An Ode to Notebooks (or it would be if I could rhyme)

To my spiral notebooks and my hardbound journals. From the three-inch binders to the post-it notes. In honor of every note-taking software, be it my phone notepad or Microsoft Word.

Thank you for your pages, your canvases, your open fields of white...or blue...or green...or...y'know what, let's move on.

I know most of my scribbles never become anything more than that. I plot and plan and even though you must know nothing comes of it, you're always eager to listen.

And no matter how long you're left shelved or boxed or unopened, you remember. And most of the time, you don't even smudge the lead.

One of you can always come with me.

I appreciate that I don't always have to be on topic. Or strong. And that you never mind when I try something crazy. Or just doodle.

And sometimes, I swear, you are as much a portal as any hardbound book.

If my stories are my other world, then you are my portals to those places, and I thank you 

for always

being 

open.