The fear. The utter fear I constantly feel of a subject most would find invaluable. I live my life, just fine. I do work, just fine. The part that kills me. I get on Prose, with such adventures previously swarming my mind like a beehive. Once the app is pressed, the bees leave. I try to lure them back to no such luck. As adventurous as I previously felt, I fear when I get on Prose, I don't know what to say. I am silenced. I am without imagination.