I Have Not Got a Pen

Sometimes, the simplest statements carry the most weight.

“I have not got a pen.” Not “I don’t have a pen,” but the more deliberate, almost poetic phrasing: “I have not got a pen.” It speaks of absence—not just of an object, but perhaps of readiness, of voice, of means to record a thought before it fades.

This page exists because of that sentence. No scripts beyond this modest styling. No distractions. Just words, arranged plainly.

If you came here looking for a pen—you won’t find one. But maybe you’ll find a moment of quiet instead.