Long lines stretched across the worn floorboards, people huddling against each other for warmth; this tI'me yesterday the snow covered every surface under the Japanese stars, but water washes away everything, but only what you can hold. Most people here, lost something this morning, and lost what was left this lunchtI'me. But I'm the only one who lost nothing. My home never existed, my family haven't known me for a long tI'me, everything i have in my pockets.

Maybe now, people will understand me now. Now thy rely on charity, folding beds and industrial sized soup pots donated by strangers. This room is a home to everyone in here - but until now even i wasn't allowed in. Two disasters that have killed thousands in my country, and caused the grandest of buildings to fall, and a plant to almost bring down the rest of the nation, is what it takes to give one person a home, when all i had is the snow that lined my boots.