An accomplished writer.

There is no such thing as an accomplished writer. A writer must be a formlessness; a facelessness; a shapelessness. A writer must hold dear his values and morals whilst wrestling with the ghosts of feelings past and the echoes of feelings future which rebounded way back when and only now re-arrive as fuzzy distortions of future consequences.

An accomplished writer is merely a writer who's given up the pursuit; a writer who's accepted that he is merely a penner of prose and knows nothing of the art form.

A writer must ever-develop and never lose the spark of fire born in the first fumbling, impassioned expressions of his heart. A writer must be the phoenix. A writer must never look back in shame but merely look back at what could've been but now is and what could be. Feelings have no bearing on time or destiny. Just strive and try.

If you try to write, you won't be able to; you'll merely force out the words like miserable excess - like excreta weighted with the insoluble fibre of an idiot's load. Don't try to write; just write.