I have a reason to write. (I write because I am a selfish bitch. The world cannot conform to what I want, thus I drag the world into mine.) I have no problems with that.
My problem is that I lost my will to live. (It's already been long gone though. I have just realized how cold and lonely the world is when a perfectly aimed rock hit me.)
So after the Malate Interview and the BusOrga reporting, my self-esteem and illusions of dignity, and intelligence has kaputted to 0%.
Oh hark.
(Yes, this will be short because I care.)
Don't expect any fics in the coming weeks because I will be gathering my wits and my brain (or rather, certain parts of my mind) to write something acceptable.
I'm currently working on my pet project of almost one year... But huhu... Classes is to start on Monday. Oh well. I hope I'll be able to write in school (writing itself is not the problem, it's finding what to write is...)
oh well. see you next year or whenever i decide to update...