If humans are able to enjoy a life, shouldn’t material things also be able to enjoy their time on earth? Almost everything has a function or use in the world, how do those things feel about their own purpose?
Pencils write, that is the only thing we can really use them for. They make contact with paper for seconds or for hours but we are thankful for them nonetheless. A pencil does not realize that by being used, it is diminishing in size or ability. Though it cannot understand this, it is still aware that it cannot be forever. It only knows that it is creating something and that whatever it creates will either be erased or handed in to be graded.
Pencils understand that they are powerful. They give someone the ability to express themselves and they take part in an education. Though the pencil is aware of its necessary place in the world, it is also humble. The pencil does not boast of superiority nor does it express a need for lavish things. A pencil truly feels at home in the hands of the writer, when it can accomplish its mission and earn pride knowing that it is being useful.
The pencil cannot actually feel or really express itself, yet it is always content. Pencils write and that it is all they can understand about their purpose.