One would expect that she could write even one philosophical statement after reading a bunch of Shakespeare's plays over again. However, that is sadly not the case. Ironically, I have lost my wills to write at all. Tragedies, comedies, blood baths, they are all wonderful works, and yet I cannot reproduce anything even remotely close to them. I find it discouraging. However, life will proceed sooner or later, and I will get my muse back sooner or later. The previous is what I beg for the most, but I honestly believe that the latter is what is going to transgress all else.

I was trying to be philosophical in my explication on why I can't write, and yet I think I pretty much failed. Anyways, I can't really write for whatever reason at the moment, and I am waiting patiently for my muse to come back.