I want to believe that all of us are writers and poets underneath our exterior shells. That this body of ours capable of singing and dancing and doing some unimaginable fit of strength and agility, must also be capable of writing and expressing ourselves eloquently thru written words. I want to believe that there’s no magic formula, or a one-step solution, or a chance coincidence, or a popularity game that makes you an “expert” in the field of writing. That all of us have it, that all of us our writers equally made, and we become an expert only thru perseverance, effort, and surmounting every failures and rejections that comes on our way. And maybe, just maybe, we are made writers with the help of a special magic dust sprinkled just beneath our fingertips, barely visible on our hands, coupled with the collective energy of our tears we had ever shed in this lifetime.