I stare at this blank piece of paper, wondering what it might contain when I am through. I look at it and I see lines. But I also see nothing. I stare and all I see is pure emptiness. I see an empty container ready to hold and conceal my heart. Some people give their heart to their love. But me? Paper. She holds my heart. My feelings, thoughts, emotions, fears, needs and hopes are all stored right here. On paper. That wonderful substance that records my life. Without paper I am nothing, without writing I’m doomed. And so I will write for the rest of my life. I won’t stop. For paper. Paper is my life.