Another Day

Sometimes, you just need to open up a half-filled journal, and start writing. The thought, or rather suggestion, is romantic. Let your hand guide your mind, not the other way around. Let yourself ride with the movement of your hand, as the tip of the pen flows ink on the surface of the tinted paper. What a cute thought. It’s a nice way of describing something that may be so insignificant to another.
It’s not quite the way it goes these days. You sit in front of a square face, touching its hand, clicking at various expressions. After looking at the same pages of cyberspace, you finally let out that big sigh of acknowledgement.
Sometimes, you just need to open up a document on Microsoft Word, and start writing. Typing away; trying to make sense of the random thoughts that come into mind. When they’re pulled together, you realize you’ve accomplished something just because one other person will hear, and understand.
Paper and empty documents are your best friend. They neither give you unwanted consultation at times when tentative ears are needed or apathetic expressions when you need genuine reassurance. They simply are just there, ready to listen, ready to absorb anything you slash or lather onto their surface.
Blank surfaces are like newborn babies, untainted and unplanned—absolutely bursting with pure potential. Oh the possibilities. The sky’s the limit. But once you make that first sentence; first couple words even, you have already begun to go into a specific direction. Whether it be good or bad, it’s something, going somewhere. There are random spurts and turns, bumps and dead ends. But these things give more identification to the process, and more value to the goal.
It’s not quite the way it goes these days, because it’s all about instant gratification. You pick up on this just by being in your own home. The majority of entertainment is in front of a square face, with your butt in a seated position. The randomness has been reduced and confined to pages of cyberspace, rather than actions. Verbs commonly used are increasingly being identified with laughing out loud when you’re actually just staring blankly at a box, or commenting on another profile invention, or poking someone when you’re actually clicking on a link. But you realize: woe is me! You are guilty of finding these things addicting. You let out that big sigh.
You’ve strayed too far. But tangents are the best parts of graffiti on a blank surface. They keep the conversation going—or at least, you thought it was a conversation. But then you see that there is no response from the other end, just a half-filled journal; waiting. It simply is just there, ready to listen. It’s ready to absorb everything you have to scream and whisper, and it will understand. It has to understand.
This is why paper, and documents are your best friend. From philosophical thought to rantings, to simple observations, they listen. They actually hear you, and they just let it sink in. This is why you go to them; possibly more than any other friend in your life. Now you remember, this is why. All that time, all the time in the world is at your feet to say what you mean, say it the way you want it to mean. No worries, paper and documents aren't going anywhere. Plenty to go around for everyone. Right now is your time with the empty face, your appointment. It's like a therapy session, where the psychologist just sits and says hmm and yeah and interesting while you go on about the little things. The little things portrayed as big things. Oh the possibilities! The sky's the limit. Tell them anything, and they'll learn automatically. Like newborn babies, being conditioned the second they learn how to communicate; the second they officially exist.
Instead of just a pen and paper, you use a half-filled journal because the thought, or rather suggestion, is romantic. It’s alright because your hand is still moving, and the ink is still flowing. Today, you open up a document. Empty, as usual, but absolutely bursting with pure potential. But you’ve come this far, and you realize, you’ve only made one huge circle.