I am a pen and recently I’ve had an existencial crisis. Since I was a kid I have always been told my goal was to be used until my ink swallowed up and I died. It sounds so dramatic, anyways for us that’s life. But recently I reconsidered if it’s really worth it. So, I told to myself “then, i will just stay in the pencilcase”. Because of that thought, I went to visit my old grandfather, who has been doing that all his life. What he told me left me completely puzzled, and with a lot of questions about my future. He said: “living without a purpouse, is worth than die having acomplished it”.
ACS