I enjoy adding to your blank pages, and scribbling the words my brain conjured up, just to get rid of the white space. You know I can't stand it when you're bare and blank. It's hard for me to look at you when you're this way. So I fill you up. I change you. To make myself feel better.
When I add to you--when I change you--do you know how wonderful that makes me feel? To have my thoughts flow out of my brain, through my pen, and onto your wonderful white skin. It's a beautiful, extravagant progress.
And sometimes I can't help but think you enjoy it too.