Empty minds.

I didn't come up with a fine fart in the afternoon, and I didn't squeeze out a few words after writing for half a day at night.

Obviously there is a detailed outline, and you know what to write, but you lose the ability to organize words, and you repeat what you write, delete, and delete.

It may be the reason why I didn't sleep well yesterday, or it may be that I have reached the cycle of brain exhaustion.

I can only coo.

"The Master of the Sands" can't be written, today the pigeon is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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