There are few things more satisfying than looking at a paper that was once blank and now seeing a page full of life. Words, weapons, wit, all scattered throughout the lines of a formerly blank canvas. It is simple, it is universal, it is creation. No where else in this world exists that exact combination of thoughts, of ideas. All that it took to create it was a willingness, an unquenchable desire to express. Poem, script, song, novel, journal, love letter, manifesto. Whatever the purpose, whatever the style; when a person fills a page it fulfills an innate, difficult to describe need to create something wholly original and pointedly individual.