Prose

Blank Page

written by: Ithilgalad

I love the look of a blank page. It's like an empty soul, waiting to be filled with my thoughts. There's a special kind of magic there. In writing, I mean. It's like painting a picture with words. And you're in control. If you want to use red, than you can. If you want to mix purple with orange, just to see what you'll get, you can. There's no one there to tell you the sky isn't green, or that grass isn't white. It's just you and your blank page, obeying whatever you command. It can cry, it can bleed. It can laugh, it can scream. It can dance, and it can paint, and it can feel. It can fly you to a realm of dreams, with cotton candy clouds and oragami cranes. It can hurl you into the depths of you mind, where unconscious thoughts you never knew you had are born. It can teach you the lessons of life, that no one dares even whisper to you. It can call to you within the darkest depths of night, when all is quiet, save the silent beating of your heart. And from that darkness, you are born again, like a phoenix from the ashes, defeating the fires of darkness.
And all this runs through my mind, as I stare at the page.

I love the look of a blank page....