INK IN THE PEN
Some say life is kind.
Some say life is hard.
Others say life is sweet.
The truth is, life is all these things—depending on the eyes that see it and the heart that feels it.
Every individual has a different definition of life, a different perspective, a different experience.
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| Ink is Pen |
Life is like an ink pen.
The pen’s case is the body.
The ink within is the blood.
And the one holding the pen—the writer—is the soul.
The writer is the life of the ink. The more the writer uses the pen, the faster the ink runs out. The only way the ink doesn’t fade is if the writer refuses to write. But when the ink flows onto paper, it leaves a mark in the world of words.
When the ink is gone, the pen is discarded. Its usefulness has ended.
So it is with life: the ink is the pen, and the pen is the ink. Without one, the other cannot exist.
We all have an expiry date. No one escapes it. And when that moment comes, it often arrives like a flash.
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| Refuse mental hobo |
The real question is this:
What marks will your ink leave behind?
What legacy will you write with the time you’ve been given?
The seeds you sow will determine the harvest you reap. Refuse to be a mental wanderer. Refuse to be a mental hobo.
Because adulthood, at its core, is responsibility.
Responsibility for yourself.
Responsibility for your words.
Responsibility for your family.
Responsibility for your work, your future, and your legacy.
To be an adult is to accept the pen in your hand and write with purpose.
Your ink will one day run out. But the words you leave behind—the lives you impact—will remain long after the pen is gone.
-Ohiosumuan Ihonde Wilson Jr
