It is with great sorrow that I lay to rest my Seven Year Pen after only seven months.
Unlike other pen brands I’ve owned, my styling pink Unicorn-Pen by Seltzer Goods was always in sight, a quiet muse on my desk, kitchen counter or the night table beside my bed, just in case an idea sprouted past midnight. We were like best friends and since I thought this pen was the one, I started to include more pink in my wardrobe and paint my nails to match. The pen became a better writer, too. Smooth black ink would move across my pad like an Olympic figure skater. We worked well together and went everywhere, pen in hand. Deep conversations. A dangerous duo.
After showing signs of deterioration last week, her ink finally ran dry Wednesday morning. We were in the midst of Attic, a poem. T was her final letter.
Following the denial and isolation stage of grief: pacing around, looking through the junk drawer for replacement pens and pencil crayons, trying to squeeze more juice from the waterless fruit, I became angry and felt mislead by Seltzer Goods. I wanted to complain to the company, but I also really liked their product. Besides the cool designs, I loved the sustainability aspect. Even though I was spending a few extra dollars, my pen would not go into landfill for seven years! After the funeral, I did some research on the company’s website and found the pen can handle 1.7 metres a day of writing (which I suppose is what the average person writes on paper over seven years), many more words than a single BIC could ever compose. Perhaps I pushed it too far. Perhaps I should have typed notes into my phone or pontificated with my laptop more often. Or, perhaps it’s time to buy a new Seven Year Pen and write like every page could be our last.