Will

The wonky ceiling fan dangles precariously as it finishes its revolutions. It shall fall onto my balding skull and finish me off for good. Can I will it to fall? Will? What an odd thing will is. Can you decieve yourself and every one else? You have no will, why fake it? The fan shall dangle precariously for the night, but I can't will it to fall - it will do it on its own accord, when gravity overpowers its weakened structure. There is no will. Will becomes a miraculous overcoming of all human limitations in the noetic mind and rendered useless, a pipe dream.