Paper
I turned off my computer and picked up a notebook. The paper felt alien to my hands. The pen felt like a friend I didn't know anymore. I couldn't decide on what I should write about. I spent most of the time staring at the blacked-out screen.
I spent most of the time staring at the blacked-out screen. The pen felt like a friend I didn't know anymore. The paper felt alien to my hands. I couldn't decide on what I should write about. I turned off my computer and picked up a notebook.