Name: Alex

Life: none

Age: old/young

I'm a fencer, fighter, gamer... Crazy, mischeivous, moronic... Strong, weak, and poor, rich...

I'm not really a writer. I just love to learn, read. I love listening to people talk, and I love the stories people tell. They're the pathway to the mind of the writer. Despite similarities, I believe everyone's story is different. The similarities only point to the greatness of the original work. It means the reader respects the writer's abilities enough to copy them, which only points out the skill of the former writer.

Those few sentences up there are the reasons I'm not a writer.

You do not come dramatically, with dragons That rear up with my life between their paws And dash me butchered down beside the wagons, The horses panicking; nor as a clause Clearly set out to warn what can be lost, What out-of-pocket charges must be borne Expenses met; nor as a draughty ghost That's seen, some mornings, running down a lawn. It is these sunless afternoons, I find Install you at my elbow like a bore The chestnut trees are caked with silence. I'm Aware the days pass quicker than before, Smell staler too. And once they fall behind They look like ruin. You have been here some time. -Philip Larkin, To Failure