Driver impressora sweda st200 usb1/1/2023 ![]() ![]() It’s only been two years since everyone had to rebuild what’s been lost, but it looked only slightly different in Neostone where Tokyo had once been. Weeks passed into months where my body ached from overwork, the same for the people I’ve been surrounded with and worked alongside. Others aren’t so lucky, sleeping behind their food and merchandise stalls or in the nooks and crannies of back alleys. Not a day passes where I’m not grateful for a private place to sleep, do business, and let myself feel at ease. ![]() My space is dingy at best and quite small, but it’s all the comfort I have. The government was eager to take advantage of the situation and make just enough housing to keep people happy and off the streets, but also enough to ensure some people couldn’t get out of the vicious system so labor was cheap. With the scraps of money I had left on my name and picking up little jobs, I was able to get into a micro apartment. A month into the most enjoyable moments of my life came the disaster. During an internship in Japan, I’d gotten a handle of how it was in the real world as part of the workforce. The start of summer into my last year in college was the best time I’ve had in my life. One more year to go, I said to myself as my third year comes to a close. I never felt more myself for the longest time. ![]() For three years, I managed to get stuff done and become my own separate identity. Between jobs and school, I felt like there was a purpose for my movement, for my existence, to be a small gear of a clockwork world. Debt would hit me hard on my head but I was certain to find ways to pay it off without burdening others. ![]() Fresh in college with a mind set on (major(s)/minor(s)), and although uncertain of the future, I was ready to break free from family and understand what it means to live a good life. Though the neons felt like home and they were all I’ve known for the past couple of years, I do remember who I was before this all went downhill. ![]()
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