My dear reader whose eyes soak up my ink like a pipette, greetings. You have made it this far on your journey to understanding that anything is possible. That your mind can do great things on a daily basis: hoist you from despair, brew meaning from chaos, and re-create the whole world behind your eyes. Not always for the best, but with work for you. It’s lying there just below the surface, the reality of the world that can be rewritten. By your hand?
Here is a place where the whole world is recolored constantly. Deconstructed and rebuilt. Where nothing is certain. I hope you can be comfortable here—or rather stay uncomfortable; stay growing, developing and living. Only then will you seek out better life. And do not pause to seek: the world that we have built is cruel to the human being and does not have your best interests at heart. We must build and imagine a better one. Each of us for each of us. But for that we must think, and that is the topic upon which my ink falls: helping one to think.
But what do I know of such deep matters? I am just a pen. It is the writer who gets lost in such complex topics and plans; so much that they do not come back to the page enough. And me? I spend my whole life on the page, constantly dreaming the next word, phrase, thought. Curiosity and wonder as a way of life. It is the reader who has the happy medium: who can turn pages quickly or slowly, entertain or dismiss ideas… search and search for just the bits of magic that spark their heart.
