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ねね。
Cross Paths/ ewonee
ｺﾒﾝﾄ欄
=Theeonee ./ ewonee
Okey+. / ewonee
#Nowplaying
Cross Paths
音楽の星
20143
S
MAYBE WE CROSSED PATHS FOR A REASON, EVEN IF WE'RE NOT MEANT TO STAY.
(´Д｀)ﾊｧ...
window shopping
9
key
Tears blend, hearts mend, no end, paths bend.
Waves flow, winds know, love grows, light glows.
Bound tight, pure sight, unite, shine bright.
32key
Tears dry, dreams fly, reach high, touch sky.
Winds sing, hope’s near, no fear, paths clear.
One spark, breaks night, pure light, shining bright.
We're All Alone
写真の星357key
Chase light, fight night, heart bright, future’s right.
Storms pass, pains fade, new days, paths made.
Live bold, soul gold, stay true, never cold.
I'll Be Waiting
いろさんぽ ～みどりVer.～
参加
写真の星52key
Hearts bind, souls find, love’s sign, fate’s line.
Through pain, through rain, hope remains, not in vain.
Red thread, words said, paths spread, dreams led.
#ひとりごと
#コチャって何
The Spark (feat. Spree Wilson)
写真の星972key
I feel your name, though winds pass by.
A silent trace, a distant light,
I search the stars through every night.
One day, somehow, our paths align,
Your voice will call, and you’ll be mine
Si Tú la Quieres
夏空に願いを
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空好きの星39 もっとみる 
関連検索ワード
新着
key
I feel your soul somewhere inside.
Like light that blooms in silent skies,
your heart will meet where hope lies.
Maybe our paths will softly start,
a gentle spark, from heart to heart.
#ひとりごと
I Never Knew (feat. Cooly's Hot Box) [Roger's Radio Mix]
𝙽𝙾 𝚂𝙺𝚈, 𝙽𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.
参加
空好きの星575
jun😈💜
😈 😈
i drift into the night…
past midnight, where the world exhales
and time itself forgets to tick…
ぜ~ったい夜ぅ 深夜半過ぎが好きっ
世界中が… 時間が…
全て止まったようになる
the air hums soft and low
carrying the scent of somewhere far
the bugs sing gentle lullabies
and a cat’s meow curls through the dark
making me smile… quietly…
深夜の空気感が好き
外気の独特の香りが好き
虫の鳴き声が好き
猫の鳴き声だってクスッてなる
daytime chaos fades away
and a whisper of morning slips in
but these hours… these stolen hours…
are mine alone
全ての昼の喧騒から解き放たれ
朝の清々しい空気が流れ込んでくる
それまでの限られた自分だけの時間
i think of faces i’ve crossed paths with tears in the quiet of my chest
i tilt my glass… letting memories spill
like starlight on still water
nitght is fav the most
これまでに出会った人たちを
想い出しながら…
心の中で涙しながら…
静かにグラス傾ける
夜の時間が好き
#English #英語
37103
なな
For the one I loved but could not hold
You messaged me all day long—
when I was weak,
held by pain and silence.
I didn’t know then
the child you cared for,
the life you carried elsewhere,
while words poured like rain
into my quiet room.
Promises to meet—
again and again—
but always dissolved
by the same old storm.
You chose shadowed corners,
I wished for light—
a café, laughter,
just your face beside mine.
We both grew tired—
you, me—
battered by hopes
that twisted and tore
like the endless night
that swallowed my love
into its endless dark.
I gave and gave,
even when love
felt lost in the echo,
our paths parallel—
never meeting,
never true.
Did you carry me
in the corners of your heart?
Did my love reach you
when silence filled the spaces?
Or was I just
a whisper fading,
a ghost you couldn’t hold?
Now I stand here—
not asking,
not chasing—
only feeling the quiet
where your voice once lived,
and the love that remains
even when the night is cold.
9なな
A journey across lands, within a heart.
I set off on a quiet journey, alone.
A soul in search—
for something unseen,
something lost within.
In Japan,
the soft chorus of autumn insects
followed the footsteps
of evening walks with my dog.
The air was clear,
crisp as glass,
and the rice fields whispered—
leaves rustling like distant waves,
waiting patiently
for harvest time to come.
Golden stalks, heavy with life,
bowed low,
as if listening
for the right moment to be released.
