Paper love

I LOVE paper. If I feel a little out of sorts, somewhat depressed, or if I feel the urge to get creative, I wander around in the University shop where one can buy anything from chocolate, via deodorant and t-shirts, to computers. And mainly, all kinds of paper. And the paper is what lures me. I stand in front of the shelves with bound notebooks, arguing with myself whether I want an anonymous black one without lines (to start a new diary in, maybe even adopting my grandfather's method of writing in different directions to mislead the unauthorized reader), or a sweet flower-covered one (to write the book I always wanted to write, if I could only decide about the subject). I can stand there as somebody else would stand in front of the shelves with candies. But lately I don't really allow myself to buy yet another notebook. I still want to. The attraction of that white paper and the promise of writing something very important on it are still there. But my faith in myself that I will really sit down and write is less these days. Maybe that is connected to the fact that I have a Notebook now, an electronic one. Somehow, the new technologies are creeping up to me, and I begin to doubt the power of paper when there is the internet. Now, when in that unfulfilled mood of 'wanting something', I dream about starting a new blog. One where I really can say whatever I have to say. But maybe I should recycle the old one first...