Whiteness is unmerciful.
Sitting, beggin to be filled with text.
But devoid of inspiration, devoid of purpose, except for that which the
author gives it.
Whiteness is intimidating.
When faced with it, many shrink and turn away.
However, I have found that in writing, the only way to cope with
whiteness is to change it into words.
The words themselves do not matter. The writing is the thing.

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Ero, in the year 331 AF.