If I could, I would carry my gigantic pencil around with me. In a gigantic pencil bag filled with gigantic Sharpies, big, bold colors with that addictive Sharpie scent to be sniffed repeatedly.
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A five year old was holding my big, gigantic pencil the last time I saw it. With a tiny golf scoring pencil in one hand and the gigantic pencil in the other, she smield up at me, offering them in open palms, "Which one would you rather use, Pookie?" Mmmm, she gets it.
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If I could, I would carry my gigantic pencil around with me to remind me of friendship, secrets and generosity. My friend gave it to me with the secret knowledge of me -- the knowledge of me -- that a gigantic pencil is just what I would cherish. My gigantic pencil prompts me to break the barrier into the secret knowledge of my friends, to be generous, giving. My gigantic pencil reminds me to be silly, love life, live in the extreme.
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If I could, I would carry my gigantic pencil around with me to remind me to write with abandon, the lead in a gigantic pencil never ends.
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