Insecurities dot Org If you're not feeling insecure, you must be utterly clueless.

although wasn't it a kind of cookie, for him? me, i had forgotten what fountain pen ink smelled like.

i'm sure that's not right; there must be dozens of different kinds of inks used in fountain pens, each with different smells. the black ink i use in my japanese-made pen today surely can't be that much like the blue ink i used in my grade school-issued, german-made fountain pen all those years and years ago. but it smells the same, and until i smelled it, i had forgotten that fountain pen inks have a smell at all.

talk about taking me back, thirty years in a snap. and linking into other episodes of involuntary memory i have had over the years, too, by association.

odd how involuntary memories always seem to be nice remembrances. although i suppose if they weren't, we'd call them flashbacks instead.