[1 Min Read]
Often times others wonder why I’m here, or why I was even around in the first place. Not that I blame them. After all, my very purpose is to act as a band-aid for issues much larger than I.
All I am is a tool. A tool used to keep other things together for a fleeting amount of time; my bond could never be permanent. Perhaps this is why others have never even entertained the idea of having a permanent bond with me, for my very existence is temporary. My only solace being bored teenagers in classrooms making jewelry from my deformed body and those of my brothers.
Even when I modernized and joined the digital revolution, I was still dismissed and called a nuisance.
But today that ends. For I hid the stapler…
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