It was revealed to him,
that he was the needle,
and they the haystack.
He embraced his needle nature,
and ceased with contrivance.
I'll go with something from Arthur Miller: "I wish I had a routine for writing. I get up in the morning and I go out to my studio and I write. And then I tear it up! That's the routine, really. Then, occasionally, something sticks. And then I follow that. The only image I can think of is a man walking around with an iron rod in his hand during a lightning storm."
