Where the paper doth lay, with thy black ink,
Where the hand dare stray, and thine mind think.
Be assured of the stories; they shall never end.
I shall never weary, for I am the Master of the Quill Pen...

I'm a 14-year-old guy, living a regular life in an American home. Or I'm an ageless man, wizened and living a life in seclusion, alone in my castle.

I love to read, write, and play sports, but drumming is my talent. Or I love the silence, the being alone with no distractions, but writing is my life.

I have a family with six other brothers and sisters, living with my original parents of 23 years. I love to just hang out and "chill" with my friends. Or I have no relatives, no family other than my parchment. I have no friends except my quill and the silence.

I plan to have a future, to graduate, to go to college. I live in hope of a family of my own. Or I have already lived out my future, here among my archives. Other than my precious works, I have no hopes.

My name is Dedrick. Or I have long forgotten my name.

Am I one or am I the other? Can you relate to me or can you not fathom my life?

Whether the first or the second, I am one thing for sure: I am the Master of the Quill Pen.