A new world, 

this blog. 

A friend mentioned 

once not liking the word

"blog." 

Well, it was more that

it was just such a mundane 

catchphrase...at least I think 

that is what they meant. 

Anyway, I sorta agree. 

I write endless scribbles 

on endless pieces of paper and napkins

and notebooks. 

I have a love affair

with notebooks. 

I can't stop buying them. 

I'm actually writing a story based off of that very dilemma. 

A girl can't stop buying notebooks. She has dozens of them . The only problem...she hasn't written in a single one. She can't seem to allow herself to begin writing in them. Somehow, she is afraid. Still, the newness is addicting. 

Just like her empty notebooks, she is also afraid to start her life.

She is afraid of the newness, because its something she can't control. 

Unlike a notebook bought at the last moment in line, placed on the shelf, and left to wait till an appointed time.  

I hope to have the book printed so that one side is the book....then you turn it upside down and it is a blank notebook....so that the reader can write in it....or something symbolic like that. 

Well, I'm breaking down my barrier to this digital, clicking, spider web of an Internet, blogging world. Perhaps, when I embark on that new, blank life before me....this might be like a map of how I got there. A click away, so that I can't loose the poem or paragraph dashed upon some random page or half a napkin on my way down to the subway, or at the bottom of my bag.