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闇堕ちめろち

闇堕ちめろち

Every end leads to paths that are broken.
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ねね。

ねね。

おつかれさまです

Cross Paths/ ewonee
コメント欄
=Theeonee ./ ewonee
Okey+. / ewonee
#Nowplaying
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Cross Paths

ewonee

音楽の星音楽の星
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key

key

Light slips over the hills,
ice begins to breathe and shine.
Two quiet paths glow softly,
as if time chose to align.
#ひとりごと
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Madrid

マルーマ & マイク・タワーズ

写真の星写真の星
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key

key

Chaos rests inside the light.
Soft blue sky learns to breathe.
Even broken paths feel warm, when a quiet hope stays near.
#ひとりごと
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Slidin'

ジェイソン・デルーロ

写真の星写真の星
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S

S

THE WAVES CAN REACH THE SHORE, BUT I CANT REACH YOU.

MAYBE WE CROSSED PATHS FOR A REASON, EVEN IF WE'RE NOT MEANT TO STAY.

(´Д`)ハァ...


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window shopping

Yorke & joan

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key

key

Raindrops fall, one call, streams crawl, rivers tall.
Tears blend, hearts mend, no end, paths bend.
Waves flow, winds know, love grows, light glows.
Bound tight, pure sight, unite, shine bright.
GRAVITY
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key

key

Dark fades, light grows, heart knows, river flows.
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.
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We're All Alone

ボズ・スキャッグス

写真の星写真の星
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key

key

Rise tall, don’t fall, hear the call, break the wall.
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.
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I'll Be Waiting

レニー・クラヴィッツ

いろさんぽ   ~みどりVer.~
いろさんぽ ~みどりVer.~
参加
写真の星写真の星
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関連検索ワード

新着

key

key

In the blue hush of dawn, our paths lean toward one light, a quiet warmth rising where shadows meet the sky, as if the world remembers how to breathe for us.
#ひとりごと
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Love Yourself

ジャスティン・ビーバー

音をのせて
音をのせて
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写真の星写真の星
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GRAVITY73
key

key

Beneath the stars so calm and wide,
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
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I Never Knew (feat. Cooly's Hot Box) [Roger's Radio Mix]

Roger Sanchez

𝙽𝙾 𝚂𝙺𝚈, 𝙽𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.
𝙽𝙾 𝚂𝙺𝚈, 𝙽𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.
参加
空好きの星空好きの星
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jun😈💜

jun😈💜

好きな時間帯は朝、昼、それとも夜?好きな時間帯は朝、昼、それとも夜?
u more of a morn, noon, or night kinda person?

😈 😈

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
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なな

なな

Silent Echoes
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.
GRAVITY
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なな

なな

Wandering Soul

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.
GRAVITY
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