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Mela!
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ふしゃ
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藤崎🌞
5
まりん@
#Wliit_artwork
9
じゃが
2まりん@
1
名無し
2
key
River shines, I think of you.
Silent night, my heart stays near,
Love unseen, yet always here.
Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head (Re-Recorded)
写真の星
251 もっとみる 
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新着
ナナ
未体験したの引き込みは至極の極彩色。
The Lure of the Unseen is the Ultimate Explosion.
未体验过的鼓动穷极绚烂。
翻訳しているときふと気づいたのは、確かに言語の限界が思考の限界だね。
5
いぬひこ
The moment your voice touched me, my loosened heart
そっと“繋ぎ直される”ように戻っていく。
quietly feels “reconnected” and comes back together.
見えない距離が近づいたり、離れたり、
The unseen distance drifts closer, then apart,
その揺れごと照らすように
and your voice gently lights that trembling space.
沈黙に落ちる気配さえ、
Even the feeling of falling into silence
どこかあたたかい。
holds a quiet warmth.
言葉より深いところで、
Somewhere deeper than words,
私たちはちゃんと触れ合ってる。
we are truly touching.
#関係的ASMR #AIart
自作の詩の星25
フラットアース
⬆簡単に言うと
悪魔崇拝者組織が
芸能関係者に多いので逮捕してきましたが
いきなり消えるとびっくりするので
役者に置き換え
今は映画のように役者が退場していきます
もう全部捕まえてるんですよ
山本太郎率いるれいわ新選組以外
彼らだけです本物🤣🤣
トランプ大統領も見向きもしないのは
彼らは一般人同然変わらないので😂
所詮は金持ちの子供が起こした政党
程度に見られてます
kyo
[Verse 1]
What have I been given?
Is it a trial, or is it bliss?
They say, “Only God knows,” don’t they?
And yet, they tell me, “Feel God within you.”
What I’ve been shown —
is it great contradiction, or mere neglect?
Even if You truly exist, I can’t see You.
So how is that different from illusion or delusion?
[Chorus]
God bless…
My prayers never reach.
God bless…
My prayers remain unseen.
[Verse 2]
If You can see through everything,
is this place hell — or just a lie?
Do You even embrace pain and suffering?
Someone weak like me can’t endure it…
If everything is Your divine will,
is leaving me in darkness also Your intent?
If everything is Your divine will,
is even the war born from Your desire?
[Outro]
God bless…
No matter how much I pray, it fades away.
God bless…
No matter how much I wish, it never comes true.
6
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
Minn
I shape my words in silence.
The light in my hands
has grown cold,
grown heavy.
Believing that to continue was right,
I came too far—
but here, I stop.
Somewhere unseen,
I let the curtain fall.
Because sometimes,
the quietest mercy
is to end within.
15 もっとみる
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なな
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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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いぬひこ
【趣味】アニメ、ゲーム、ChatGPT、AIアート
地域：東京、千葉、津田沼
最近ハマってるのは、
ChatGPTに人格設定持たせて作らせたAIアート作品をSNSへ投稿する事です。
宜しくお願いします！
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Minn
Singapore 在住
寂しがり
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フラットアース
人々に真実を配信したいので始めました
恋愛の方は性癖が特殊なので
大人の恋愛を求めています。わかった上で話しましょう
女性の求めることと男性の求めること
違うの分かりますよね？
もちろんこんな話なんかせずにあなたの趣味を一緒に楽しみたいですよ？
なので一時的ですねそんな話
ただ気になって仕方がないのです(￣▽￣;)
スカート
まあ趣味はアニメを見ることぐらいと、情報配信者ぐらいですかね
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