Tag: pens

Pen glides across paper, silently. Simple meeting notes are an act of pleasure. No resistance to ideas; paper begging me for more, more.

What do I write?

What is worthy of this paper?

Gel ink glistens on the page. The page is waiting, wanting more.
The idea.

A fury of writing. Paper absorbing words, a glistening trail of thought left behind as ideas move forward, a mind empties onto the paper.

Oh, the paper.

Then, like an impatient lover, I must wait for the ink to dry. Eager for the next page, ideas flowing forward, tide unstoppable.

All for this paper, this sensual paper.

Moleskine.