eight-and-a-half by eleven.

do you think paper knows what it's going to be?

like this sheet of eight-and-a-half by eleven will end up being a boring legal document about freedom of speech or some nonsense people will store away in their desks and never look at again,

or this sheet of eight-and-a-half by eleven will become some incredible masterpiece drawn out in your free time that you post on your four-walled cubicle for every passer-by to contemplate and analyze and look.

or perhaps it will be the mess up you encountered while trying to type your boring legal document about freedom of speech or some nonsense that you edited and rewrote and splattered in red ink and crumpled and spilled coffee on and threw away?

sometimes, i feel like i'm not adding to a sheet of paper, but rather taking away the white from it to reveal a blue or black or maybe dark gray or i guess if that sheet is adventurous it might be green or purple or even many of these if you picked a lucky one.

white sheets of paper are exciting, and i do not want to hear otherwise.