Romance with my Pen.

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As my pen writes,new emotions opens up,sometimes sad and sometimes jovial.The ink is like my blood that flows in me,for that is the most precious gem that keeps my mind going.The blank sheet is like my life,in which I decide to write the uncountable chapters of mirth or even cry.I shatter at times and become warrior at times,the words are my home that clings my mind within so deep and intact.The flow of my thoughts flow seamlessly on that paper,as the darkest of my pain reveals in that sheet.It is wonderous to know how that soothes my heart,perhaps my pen says the strongest of my dark shades.

The bliss of my heart flourishes and ravish flawlessly on that paper,the ink bleeds and bleeds.. like the flow of vigorous river.The turmoil at times degrades my solace,yet my pen resonates that impeccably the time I write.My numbness finds it peace as I draft it on that paper like the uncountable stars present in the sky.When I hold thy pen,it kisses my breath and instills me with faith..tells me untold mystic secrets and mollify the unbearable pain,the charm of writing carries me to unsaid period of consolation.

The voice within me muddles my mind and questions my soul so I make romance with my writing to calm me down ..to soothe my bones for the upcoming days shall again whither my heart making it dull and insipid.

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41 thoughts on “Romance with my Pen.

  1. An almost strange concept, referencing pen and ink in this age of smart phones and computers… I can remember far enough back when we used straight pens in school, with an inkwell in the desk, and in winter we had to take the ink bottle home or it would be frozen and often cracked in the morning. And our teachers made us use real goose or turkey feathers also. Then came fountain pens, which often leaked, then the very first ball point pens which were banned in school. In between all that was always the stalwart, stand-by, erasable, HB lead pencil as shown in the first image. Then came typewriters which I learned to use at 16 – they had small portables then which could be carried around in a case. My very first was an Olivetti. But now I only use pens to jot down deadlines, short hand notes or when nothing else is available, to clean under my finger nails… πŸ™‚ My HP ProBook can run 7 hours on a charge, so it goes with me most times and when I really want to write, I can write 3 times faster on a keyboard than with a pen. When ideas are flowing I need to “see” them written very quickly. But perhaps for some writers, the act of writing itself is therapeutic and not just the sharing of information. Romance with my Pen could also be titled “Ode to my Pen.” A good write and pleasant to read.

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    1. I am thrilled to hear the joy you shared during your childhood with the pen.I am sure how wonderful it might have been to use the ink pot or the fountains pen that we all once used.Although through my this post I do not intend only to show my love for the pen..as it’s the ink that soothes me for I am able to write down the emotions that rambles in my soul.I am sure the title”ode to my pen” could have been beatific but my soul emotion lies with the joy of writing.You are correct in saying for some people its therapeutic while for some its much more than that.I personally feel both the sides, you mentioned but sometimes its only the perks of writing down that calms my mind.
      Once again,thank you for sharing your experience as it was a delight to know that.

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  2. Pen and books are as loyal as dogs. They will cheer you up when humans fail. You will feel peace restore when you turn to them. They are the healers and when you are done with jotting down your thoughts and you read them. You feel why the fuck I feel so confused when I have so much clarity inside. For me writing is an outlet, a healer and helps me connect with myself.

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