i haven't written anything much for the past year. by choice, yes. but now that i do want to write i find that i can't. maybe i have nothing to write about. summer is, after all, the most uneventful part of the year. or maybe i just ran out of inspiration. maybe i just don't see the things i can write about anymore. maybe i have turned into a dull, practical person and i only see what i need at the moment. maybe the writer in me has died. hopefully, she went to heaven. she was, after all, a good writer.