In the Philippines,
the sea shimmered in endless blue.
From Cebu to Malapascua,
then El Nido—
I chased the edge of the horizon.
I dove beneath the surface,
hoping the depths might answer me.
But what I was searching for
remained quiet,
somewhere beyond coral and salt.
Kalanggaman—
an uninhabited island
shaped like a kiss
between two drifting shores.
I whispered to the wind,
“One day,
I want to camp here with you.”
In Thailand,
on Khaosan Road,
I followed the map scribbled
in Lonely Planet’s margins.
Pad Thai sizzled,
foreign voices filled the air—
it hardly felt like Asia at all.
Or perhaps,
a Western village
planted in Southeast soil.
Like a scene from The Beach,
neon and nostalgia intertwined.
From Bangkok’s alleys,
I drifted south
toward Phuket’s waiting coast.
In Vietnam,
ao dai whispered through humid air,
pho steamed in quiet bowls,
and sudden rain
washed away even the noise.
I quarreled with a motorbike driver,
then laughed,
alone on a borrowed scooter
chasing the perfect bánh mì
through night markets
alive with spice and neon.
From Da Nang to Hoi An,
the road curled like smoke—
and the noodles I ate alone
tasted like courage.
In Bali,
the night chanted with fire.
Kecak dancers circled flame,
and I lay beneath a net,
dreaming in whispers.
I met my mother,
shared mint cucumber water,
and let time soften
what silence could not.
Spa hands pressed memory into skin.
Coconut paths led to Ubud,
where an amaryllis bloomed
quietly in a rice terrace—
as if it, too,
had been waiting.
In the Maldives,
spices clung to the air—
saffron, cumin, memory.
I wandered the morning market,
and in the mosque’s quiet breath,
wrapped myself in stillness
and modesty.
Malé felt too small
for the loneliness I carried.
Even land seemed to shrink
beneath the weight in my chest.
On Maafushi,
romance shimmered
just out of reach.
Stingrays in the shallows
played near my feet—
but the rendezvous
never reached my soul.
In Istanbul,
gulls cried over the Bosphorus,
and the wind tasted like salt and scripture.
At Hagia Sophia,
bells echoed in my ribs,
and a cup of tea
warmed something
colder than skin.
The bazaar twisted like a dream,
each alley a whisper
of spice and silk.
I felt both lost and found,
held in the hum of ancient prayers.
In Paris,
light fell gently
on bowls of pho
and broken mornings.
A stranger—madame—
offered me kindness.
When she said au revoir,
my eyes betrayed me.
Her kiss on my cheek
was the kind of goodbye
that aches for a lifetime.
At Sacré-Cœur,
I surrendered
to a grief I hadn’t named—
let it spill like stained glass
onto the quiet hill.
In Italy,
a single rose bloomed
on the table beside my risotto.
I watched pizza spin
in the hands of artisans
who touched the dough
like a living thing.
Warm laughter filled the streets—
a kindness without question.
In Spain,
tapas flickered beneath golden lights.
Gaudí’s stones reached for the sky,
and I coughed quietly
into thyme tea
as the sun dipped behind
Barcelona’s silhouette.
In Hungary,
steam curled from bathhouse tiles,
and friendship stirred
like the first warmth
after a long frost.
But fever came.
And so did silence.
I lay still in a guesthouse bed,
feeling eyes that saw me
as something other.
Even kindness
had a border that day.
In Morocco and Jordan,
I followed the scent of saffron
through souks that twisted like vines.
Tajine reminded me of home.
The kindness of strangers,
rooted in the Qur’an,
wrapped around me like linen.
In mountain towns dyed blue,
I shrank into myself—
then slowly breathed again
in the calm of dry air
and starlit nights.
What I searched for—
I never found.
Not in the oceans,
not in the prayers,
not in the heat or the hunger.
But in every step,
something remained.
The scent of mint and sea,
the rhythm of unknown tongues,
the silence after parting—
they live inside me now.
I returned
with nothing in my hands,
but everything
in my heart.
What was missing
was never meant
to be found—
It was meant
to be felt.
And now,
it blooms quietly
inside me—
like a flower
no one else sees.
3なな
Milky Way
A woman met a man.
He was always busy —
work,
and the quiet gravity of raising a child,
especially on weekends.
In the soft tangle of their lives,
she stood at a distance,
watching him
like someone studying the moon
without knowing its language.
