New fountain pen Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Sanjana Kumar

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Silent nights and chaotic lunchtimes. Rain soaked midnight memories and tear stained early morning goodbyes. Veiled disgusts and masked smiles. Reverberating screams and painful voids. Haven't I seen it all, my friend? My ink has touched her gentle fingertips and I've shared her tears and her laughter. Maybe, I can not hold it all ,in anymore. I leave this to you. Scream with your might of the holy sanity in the insanity and reek of the smell from my ink blots. A letter from the thrown away fountain pen to the ball point pen. Lame, I know. //Ink// Day 16. #lastpurchase #apmchallenge #yqbaba #yqt

Silent nights and chaotic lunchtimes. Rain soaked midnight memories and tear stained early morning goodbyes. Veiled disgusts and masked smiles. Reverberating screams and painful voids. Haven't I seen it all, my friend? My ink has touched her gentle fingertips and I've shared her tears and her laughter. Maybe, I can not hold it all ,in anymore. I leave this to you. Scream with your might of the holy sanity in the insanity and reek of the smell from my ink blots. A letter from the thrown away fountain pen to the ball point pen. Lame, I know. //Ink// Day 16. #lastpurchase #apmchallenge #yqbaba #yqt

Haseena Dudekula

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a blue ink fountain pen from my dad. It was the most coveted item I had ever wanted. I watched my dad writing in his diary with his elegant pen and I wanted to do the same. The process of filling the pen with ink with a dropper and not spilling any of it fascinated me to no end. My dad bought a brand new pen when I transitioned from writing with Pencils to Pen in the fifth grade. The way he gave it to me made me realise how carefully I need to cherish it. I couldn't use the eraser any longer so I needed to write very carefully .There were not to be any strike outs. That was my first life lesson to think before penning it down. It was a great step forward in self discipline. For me it was a transition from Pencil to Pen and from childhood to a mini version of adulthood to act responsibly and to be responsible for my very own possession. a blue ink fountain pen from my dad. It was the most coveted item I had ever wanted. I watched my dad writing in his diary with his elegant

a blue ink fountain pen from my dad. It was the most coveted item I had ever wanted. I watched my dad writing in his diary with his elegant pen and I wanted to do the same. The process of filling the pen with ink with a dropper and not spilling any of it fascinated me to no end. My dad bought a brand new pen when I transitioned from writing with Pencils to Pen in the fifth grade. The way he gave it to me made me realise how carefully I need to cherish it. I couldn't use the eraser any longer so I needed to write very carefully .There were not to be any strike outs. That was my first life lesson to think before penning it down. It was a great step forward in self discipline. For me it was a transition from Pencil to Pen and from childhood to a mini version of adulthood to act responsibly and to be responsible for my very own possession. a blue ink fountain pen from my dad. It was the most coveted item I had ever wanted. I watched my dad writing in his diary with his elegant

marmalade ツ

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°°To The Dried Dandelions°° | caption | °°To The Dried Dandelions°° i. I always forget the word, the word that is to be used. Nevertheless, I still remember the verses, at least s

°°To The Dried Dandelions°° | caption | °°To The Dried Dandelions°° i. I always forget the word, the word that is to be used. Nevertheless, I still remember the verses, at least s

marmalade ツ

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~Of Flotsam and Jetsam~ ( caption) ~Of Flotsam and Jetsam~ Fountains dry up, fortresses fell off, foundations shiver yet it's the collection of similar stuff of nostalgia lef

~Of Flotsam and Jetsam~ ( caption) ~Of Flotsam and Jetsam~ Fountains dry up, fortresses fell off, foundations shiver yet it's the collection of similar stuff of nostalgia lef

marmalade ツ

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••To be an incomplete poem•• Tasting dust in small quantities, merrily converting to dust myself. I remain and recline cry and crow, yet not a drop of ink and joy drops on my harsh surface. | Caption| ••To be an incomplete poem•• Tasting dust in small quantities, merrily converting to dust myself. I remain and recline, cry and crow, yet n

••To be an incomplete poem•• Tasting dust in small quantities, merrily converting to dust myself. I remain and recline cry and crow, yet not a drop of ink and joy drops on my harsh surface. | Caption| ••To be an incomplete poem•• Tasting dust in small quantities, merrily converting to dust myself. I remain and recline, cry and crow, yet n

loyalica

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... Slight hint of sun was still breathing in the corner of sky. On white canvas like many variegated colours were splashed―pink, white, yellow.

... Slight hint of sun was still breathing in the corner of sky. On white canvas like many variegated colours were splashed―pink, white, yellow.

Karthi King

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ASCII DNAINOM ©Karthi King #klrahul I received tremendously positive feedback on my last stories, which prompted me to share more experiences. For those of you who are

ASCII DNAINOM ©Karthi King #klrahul I received tremendously positive feedback on my last stories, which prompted me to share more experiences. For those of you who are

Major Mystique

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Felice Oblivion (By Major Mystique) Part 14-Eros (in caption) Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven blossomed the lovely stars, the forgot-me-nots of the angels." Quote by Henry Wadsworth The mathematics class is going on. Sid and Saanya are sitting together. Sid has finally learnt the art of ignorance, ignorance towards the s

Felice Oblivion (By Major Mystique) Part 14-Eros (in caption) Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven blossomed the lovely stars, the forgot-me-nots of the angels." Quote by Henry Wadsworth The mathematics class is going on. Sid and Saanya are sitting together. Sid has finally learnt the art of ignorance, ignorance towards the s

marmalade ツ

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| caption | °°who are you? °° I search behind the curtains, over the library shelf, amidst the stuffed pages of my diary, in the dates of my history no

| caption | °°who are you? °° I search behind the curtains, over the library shelf, amidst the stuffed pages of my diary, in the dates of my history no