Write, even after they stopped reading.
Write when everything doesn’t make sense. Write, even if what you write does not make sense. Write, even if it feels like nothing’s in its right place. Write, as if you let all the burden, the chaos, the drama, the pain, the tension, the anxiety escape through your fingertips.
Cover the blank pages in sheer black letters – capitals, if you have to. Write with force, with so much intensity that you hear the keys clicking soundly against every press you make. Write with passion. Write, as if there’s nothing else to do – not even breathing can stop you.
Write about the stars – every constellation that towers above the Earth’s atmosphere. Write about the literature and the drama of the Greeks. Write about the ferocity of your favourite authors. Write about the chicken chops you wish had more pepper. Write about the Cheetos you were craving for and the fast food chain you cannot live without. Write about the song that touches your heart, no, write about the melody that reaches your innermost core. Write about your own way of worship. Write about how God loves you – about how you love Him.
Write about the good times. Write about the chocolate covered frozen yogurt in Singapore. Write about the time Yellow was played in the radio as you stroll along the highway. Write about the rollercoasters in Disneyland. Write about that shopping spree and haggling in the streets of Hong Kong. Write about finding peace on Malaysia’s highlands. Write about how swimming with the fishes in the Philippines renewed your outlook in life.
Write about the unanswered riddles.
Write in your untouched notebooks.
Write with all your unused pens.
Write on clean canvases.
Because you know you have to.
You know you do.