it is when the moon strikes somewhere in between the budding tulips and the bolting river that kim jongin feels like stopping in the middle of nowhere. he has been traveling the world (no, this isn’t wanderlust - he insists), hoping to find what he’s looking for. he decided to just sit and wait as he stirs pleasure among the crop circles playing at the back of his mind. hoping that somehow, everything will turn upside down, that what (or who) he has been searching for, will seek for him instead.