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Busan: First Month

Should have done this sooner. There are very little details left to recall by now. So many words to say, so little recollection. She's gone, and now my watch has began. Two more months or vagrancy; barely living, barely breathing.
 
There is fun in even the smallest things, I found, but even then cannot fill the hole left behind by the loss of my first true love. Malice has overcome me; the everlasting demand for justice; equal measures. Now I surround myself with new people, new experiences, but still feeling like a sushi on a stick. How do I begin to rekindle my passion now? Where do I find that which is my destiny and that thing that I truly came here for? Mioseon is gone. She disappeared. Into an abyss of neverending hide-and-seek. I do not want to seem like a creep; my dignity suffers tenfold everytime the thought frolicks by.
 
It is the end of me. What if time with Mioseon Park was the happiest day of my life and all I look forward to now is sickness and purgatory?

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