the neglected fountain pen

Toronto, 2017.11.29

During the height of the craziness when I was doing my masters degree, my brother gave me a fountain pen. I seem to have set it aside in a pen-holder on my desk ever since. Some three years later, I've picked it up at last.

It had a lot of dried ink inside the nib and whatever you call the part that holds that. I was cleaning it and realized how much ink there really was still in the system. Took it to work to use through the day to use up the re-watered ink and it wrote all day. And it writes wonderfully! I've now picked up some ink cartridges, and have started writing letters. Woohoo!

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rand()m quote

(In which I leave the final word to someone else.)

If I had my life to live over, I'd try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax, I would limber up, I would be crazier than I've been on this trip. I know very few things I'd take seriously any more. I'd certainly be less hygenic... I would take more chances, I would take more trips, I would scale more mountains, I would swim more rivers, and I would watch more sunsets. I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans. I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones. Oh, I've had my moments, and if I had to do it all over again, I'd have many more of them, in fact I'd try not to have anything else, just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of my day. If I had it to do all over again, I'd travel lighter, much lighter than I have. I would start barefoot earlier in the spring, and I'd stay that way later in the fall. And I would ride more merry-go-rounds, and catch more gold rings, and greet more people and pick more flowers and dance more often. If I had it to do all over again - but you see, I don't.

-Jorge Luis Borges