First morning from inside the closet

In arranging my new apartment I found it necessary to cloister my writing desk away in a sizable closet adjacent to my boudoir.
Having removed the door, I converted the once enclosed and mysterious space into an open and creative-prone cocoon.
Whatever wings flourish painfully open from within this minor chrysalis shall surely carry me into the farthest reaches of my need to self-explain.

And THEN people will begin to understand me.
Oh, I'm just kidding. Lord knows that's not going to happen anytime soon.
I'm still in my twenties.