|Exhibit A: Da-da.|
Ever wonder what it's like to be a writer? It's like being a tumbleweed.
You grow and you grow and you grow, green and springy and perhaps a bit prickly, but you create all these amazing seeds... then you die and dry up, your root dries up and is eventually broken by a gust of wind which blows you all over hell for countless years, your carcass spinning and rolling and spreading seeds here and there all the while till you eventually break into pieces; along the way, you occasionally get stuck with a bunch of other dead weeds behind some fence till the wind takes you again... when you're lifeless hulk is invariably smacked by a metaphoric semi on some lonely superhighway in the middle of nowhere. All in all, it's a short green time followed by a long rollicking frolic of death, with some nice seedy moments thrown in. Write on!