all this running through my head, I felt a sense of urgency, a need to grasp life, before it grasped me.

I found myself watching the most terrible scenes, being scared that this was happening in my city, and feeling awful for those involved. And simultaneously I was filled with the most passionate desire to make love, to fuck with abandon, and to connect with someone so that I might feel alive amongst all the death unfolding before my eyes.

I had to touch myself - feel that I was still alive - so that my passion connected me to the living, not to the dead. With the blood racing through my veins, the adrenalin searing across my body, and my heart pounding heavily in my chest, I felt like my soul was on fire with desire, and needed quenching. So with my hand between my legs I touched myself, and when my climaxes surged through my body, I felt blessed to be alive.

I hear that people get horny at funerals - that when faced with death, the human race reverts back to its most basic function: to procreate - to replace the death with life. And I suppose that in some way, this was what drove my rampant horniness of yesterday. But more than that, I think that faced with the proximity of my own or loved ones possible mortality, it made me think about my own life and about how when faced with death, other fears I have, seem irrelevant and petty by comparison:

• How silly I am feeling scared of being in a relationship: my issues with intimacy do not have to prevent me from getting close to someone.

• How stupid I am thinking that I am not worthy of being a girlfriend to someone: I do have a lot to offer, even if I am unable to see it yet.

• How dumb I am worrying that I am destined to be forever single and alone: I will surely find someone eventually, who wants to be with me.

Looking at my trivial and self-absorbed worries made me think of how life is short, that I have to make the most of it while I can, and not succumb to my own insecurities. So, I want to grasp it, face my fears and challenge myself to start living - properly - in every area of my life.

Carpe Diem as they say; it’s never too late to take things in hand (as I say to myself, every night).

Here’s to the future and all that may come with it.