There was a time when I did not fear a lot of things. I was oblivious. I confessed my love to my friends, I wrote endless stream-of-conciousness essays for my highschool literature classes, and I ran everywhere I went. Today I find myself censoring the things I want to say, procrastinating for fear that I am not intelligent enough to complete assignments, and carefully considering my next moves. Except for the street. I still often run blindly into traffic. I’m not sure why.