So, as you SHOULD know (if you don't, then you really need to find out), I posted the first chapter of a story called "Keeping You," a Dramione fanfic.

It has been DISCONTINUED.

Yes, I know you are crying, but too bad.

It just wasn't working for me. I tried to write it, but couldn't get past the third chapter, and the second was chunky and didn't made sense. I literally felt like complete shit trying to write it, and now I just feel like it was a complete waste of time.

Stop crying, you're making me feel even more like shit.

Screw it, I'm done with the long term stories for a while. Sorry. Occasional one-shots will go up (mostly Hetalia and Harry Potter).

Keep coming back for more of MY AWESOMENESS.

XD

That's right. I went there.

I.
 
Am.
 
So.
 
Bored.
 
GAAAAHHHH.
 
Yeah, that’s happened to you before. The rambling piece. The dreaded demotion that brings you from sky-high to a deep, black funk.
 
Because you are so bored and cannot think of a single thing to do.
 
Except ramble.
 
And you mom tells you to get off your ass, go outside, read, do something other than sit around on your computer all day, sadly playing video games and sobbing over you latest celebrity crush and no, Harry Potter will never exist but I will not stop trying to summon my Firebolt!
 
But you refuse, because you know if you go outside, you will forget what you were going to do and end up going back inside, bewildered and confused as to what exactly you were doing in the first place.
 
That has what is happening to me, lately.
 
So tell me, whatcha do when you’re bored beyond all measure?
 
Do you play more video games?
 
Eat more terrible junk food?
 
Call your mom and say that you want a new MacBook even though she’s only one floor up?
 
No?
 
Don’t lie to me.
 
Talk to you later, peace!

This has been sitting on my old PC for a long time. Thought I'd dig it up and give it to you. Please note that this is fiction, but it's my interpretation of feeling helpless. I've known it before.

Guess where my username came from?

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You wait, and know that no matter how many times you do it, the pain won’t leave.
 
You wonder, and ask yourself why you chose this.
 
You roll back your sleeves and cut.
 
 
 
It isn’t easy, you know. And believe me, I try.
 
I’ve tried for my family, for my people that used to be my friends.
 
I tried for the people on the billboards, so they could lead their perfect lives.
 
I’ve tried for the dying, the ones who are lying in the dirt or in hospitals.
 
But, unfortunately, none of them had been enough.
 
My sorrow could topple the world.
 
Forgive me for being selfish. It’s not often someone listens.
 
And when they do, they look at me in pity.
 
But they don’t understand.
 
I don’t want their pity, but they give it to me anyway.
 
Maybe it would be easier if I didn’t take anything. Just gave.
 
But then, where would I be?
 
In the ground.
 
Lying in a box.
 
Stone cold dead.
 
Just.
 
Like.
 
You.

The Harry Potter series (gradually). Duh.