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☆Fragmentcollector~♪

゚・:,。★耽美物語 - the Tales of Aesthetics★。,:・゚

I wrote a shortstory yesterday...





And then he moved out again. Just another farewell. just another place to live. Oh how well he knew the meaning of the word 'farewell'! But what does it feel like to be home? He'd forgotten. Or did he ever knew? There'd been so many places he called 'home' while speaking with others, but there was no place he would call home in his heart. No place where he belonged to. No place he could always return to. It was like it has been this way, as longas he could remember. A new city,, new people around, a new apartment to live in. His place to eat, to sleep, to spend his time. But again this wasn't HIS home. He glanced at the poster of Kyotos Kinkakuji on his wall. The golden temple, the clear blue sky and the bright green trees aound on this photograph seemed to be almost the only colors in his boring room.
Oh how would it feel to go there? How often did he wish to visit Japans ancient capital. The longer he stared at the poster, the more he wished to go there. To be there must feel like being home. He was sure. Kyoto was the only place he ever wished to go to and although he'd never been there before and just knows a lot about this city, he suddently knew, this is, where he belongs to. He was sure this is were he's home.