Inside this paper bag is a world that I create every single night before I go to sleep. There is no one who can, or actually, no one who will create it but me.
It is I, the Founder, who lays down the foundation, the rich, white, buoyant core protected with strong, sturdy crust every night so that you may have a backbone. It is I, the Painter, who spreads the miracles across the foundation in the form of white oceans and seas every night so that you may use their hidden minerals. It is I, the Procurer, who tirelessly retrieves out of the cold, frigid wastelands a round pink moon and places it above your land so that you may navigate. It is I, the Carver, who cuts gold marble and places it in generous, abundant amounts so that you may be wealthy. It is I, the Gardener, who from the greenest plants gives you the greenest leaves so that you may be healthy. It is I, the Convector, who showers you with love from above and affection from beneath so that you may stay warm and feel fulfilled. It is I, the Adorner, who garnishes you with white diamonds and black pearls so that you may look and be beautiful every night and day. It is I, the Protector, who shields you from the harmful viruses and foes of the galaxy by placing a guarding hemisphere all around you. It is I, the Guarantor, who makes sure that you are satisfied and whole both internally and externally. It is I, the Planner, who governs when and where you will be and not be. It is I, the Deliverer, who moves you from one place to another whenever you feel surrounded and enclosed. Finally, it is I, the Creator, who ironically must also be the Destroyer. It is my responsibility to make you exist, and it is my responsibility to make sure you cease to exist.
It is I, the poor University student, who creates this sandwich of marble cheese, miracle whip, lettuce, salt and pepper, all tucked away in wholesome white bread, and puts it inside this paper bag.