Before it's cracked open, filled with black on white, slanting rightwards. The promise of a clean slate, an unfinished tale, a future as wide as a prairie sky. This time, this notebook, this attempt. This is the one. I forsake all others, half-filled with cursive and point form character sketches. No demanding cursor blinking accusations of procrastination or mental block. This book. These pages. Soon to be filled. Great words. Great ideas. Great things. Great work.
If only I could find a decent pen.
1 day ago