Procrastination loves me.

And writer's block too.

I hate to admit that I'll never finish writing a proper, non-one shot story with a proper ending. But looking at the rate I'm progressing right now, I doubt that anyone would even remember that I exist in the realms of fictionpress. Yep. That's the gravity of the situation right now. I have loads of characters and plots which need to be developed, embedded deep inside my head, but they just wouldn't transform into proper words and sentences.

Therefore, From Elysium, With Love is now, sadly on hiatus. Merely because I couldn't stick to writing a single, long story without jumping to other ideas, thus writing another story without completing a proper one.

Worse still, I read back all my previous writings and realized what a bunch of crap they were. Trust me. They weren't good. At all.

In the mean time, just let me rejoice in imagining characters that will never appear on paper, even if they're my greatest mind-inventions yet.

--Back to writing angst-filled poems--