Hello there, Blank Page. How are you today?
I am not sure what I'm doing here. I've been visiting with old pages lately and they are just nothing like you. They are so problematic and have so much baggage. I realize much of that is what I bring to them, but still, there is something about you, Blank Page.
There is something so fresh, optimistic and, sometimes frightening about you. But, really, I should come by more often. You usually make me feel better and you don't scream your problems to me like those other pages do. Those novels, stories, poems, even notes just don't listen like you. You are the best. You sit there and you take and take and take. So thank you, Blank Page. Thanks for always being there, for always being willing to accept whoever I might be on any given day. You rock, Blank Page. You rock!
Okay, I realize it's nice to be here, but it is also complicated. I can't see you all the time. If I want to go anywhere, I have to see those other pages. I have to revise and rework, and think about the problems those other pages have. You have your limits. You can't be my all-the-time-page. You are a little too, you know, blank.
But I will visit more often; for all the energy you provide, I'll be back. When I'm ready or when I need you and I know you'll be there. You'll be there.