fountain_pens raze the best i ever had bled turquoise and true, and with it i sang hushed hymns to a silent god who would never love_me_back. "disposable," they called it. which is just another way of saying, "here is something precious that will not last." i keep it still, in a tomb for other such spent soldiers, the nib deformed from a failed effort to wring out one last bit of life when the words began to wane. 250519 what's it to you? who go blather from