<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/3278740191076810010?origin\x3dhttps://hnchagu.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Feel free to read Hagumi Hanamoto diary. Powered by: Blogger + The Waltz Dramatic.
he read me well
Monday, December 25, 2006

A cold and peaceful night brings forth my sorrow. This house that used to be my Grandma's, now as a humble abode for me and my art, is memory on its own. It's where Shuu-chan asked me to run towards the direction I thought would lead me to destiny. It's unusual for this place to make me long for the past with my friends at the Art Institute. Takemoto-kun, Morita-san, Mayama-san, Ayu-chan... where could they be?
"Hagu! Don't forget to brush your teeth. We're eating outside... wait, I just said something weird, didn't I? Anyway, it's just that... that... Mayama called" Mayama-san? I didn't know he'd come back to Japan. "He was surprised to find Morita lying on his futon when he woke up." Mo- Morita-san?
I know Shuu-chan. He'd never make this up. It's like I'm a work of art and Shuu-chan could clearly interpret what I'm telling.
archives