But he was kind,
gently consistent.
He opened doors without asking.
Listened with his eyes.
Never rushed.
She wanted to understand
the world behind his silences —
so she scattered herself across
the pages of the books he loved,
tracing underlined sentences,
searching for fingerprints
in borrowed thoughts.
And quietly,
without permission,
she fell.
They built soft mornings —
half-spoken smiles,
the clink of cups,
laughter tucked into pillow folds,
light warming the floor
where no words were needed.
But he carried
carefully folded wounds:
a divorce,
a quiet betrayal,
sorrow pressed deep
beneath a practiced smile.
Time passed
as it always does,
and small things
grew teeth.
They argued,
not to win,
but to be seen.
To hold their truths
in the same room
without flinching.
But they were not ready.
Still learning
how to keep love safe
from the weight of their histories.
So they stepped back.
Gently.
With trembling hands
that had once held each other
without fear.
They don’t speak of it now.
But she keeps the book
with his notes in the margin
of page ninety-four.
And he still,
on certain quiet evenings,
pauses
as if listening for a voice
that once knew his name
better than he did.
Their paths parted —
but not their light.
That love,
soft and ancient,
still spills across their skies —
not fading,
but scattering
like the Milky Way:
separate,
but forever
part of the same night.
3
Lumonen
Will we all feel something else?
Sentiments are around it.
Up to nearest words on every page.
We are born with a knowledge.
Mines so different to everyone else.
And when our paths cross I worry.
I like to be so far away from here.
4
kyo
Yo, if you weren’t here, I’d never call this hell
Didn’t know this pain ‘til you rang that bell
What you gonna do now? You stand there and yell
Droppin’ that fire, but you burn me as well
Back then I was blind, in the black, sittin’ still
Didn’t even move, thought that life was the pill
If I stayed in the dark, I’d never feel this kill
No regrets, no void, numb heart, iron will
If you weren’t here, I’d never know it’s so cold
You showed me a truth that cut straight to the soul
Your way of living put me deep in a hole
Like a well with no bottom, no ladder, no rope
Since birth I been livin’ in a shade that’s black
Didn’t know it was pain, didn’t know what I lacked
Of course, man, born in the dark, walkin’ dark paths
Never seen light so I never even asked
Could’ve stayed blind, call it fate, let it slide
Everything surrendered, nothing left to fight
But you broke that blindfold, turned on the nightlight
Now I see the scars and it cuts from inside
If you weren’t here, I’d never know it’s so cold
You showed me a truth that cut straight to the soul
Your way of living put me deep in a hole
Like a well with no bottom, no ladder, no rope
Yeah, if you weren’t here, maybe I’d never think this way
Even if it’s a crazy dream, even if it’s just decay
Without you, I’d be a ghost, just driftin’ away
Without you, I’d be a corpse with no reason to stay
3 もっとみる
おすすめのクリエーター
ねね。
先進国はｱﾚﾙｷﾞｰ体質の人が多い、ｱﾚﾙｹﾞﾝを沢山持つ人が多い、
ｱﾅﾌｨﾗｷｼｰを起こしやすい。
その中のひとりが私です。
・独り暮らし。
・主食がｵｰﾄﾐｰﾙ。
・ｸﾞﾙﾃﾝﾌﾘｰな完全自炊生活。
・多肉植物がすき。
・元看護師。等々…
人と話さない毎日なので話し方忘れそう。
独りが好きだけど、
独りが淋しい。
でもあまりに人と長く居過ぎると疲れたりする。
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なな
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1103
闇堕ちめろち
ティラノサウルス飼いたい🦖
01 🇯🇵×🇬🇧 いぇい⤴︎いぇい⤵︎ ✌️
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jun😈💜
🔯別館の旧4番館主🔯
Hi, sweet seein’ y’all around! Straight outta Osaka, Japan. Wish we vibe again for sure!
Hit me up anytime—in English or Japanese, whatever works!
やほっ😈
日本の大阪からだよ🫧英語でも日本語でもいいよ〜
Jul 7, 2025
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key
I’m quietly leaving traces of my days here.
If my pictures can remind someone
of the beauty already living within,
that alone is enough.
日々の足跡を、残しています。
僕の写真が、誰かの内側にある美しさを思い出すきっかけになれば、それだけで十分です。
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