We humans, at some point in our lives, get to use a really great pen. In fact, so great we form an attachment to it. 

 

If the attachment is strong enough, my own pet would display jealousy of the love I exude for it. I would like to honestly admit that I have never felt so sure about any pen I have used in my entire life—until I was gifted a fountain pen.

 

Have you ever used a fountain pen? Do you even know what that is? It’s one of those mysteriously invented pens that have the ink just flows, seemingly by magic, through a hidden blade making writing feel like the 8th wonder of the world.

 

It’s so smooth that the more you write with it, the more you want to write with it. It’s not a paradox or dichotomy. It’s just that silky. It’s so smooth, it easily beats a freshly washed and powdered baby’s butt.

 

It seems as though Archangel Michael is perched on top of the pen, sending dancing halos down your rhythmic fingers. As though Beyoncé rolled out a secret album overnight. As though Adele lowered her pitch to sing a few sad words to the miserables, and as though Lucifer applauded all sins of the world with a blink of an eye. 

 

It’s so smooth that your words start to flow more naturally to you. I wish all of your autographs could be signed with a pen like that—so smooth you’d close on the contract before it even begins. So eloquent it makes everything else seem trivial. So powerful that your soul spills out onto the page before you.

 

If you don’t believe me, just start paying attention to the pens you use at your disposal. When you find that attachment, go ahead and keep that pen. It was meant for you to cherish. Just remember to appreciate the tools at your disposal—before someone else jacks them.