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sigh
the one time i feel like writing a sad poem is when i think about the pan fried soup dumpling place we used to frequent after long days of being silly around nakano or akihabara and we take the train home to ikebu, climb up the stairs from that exit i hate because theres no escalators…. i order for us with my silly otaku japanese two portions of dumplings and maybe a chive pancake if i feel cheeky, then we’d walk home to your 1R apartment, passing by a lot of drunken old men and you would point to the thai place across the street and go oh their pad thai is great (not knowing it would be our next food huperfixation) and then youd fumble your keys all the time and then we get to the 1R apato and eat dumplings together on the floor. i miss that a lot wow
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₊ ⊹⁺˚⋆。°🍂☕✩₊✮₊ ⊹⁺🥧🌰˚⋆。°✩₊✮。˚๋࣭ ⭑。˚๋࣭ ⭑🧡🧇
🍪(◡ ω ◡)🍪によるアート Nekoneko
₊ ⊹⁺˚⋆。°🍂☕✩₊✮₊ ⊹⁺🥧🌰˚⋆。°✩₊✮。˚๋࣭ ⭑。˚๋࣭ ⭑🧡🧇
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