Once upon a time there were books without faces. Shocking, I know. And in these books, were pages. Tangible, whisper thin pieces of paper called pages. And on these pages were things called words. Beautiful concoctions of letters strung together to create a tapestry of story.
There were no silly little anagrams. No one dreamed of using a smiley face to convey pleasure. The only hashtags were found in opium dens. Emotions were not condensed like soup to arbitrary text limits. Emotions were conveyed in words. Words were collected like precious gems; the more you had, the higher your esteem.
It seems, somewhere along the way, we have forgotten the value in a word. I may blog so that words are not lost. This is my challenge. This is my vow.
Truman Capote once said, "To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the music the words make." Shall we make music together?
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