I imagine walking into an abandoned unlit apartment building. As I step through the debris, I consider the risk and the possibility of rat poison sprinkled here and there by the ineffective landlord before the place was condemned. Something tells me to turn around and walk out before I turn into a rat and eat the bait. But before I leave, I have something to say,

"Blowing out someone else's candle doesn't make yours shine brighter."

By the fact that the challenge was created on this site, and the declared intent of said challenge stands in contradiction of that fact, leads one to conclude that it is a satirical commentary on the nature of amateur writing communities - an unpopular school of opinion that will most likely be ignored. In which case, I expect this will never be read. Will never mean anything. And trees that fall in forests don't make a sound...

Well actually, that's not how sound works; it's a vibration of molecules that we can sense with our ears, but the sound isn't created by our ears, so it is the stupidest analogy in the world. Of course the falling tree still causes those vibrations; therefore it makes a sound, only the hubris of man would lead one to conclude otherwise.

On a similar note, if a writer practices writing on a platform where other people can read their work, does it make a difference? If a person feels as though they are being heard, does it matter if the world doesn't know? Have I wasted enough of your time explainng the obvious?

**cue deep voice**

Oh, I regret my past. If I could only give you a window into my mind, into my heart, blackened by pain, anger and the elusive mistress known as vengeance. Your supposed pure heart couldn't take the metaphorical beating, though. You want to know who I am, you want to know my intentions, but heaven help your soul for even asking.

Am I an idiot? The world would that I were. A brazen idot is a danger. A subtle individual with more than a grain of knowledge wields the power of complete destruction. Believe me, I wish I were an idiot, that I could live my life in ignorance, wipe my mind of the agony that others have caused me, or live out my days in sorrow, in solitude. You call me lazy; I laugh at your ignorance, but secretly desire to actualize your false accusation. It would save the world from the future I envision, from the future I intend to realize.

So, to answer your initial question, your challenge as it were, written in haste, in passion, your burning ember turned to ash and blown away as soon as it hits the cold winds of truth, I'm reading this challenge because I read everything. I notice everything. I internalize everything that everyone says, and—lamina by lamina—I silently lay my plans. Oh yes, even this flippantly published challenge adds fire to the flames that will one day consume you.

Am I idle? No, just unnoticed.

Do I have no other assigned job? I'll rephrase by saying I have no other objective.

What are the benefits of visiting this site? That is for you to know soon enough. Patience, my hot headed one.

Do I want to introduce myself to the world?

Yes.

And I will indeed take to the streets.

Yours included.

A real writer, a proper writer is someone who gets published. Anyone else is a dilettante. A proper writer will polish and edit four-fifths of his time, and if he expects to be published, he'll also market another four-fifths of his time. You can always tell a proper writer. Reduced to one-fifth of one-fifth, he's someone who spends 4% of his day in actual creative writing.

If I was to paint but not very well, people would tolerate me. They wouldn't demand I sell my work. Mostly harmless, I'd fill in a canvas and once it's finished, I'd store it down in my basement and no one would care. Why must writing be different? Can't it just stay on my laptop? Why insist I jump through new hoops? I did that enough at my work. For fifty years in structural steel I answered to the man. I don't need either the money or the glory, so why would I spend my retirement hunting down publishers? Leave me alone and let me write.

As for The Prose, I've always had a problem starting a story, so I find the challenges helpful. Left to myself, I tend to stall so they help to spark my creative process. After I finish, I'll exhibit the story just once on the website, and then it goes into storage. Think of it like a choir. They'll stage a concert every so often just to give them direction and target. Would you consider that lazy?

I suspect that you're much younger than me and still working on your career. I belong in a different world, and in my world, there's a place for The Prose. And by the way, in my time on this earth, I have on occasion tried to be helpful to others.

I don't care if I am seen or even heard. My existence is equivilant to happy little wallflower who likes to observe. I formulate thoughts. Sometimes the thoughts become piled up and get to loud. I write because it's an outlet. I don't care if I'm good or not, I just want to get the thoughts out of my head. What is wrong with that? It's called a hobby. It's enjoyable. It's fun. It's recommended. If one wishes to call another out on being idle enough to respond to a challeng like this, then wouldn't the challenger be just as idle? Does one have anything else to do other than try to ruin the enjoyment of others?

I am proudly an optomistic nihilist, meaning that I believe that life has no meaning or value. I am kind to others, and I do what I please with my time, because I know that it all means nothing. I simply make the choices I make because I want to make them.

That said, I have no idea what I am doing on “Prose.” besides the reason that I enjoy writing, and sharing my writing. Is that not enough? Why would one desire to “take to the streets” when it makes no difference in the end? No matter what choice I make, it has no lasting legacy, so I simply choose to do what I please, so long as it is not hurting others. I do with my time what I want, as time forgets all.

Speaking as a published author, writing is probably the least-practical job in the world, and yet, it is my second favorite thing (the first being tea). Why would I trade this for city streets if I do not want to? Besides, there is a pandemic plaguing the world, so what better have I to do than live in those creative worlds crafted by others?

Physical decisions are made by mental thought, and, by reading and writing, I am partaking in mental thought, the essence of both philosophical and physical life. So, I ask one more time: why do anything? There is no reason for anyone to do anything, in the end, so we simply choose to do things out of the influencers of life. I have chosen to write and read the works of others. Others may choose otherwise, but in the end, all choices lead to the same ending. This medium of writing is simply how I choose to get there.

Well let's see let try to address each topic individually.why am I reading your challenge? Because you typed it maybe? Am I idle? Do I have an assigned job? Idle? Yes at this moment I am. Do I need an assigned job? Are you offering one? What are the benefits of visiting this site? Not too many benefits. Only an out let to write for fun for free. Do I want to introduce myself to the world? Not particularly don't really believe the world is reading my answers to varied challenges. Instead take it to the streets give practicle help to others. This could use some explaining. What streets and who are the others? Please don't talk about life in front of the computer. So what would you prefer I talk about? The weather? The virus? Second stimulus check. Hunger in America? Oh well.

Have you ever wonder why you visit this site? So what has this site given you? Don’t you regret your past so much? Or are you an idiot? Go out of the site and give practical help to others. Lazy ///

This site doesn't give me anything. No regrets here. Am I an idiot well yes for responding to this I would consider myself one. Any practical help? What ? How does writing to a challenge compare to practical help? Lazy you bet and loving it