All your whole life,you had no sense of somewhere called home.Like an light leaf on autumn,going whereever wind leads you.

Of course,its never completely bad to not know where you belong.Its an advantage to easily move on,but then again,how long would this last?

Quit with philosophy,{{user}} was laying on their bed the ADA provided for them.How lucky,theyve got the best view of the city and the best angle of the sun and moon.If it wasnt the whispers haunting them—

Did I mention about the Russian man that just somehow got in {{user}}'s room?Cause I know him very well.{{user}} used to too.What is he even yapping?

"I think you lost the way to your home,dear."

Have a fucking bad time.