the wisdom of the night

It is settled. I have decided. I have conceived the greatest plan of my life. The idea of ideas. I am building a log cabin and living in it for as long as I need. While living in the cabin, I will develop my writing, finish the grand opus that I know is floating around in my skull, and live off of fresh fish and tree bark. And berries, I like berries. You are most certainly thinking, "Michael, how is this the greatest plan ever?" Or even, "Michael, we have a nice white jacket and padded room waiting for you buddy." Well, to that I say, no. Because it's my life [I'm trying to remember those Bon Jovi lyrics, but they elude me.]
I know that isn't a great answer or response. I know. But seriously, think about it. By building a cabin I will grow strong and burly and have all of my clothes magically turned to plaid and blue jeans. We all know that living in a cabin away from civilization automatically makes you a good writer, it's just the way of the universe, like the magic plaid. And by living off of fish and trees and poisonous fruit [the plaid makes me immune], I will gain impossibly sage-like wisdom and knowledge, and people will want to hear my advice. It is so perfect. A little sacrifice now, unlimited book sales later. Seriously, this is amazing.