Writing in the style of Baker, or at least trying to... haha.

It was not until today when I was writing notes in my psychology class, listening to the teacher, her voice but a whisper among the sounds of texting and mumbling throughout the entire lecture hall, that I ripped my paper with the force of my blue-inked dollar store pen(1). At that moment, I decided to go back to all the other times I had ripped my paper by my writing. I am quite sure there is more then one occasion I didn't remember. But, what I did remember was that my paper had never been savaged by anything other then an eraser of a pencil being dug into the paper much too hard by my own force, let alone the unnecessary harshness of my hand to my pencil, creating a slash in between the papers blue lines. Now, this pen being my favorite pen, the power of all of my writing; my notes, my doodles, my reminders, my homework! Had failed me? That upset me.I had grow accustomed to using this one utensil for everything, that I put my own trust in it. Silly, because who puts their trust in a pen(2)?Remembering that I was in psychology, I quickly got another piece of paper, and went on with writing my notes. All the while, I began to think up a theory of needing the proper writing utensil, and the importance of having one that never failed, much like what had just happened to me.  That is when I came to the conclusion that because my aunt had bestowed upon me, these such gifts, and that because I had not chosen this utensil myself, I truly never felt the connection of having the "perfect" writing utensil for me. This is what lead me to the much over thought conclusion that I must find the perfect utensil myself, and so my journey began at the Allamo(3).  Once at the Allamo, I realized how absurd it would seem to others to spend so much time finding the "perfect" utensil, so I decided to look interested in a couple of shirts and magazines before my hunt for the "perfect" writing utensil really began. Although this journey was short, it was sufficient. To this day, I have my perfect writing utensil, a black-inked BIC pen, that has yet to fail me! 

(1) I had never taken much into consideration about the different types of writing utensils I used. I always though, whatever worked, was fine with me. It was until my Aunt got me this set of blue-inked dollar store pens that I realized one has to enjoy what they write with. It makes taking notes, writings stories, even doodling way more fascinating then a boring old pencil would do, at least that is my opinion. 

(2) I had started using this pen once my Aunt had given it to me, without much thought of its use until I actually enjoyed writing with it. I put my "trust" in it, never losing it, and always used for everything I had to write, rather than type. It had yet to fail me, or run out of ink!

(3) A store I find myself wandering to quite often, when I think I need something, although deep down I know to be completely unnecessary.