On Pencils and Papers

I have to hold onto this pencil tightly, and this paper too. Because I am a writer the pencils and the papers of the world are my enemy. I must squeeze the pencil between my thumb and pointer (or picker at Mr. Boba’s request) finger so that it will not escape; the same is true of the paper except that it is not between my pointer finger and thumb.
Surely most people would think of pencil and paper as a writer an artist’s best friends, but they are mistaken! The pencil, which is easily broken, is the object which causes me to lose precious poems and great ideas because I cannot find it. Why not use a computer or a pen? Because I find that writing with a pencil is much more satisfying than anything else. My best poems, the ones that were published, were written with pencil onto plain, white sheets of paper.
While I am thinking about paper, I shall move onto it. (Please excuse a moment because I must sharpen this pencil.) Anyway, paper, like its partner in crime, is working to bring the downfall of creative persons everywhere! When I reach for a piece of paper with a project in mind such as making a touch-the-picture storybook for the disabled students with whom I volunteer, I must exercise great caution or risk receiving a non-life threatening, but painful paper cut. If I were to receive a paper cut then easily could I lose all of my ideas!
Since I distinctly recall hearing that to have a conspiracy one must have at least five members, this paragraph shall be dedicated to the evils of the pencil sharpener, the spiral bound notebook, and (dramatic pause) the pen! Although the pencil sharpener may seem to be an object of great goodness, it is not. Often does my pencil sharpener eat my pencils and then refuse to work thus preventing me from working. Next the spiral notebook, being the sinister, or left-handed, person that I am, spiral notebook are incredibly evil! The spiral binding being on the same side as my hand needs to be makes writing painful and awkward. When I am in pain I do not find writing nearly as enjoyable and I am not nearly as creative. Plus spiral notebooks make horrible messes when the paper is torn out. They are evil. Onto the most evil object of all: (musical swell) the pen! The pen, while seeming innocent enough, can ruin all my hard work in a mere moment alone with the paper. Leaks. Need I say more? I think not.
Even with all the evilness against me, I will prevail! I will write my books and essays and I will make myself known! Just let them try and stop me!