This sentence contains no beauty. Its beauty comes from within the reader herself. How can I create a world for you with a few simple ideas and some clever language?

I can’t.

What I can do is ink the paper with my blood and my soul, taking my past and constructing a message.

And the words still mean nothing.

What I can do is tell you exactly what I feel, and I can share my sorrow and frustration and wit and joy.

And the words still mean nothing.

What you can do is listen, take every word in every paragraph and make your own story from your own impression. The same words may make you shudder or smile or wince or giggle.

And the words still mean nothing.

What you can do is take the words and bring your own beauty to them. You can take a phrase and find secrets and stories within it; secrets and stories that change and shape your life.

And the words still mean nothing.

All I bring to the paper is everything I have.

And all you take from the paper is everything you already brought with you.

And the words still mean nothing.

---

January 17, 1998 by Rob Konigsberg