There’s something infinitely comforting about a blank page.
It has always given me a great sense of freedom.
There is no ‘forward linkage’.
There are no shadows.
There is no past.
There is no scar.
There is no bias.
There is space,however.Space that can contain time.
There is emptiness.An emptiness that can be made to seeth with feelings.
There is no colour,yet the possibility of a rainbow.
And that is why I keep coming back.
For the want of a new start.
Even if eventuality awaits.
(Call me a fatalist.Go on.Do it!)