You are a writer. You put words together to be read toward meanings of substance that only you can portray. You want to shape these portrayals, to have others read the substance that holds the meanings created of the words you put together in the dimensionless realm of communication. You have a voice that would speak and you would have eyes that will listen.
I hear you. I read your words. I read them in your eyes. I see the gleam of the writing you hold in the open palm of your mind, ready to be cast to the variant winds of inspection by minds other than your own. I see how you transcribe your tales of perspective and influence in the open-eared view your hungry eyes sound out in the choices you are given, the decisions you make, the actions you undertake, the results of which you then partake to be written into your stories.
You are a writer. I am a reader.