The Mighty Pen

When I was younger.. well, before I had a child... I would write. Constantly. There was never a time when I didn't have a pen in my hand, behind my ear, stuck in my hair, mashed between my teeth as I tried to sort out the world according to me, the only way I knew how. I was that girl at the cafe, bent over a journal, or a slip of paper, a receipt if need be. I would write at the bar while the bartender poured me shooters of whiskey.. I would write when was too drunk to stand and too messed up to see. (always the best entries, if one could only read them the next day..)

The word on the street is that the pen is mightier than the sword. I couldn't agree more. To me, my pen was my armour, my shield, a force that defined me and made me who I was. I felt validated, I had a purpose, if only to document my thoughts on pages that would never be read by anyone but me.

I have since had a child, and stopped taking the time to write. Life is a busy juggling act of work, home, love, and raising a boy. I have a different definition of myself, and though parenthood has made me fiercer, stronger, and generally a better person, I miss the comfort of recording thoughts.

This is my attempt at reconnecting.

Since life has changed quite drastically over the last few years, I foresee a whole new kind of thought pattern.