A Blank Page

So the other day I got a new journal. I love getting new journals, and I’ve come to realize that I end up buying way more than I need. I pondered on the reason for a bit, and ended up writing this entry as the first page of my new journal:

So here we are again. The beginning of yet another new journal. I’m not sure what it is exactly that I find so appealing about a blank journal. It’s definitely not with the intentions of filling up every page with my writing, as I’ve never known myself to have completely used up a journal in all my 17 years. I think part of it comes from the novelty of holding so much possibility. It’s the idea that there are an infinite number of ways that this journal could come out, and I get to control it. But, at the same time, it means that with each page I fill, each word I write, each stroke of the pen that touches the page, I’m decreasing the number of possibilities. And maybe there lies the reason I’ve never finished a journal/diary/notebook cover to cover. Maybe, just maybe, deep down I know that once I use the entirety of a page, I can’t change it. But if for some reason I didn’t like what was written on every other page in a journal, I could try to make up for it in the last few pages, assuming they were left blank. So maybe I’ll just always leave a couple of blank pages at the end; so there’s always room to grow<3


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