Hi readers. It has been a year I guess~ i cannot really remember. I don't really know if you stiill remember me, or this story, my existence, or whatever. I don't even know if you will read this letter of mine, or still if you will believe in this crap. I don't really care that much though; I just need to let my feelings that I bottled inside me, or else I may cry, which I usually don't do because I think of it as a sign of weakness on my part (no offense meant to others) but I am just desperate now and I need to let this out.

Writing was my way of expressing my thoughts and feelings. I write decent fics, if they are written in first person POVs (my 3rd person POVs are horrible I know). I am good at placing myself on one's shoes, and so in first person POVs I can feel the character's struggles and sadness. I also write in 3rd person of course though.

Despite changing my writing style, I still haven't got satisfied.

I had this zeal in writing and can write up to 3 chapters per day without even grumbling about the numbness on my fingers after that. It has been like my life. I lived to write. I survived this world because of writing. I met great people through writing, but now...

I'm just a lazy bum stressed out of school, personal matters and issues. Writing was my way of releasing tension and stress, but since I stopped last year, it has been this way. Sitting on the corner and contemplating about life, staring at the ceiling and wa