People talk about the blank page like it’s a void.
A cold, white silence.
But that’s not true.
A cold, white silence.
But that’s not true.
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It’s a sky waiting for stars, a trailhead whispering adventure.
It’s a mirror, too — one that reflects who you really are the moment you dare to write something down.
It’s about our own reflection.
What if we aren’t good enough?
What if we’re exposed?
It’s about being brave enough to show up anyway.
To write the first messy sentence.
To trust the rhythm of your thoughts.
To give voice to something that can only exist because you chose to name it.
So don’t romanticize the final draft.
Romanticize the guts it took to write that first word.
It’s not a threat.
It’s a promise.