I think a lot more.
I read a lot more. I scroll blogs for hours. I highlight words while I read. I note them down. I try to go through them again.
I write a lot more. I ask myself why shall I not write on a Sunday. The world goes on. So I go on describing it.
I broke up with redundant words. I perfect the Whatsapp messages and the emails I send. My scrutinizing eyes don’t even spare the responses of my friends.
When I wake up, I think about writing instead of thinking about going to the toilet. I am burdened by guilt the day I don’t write. The day I write well, I feel liberated.