זה נראה לי כמו הר

And every time you crave for me I'm here
And anything you hunger for I'll share
And I will be quietly standing by
While slowly I am dying inside

Hold me in your arms
And let me be the one who can feel
like I am a child in love

Every time I talk to you you're down
And every time you need a laugh I'm around
And when you forget I'm here - I'm not
It isn't really me that you forgot...

Hold me in your arms
And let me be the one who can feel
Like I am a child in love

Whisper now and tell me how
You'll watch me and tell me
Somehow I'm gonna be alright

Oh, look what you've done
You made a fool of everyone.

Some people are talented. Some people aren't. But some, despite their best wishes, their talent, their hard work - just can't seem to get anything down. Some of the most beloved politicians in the world, some of the most brilliant authors, some of the wittiest Individual's winners - all of them, at some point or another, stood in front of a piece of paper, pen in hand, and could not seem to get their speeches to write themselves no matter how hard they tried.

I am a victim to such horrors. And so I have come before you today, dear judge, dear jury - to demand compensation from my muse. I accuse it of racism! I accuse it of sexism! I accuse it of ungratefullness, laziness, and general misbehaviour. I accuse it of a very bad joke - how very typical of my muse - only this time, it's on my expense. I ask my muse for a hand, and it flips me the finger.

Fourth of July, 1776 - "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." I'm not being greedy or petty - when I was given this average-minus body I was not distressed. I said to myself "fine! I'll be a doctor, a mathematics proffessor". Even when I ped to three-point mathematics in high-school, I did not lose my cool - "I'll try out my luck at the arts" I said. When even my stick-figures looked nervous and my snails seemed to have witnessed Chernovill with their own two awkwardly issemetrical eyes - I decided to simply be witty, shophisticated, funny. If all men are indeed created equal, then I demand equality! A muse the same as Einstein's! As Shakespeare's! A muse like Martin Luther King's! The situation today, Jury, is not equality. What have I asked for? Success in one term where others have in many? Fairness? Equality? Is this not what the Justice System here today stands for?

Judge! Jury! God himself is telling you how unjust this is - just open your handy-dandy bible to Issaiah 5, and see for yourselves: Issaiah's friend planted a vineyard. He dug it, cleared it of stones, planted it with the very best vines. And in return for all his efforts, the grapes turned sour and unworthy of wine. I cry out to you today: I am the friend! My muse is the vineyard! I give it plenty of sleep; I feed it with so much food for thought it should be obese by now; I give it all the time and all the space it needs in our relationship. I even take it out to walks! And what do I get? Empty pages, Judge! Empty pages, not even stained with ink! Where is the justice?!

But, selfish as I might come off, this is not only about me. Oh no. The whole of society is at peril here - because what we are witnessing is the beginning of a terrible breakdown. It begins with one simple muse of an adolescent girl going haywire - but soon, it'll be joined by another one, and another, and another - until a person whose muse still does its job is going to be very rare to find. And let us pause and think of a museless world: a world with no art, a world with no thought, no wisdom. A pointless world. I beg you today, Jury, not to let this happen. It's a slippery slope - one we slip, we won't be able to climb back up to the divine world of muses and thoughts. And the only way to stop ourselves, now - before it's too late, is to punish the muses, show them that they cannot just slack off and ruin our world.

Now, this is nothing new. Since the dawn have time, muses have plotted against humanity. They blackmailed us, made our lives miserable messes - all prices they knew we were willing to pay, if we could - even if only for several minutes - touch the supreme creativity. But they have been blackmailing us for too long and for far too high a price. Van Gough was driven to such despair by his muses that he was forced to cut his ear off before they were satisfied; and I can assure you that, had Einstein been socially adept or handsome, his muses would not have given over e=mc2. Just look at Steven Hawking, for goodness sakes: the more ideas his muses gave him, the worse his disease got. Do I have to start communicating through blinking in order to make a successful speech? Ladies and Gentlemen, we need to open our eyes and realize that the muses have taken us hostage.

I came to you today, respectable judge and distinguished jury, with a reasonable, logical request. Compensation. Now you may be baffled, or even confused - how can you give me what I want? And the real tragedy here is that you can't. You simply can not. I don't want your money, nor do I want you pity; And while a trip to South Korea or South Africa will certainly be greatly appreciated, this is not what I have come here to demand either. And, seeing as my muse is on the defendants part of the court and not anywhere near where it's supposed to be, I can't think of a good solution either. The only thing we are able to do is remember the good old times when muses didn't laze off, when justice was everywhere, and when speeches would write themselves.