My favorite writing pen… is a pencil. A gift from a friend, it was actually meant for drawing but I use it to scribble in the million and three notebooks I own.
Why a pencil, you ask?
Because it allows me the one luxury we all wish life and time would.
It allows me to erase my mistakes; leaving behind nothing but thin, barely visible traces of charcoal on paper. Traces that are loud enough to remind me of the lessons I’ve learned, as well as translucent enough to forget the errors and the everlasting guilt of their making. Thus, enfolding me in a world where I can easily overwrite my words, retrace my steps, and erode all actions until they are nothing but meaningless footprints embed in the leftover ashes of burnt ideas and rotten aims.
The repercussions, hence, are always positive, without lasting damage to me or mine…