I get to see the world in unbounded manners and patterns of oceans crashing down on the pages and endless endless beam of lines strolling towards nowhere leading to the path of horror and agony creating a void of dreams and memories columned against the walls of our ideas, I have achieved total enlightenment through the craft of my words, and the bending of my mind:

i am a writer of no demands.
a writer of no in betweens.
a writer of pure passion.
a writer of reckless consumption.
a writer with no roof but the trees towering on the hills beside the mountains endlessly inspiring ideas and visions of no pragmatic truth.
a writer with anything but a candle for his hope and a box for his cigarettes.
a writer with no pen but his mind and his tortured soul.
a writer who believes that religion is immoral.

I am the starving writer and I'm full of cliche.