My Writing Metaphor

Before reading this, I wish to note that I tried to keep this as vague as possible in my description and is meant to be somewhat humorous over disgusting.

Writing is a pile of dung. It begins as food brought into a body that shape it into what it will big. The size and shape of the person, either healthy, or corruptive of the body. It is processed in which the food absorbed into the body and the extra stuff that isn't needed is released in a sometimes stressful event as it is expelled out of the body. But that almost always results in relief. To this person it is often seen only as a piece of shit, and is flushed down the toilet, but to others, it can be used as a fertilizer that can be spread to the gardens of others where it will promote growth of food that they will someday eat.

In this way, the food are the thoughts and ideas that enter the mind and will shape it healthfully, or corruptly. In either case, these thoughts are processed in the mind where opinions and other ideas are made and then all that is left is put down on paper in the form of an essay, editorial, novel, etc. This stressful time of trying to find the right words to put down on paper will often cause revisions to old ideas that will be thrown away, but when it is done, whether it has meant something to the person who wrote it or not, there is a happiness of accomplishment. And every now and then, the works will find there way to be valued by others and spread across many people who will grow or cultivate new ideas from this piece of writing.