Most people don't see me coming. Perhaps I have that kind of face.
My name isn't scribed in the annals of the noteworthy, nor am I approached on the street for advice or autographs. I'd rather keep it that way. I find work its own reward and creativity its highest echelon. I'm not in it for a prize.
I've heard gated gasps of surprise, awe and bewilderment directed at my body of work so often I've come to expect the response as the norm. Should I ever write a memoir, it will most likely be entitled The Man They Didn't See Coming. But I digress.
Will I break my back for you? No. But I will grind my bones into powder to get the job done. The end result will burn in my blood like a fever. I've made enough mistakes in my life to know their valuable lessons deserve the highest regard.
While it may strike a clichéd chord in your mind, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror if I didn't function like a beast in heat. My machine works best at peak level. I don't need sleeping pills - the reward of exhaustion sustains my slumber.
Think this is nothing but hyperbole? Put me on the spot, toe the line and say go. Then just try to keep up with me. Just try. I dare you.