You Can’t Force Art


You can’t force art.

That statement has long been in my mind since I skipped blogging for a month, I just can’t seem to bring the words straight out. Since then, I have published three posts which imply that very thought. And two of them share a connection surprising enough for me to write about it.

October last year, I wrote “the pen ran out of ink,” sharing how I kept writing but stopped publishing for a while, the reason being I barely get to finish a piece I could proudly put out, and claiming that my ink needs to stop bleeding from time to time, just like my heart. February of this year, “Inks and Pain” came out, and in it I talked about struggling to produce bittersweet or sad stories because my heart stopped bleeding at once—almost as if it’s feeling no more—driving me to ask for pain when it rains, so my ink could bleed again.

It’s not just because of the ink that the connection was made (I just really like that word) but more so with the contrast of emotion from both posts which affected its bleeding. The abundant feelings of last year obstructed me to write but the emptiness of today doesn’t make it any different. Even this post took me a while to make!

Now I rarely write down ideas on tissue papers and receipts or on anything I could take a hold of, my Notes don’t receive sudden thoughts I could turn into poetry, I am lost for words and my mind is probably still on vacation.

You can’t force art, but you can force yourself not to think too much about it and try out other things and just live. And maybe then, art will introduce itself again.


pieces of ourselves


Empty, that’s being nothing, feeling nothing. 

Reading the quote above though makes me wanna believe that the emptiness we feel from time to time doesn’t go to waste. If we leave traces of ourselves in everything we love, then feeling empty is worth it. But that’s not to say that being empty is okay. For if we really leave traces of ourselves to those we love, then we also get traces from those that love us.

And if that’s the case, which I’d like to believe it is, then no one will ever be empty for a long time. We just need to learn how to accept the pieces from the others, and how to give our pieces only to those who deserve them. 

This is in response to the blog event Writer’s Quote Wednesday and Daily Post’s prompt Empty