Pencils.

I’m that stubby one that some douche sharpened at both ends,

Some other douche nibbled little teethmarks all along,

Then some other much douchier douche dropped on the floor, mutliple times.

(So that the lead inside is all in little pieces, and every time you try to sharpen it the little pieces just fall out one by one, over and over).

[Minor sense of glee when those jam up the sharpener].  

Some of us are standard HBs; somewhere in the middle on every scale, the (almost) all-rounders and the obvious go-to for the lazy. Some of us are beautifully soft 5 or 6 Bs – heaven to handle, better for darker shading and heavier marks, easily broken. Some of us are 3 or 4 Hs; made of tougher stuff but only capable of making fainter marks and showing where the lighter places are. Some of us are charcoal pencils, and will above all else make a mess of the hands of those who use us. 

This cat inspires me:
I feel closer to chasing bears up trees than I’ve ever been in my life before.
A lot of love going out to the people who have helped me to feel like this.
~xx~
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About Stephy

50% happy, 50% wildly uncertain. 94.7% bewildered, 78% raving mad, 4.5% awesome, 63% tea/coffee and cake. Wearing odd clothes, favouring odd points of view and Drifting Aimlessly since 1991. View all posts by Stephy

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