Dear Ink,
It is sad that I’m writing imperfectly, namely because I’m a perfectionist. Nevertheless, I’m a perfectionist who loves you more than to leave another night of inward prose unwritten. I have squandered 22 years of would-be writings because i lacked the time to write eloquently, so tonight, I will at the same time honor you and dishonor you with less than you deserve: imperfect writing.
– Pen
