[color=Orange]This word could best describe my status quo. I have lost the passion and curiosity for almost all things that used to stir the ripple in my heart. There is no stimulus to drive forward, my engine must be collapsed. I have ever taken an ironical and critical glance toward the meaningless and mediocre existence, those who simply work for survival and not for the instinctive and sensuous joviality. However, it seems that I have become more and more reconciled with reality, the senseless and emotionless actuality. There is not any more the sentimental and urgent cry for more challenging and idealistic prospect. Is it the decay of the mighty heart or the loss of wandering soul? I am tired; I am extremely tired of the current life. Without enthusiastic temper, life is compared to the barren land, what leaves behind would be cowardice and defeated idealism. I am stuck in the thorns, as Shelley groans and moans: I fall upon the thorn of life! I bleed! …… I have no ambition to counter attack again. My Goodness! Should I surrender or must I consume the last glimmer of hope? Life is ennui. I agree with you, Hemingway, but I fail to master the code with the set of principles you have adhered to: endurance, courage, dignity, wisdom, grace. What could enable me to withhold the grace under pressure? How should I take in belief that the serenity of life comes from working usefully and responsibly? Is it transitional period? If so, allow me to have more time to settle down but not to break down.[/color]