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Today I studied various forms of adjective in English.
I can understand sentences that use forms of adjective, but writing sentences is difficult[びっくり]
I used Copilot to check my sentences[笑う]
英語学習
9
なるみ
27
ᕙ(⇀‸↼
294
めいち
10
じゃがほく
Do you prefer "clarity" or "ambiguousness" in sentences?
3ヒックン
Today I studied ten pages of English comparison sentences for two hours.
英語学習7
わたし 元あぶ
So, I'm sure I'm mean at heart.
4
はしれはちみつ
12 もっとみる 
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nico🍎🍺⛺️
Making English sentences are still difficult for me but I will keep trying!
I'd like to become a woman who is confident in herself but I'm not like that yet.
なんかこう英語を勉強することでちょっとした自信持ちたいなと
英語学習326
闇バイトダメ・創作家
Justice—where is it? In a world where “if you don’t get caught, you’re not punished” has become reality, I feel a deep sense of anger and unease. People deceive, destroy lives, even take lives, and if they slip through the cracks of law enforcement, they walk free. In one country, individuals enter on tourist visas, disappear into hidden compounds, commit fraud for months or years, and return home as if nothing happened. If they aren’t caught, they repeat the cycle. Will they continue scamming until death? Do they feel no remorse, even as they age? These questions terrify me. People have died. Families have been shattered. Yet the local government fails to act decisively, and criminal networks thrive. Economic aid flows in, but with it comes silence and complicity. Is it just me who sees this aid as a mask for enabling crime? Some say, “Anyone who goes there is asking for it.” But that blames the victim and excuses the perpetrator. Victims had dreams. They were trying to survive. Their trust was betrayed—not just by the scammers, but by the systems that failed to protect them. Fraudsters are often trapped in their own networks, exploited while exploiting others. Escape means violence, confiscated passports, confinement. They lose their humanity. And this structure is upheld by weak enforcement, legal loopholes, and global indifference. What is justice? What is law? Is a crime not a crime if it’s never exposed? I refuse to accept that. A crime remains a crime. A society where lives are destroyed without consequence is a society without justice. It’s a place where the vulnerable are silenced. I won’t ignore this reality. If anger can become words, maybe those words can protect someone. That’s why I speak. Justice begins when someone dares to speak. We must not look away. The moment we say “it’s not my problem,” justice dies. Even if it happens far away, it’s part of our world. Fraud doesn’t just steal money. It steals trust, dignity, and futures. And the idea that “if you don’t get caught, you’re safe” threatens the foundation of society. Victims didn’t just lose money—they lost faith in people, in systems, in hope. That pain is invisible. That pain is silent. So I want to give it voice. That’s the first step toward justice. The end for scammers is rarely glamorous. They live in fear, isolation, and distrust. Yet they continue, because society lets them. If they aren’t punished, why stop? Unless we change that structure, victims will keep multiplying. I want to believe in justice. Maybe that’s naïve. But if no one believes, justice doesn’t exist. If no one speaks, justice doesn’t move. So I turn anger into language, sorrow into sentences, questions into challenges, and hope into proposals. Justice isn’t distant—it lives within each of us. In our courage to speak, our refusal to look away, our willingness to care. That’s where justice begins. I believe in words. I believe words can change the world. So I write. To reach someone. To make sure no life is trampled again.
2
白キクラゲ
今度は熟語の壁に悩まされてる、、
一難去ってまた一難、、
Just when I thought I had memorized a good number of English compositions/sentences, now I'm struggling with the hurdle of idioms/phrasal verbs... It's one trouble after another...
1じゃがほく
My brain spat these out abruptly.
15
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 もっとみる
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わたし 元あぶ
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はしれはちみつ
今日も俺です。
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じゃがほく
色々、諸々、メモとか。独り言。
変なつぶやき多い。
↑これを壁打ちというのか？
このGravityを主に頭の中の整理机として使っている。
I ponder various things all the time.
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白キクラゲ
掃き溜め 返信気まぐれ DMはほぼ埋もれ
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ここは拠り所なので正論よりやさしい言葉が嬉しいです
資格いらない派、言いたいことを言わないと気がすまない派の方はコメントお控えください
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