Jun 15, 2023
230615 HOSHI Weverse Moment
🐯: It isn't a cover song~😛
*: Hoshi released his self composed song, stay, on this day
🔗: https://weverse.io/seventeen/moment/38259d6084565f008c7ebca19db8f98e/post/1-120580046
seen from Oman
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Jordan
seen from China
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
230615 HOSHI Weverse Moment
🐯: It isn't a cover song~😛
*: Hoshi released his self composed song, stay, on this day
🔗: https://weverse.io/seventeen/moment/38259d6084565f008c7ebca19db8f98e/post/1-120580046
Learn to be a rock and not to roll.
There comes a time again when all your legs are crossed And a whistling voice will tell you what you've lost When the day has come, when all my bells will toll Maybe you'll learn to be a rock and not to roll
Fazia tempo que eu não postava um street art aqui.
A parte mais legal do east end (Brick Lane em particular) é que por mais que você ande por aquelas ruas você nunca vai ver tudo. E, mesmo que conseguisse, na semana seguinte já estaria diferente. Registro pela memória, porque muitas dessas artes não estão mais lá. Mas em breve haverá novas. Que logo vão desaparecer por baixo de outras. A criatividade de multiplica, o espaço é precioso, as coisas que se querem dizer precisam ser ditas. Ali quase nada é tão perfeito que mereça durar para sempre. As ruas do east end são uma ode à efemeridade. And I’m here for it. While it lasts.
June 30
i’m trying for grace. i’m trying to offer up courtesy, careless and bold— without pockets of bitter resentment without holding to wrongs growing old.
June 29
i’m not trying to defy fate but take a colder future and carefully, with dignity ask it to be better.
June 28
It is galling me again the world inflexible, unfixable. sometimes i think i know how things should be. except, and yet. there is no arguing with physics and no arguing with fate and no forcing friends from paths they wish to take.
June 27
there is something impossibly cracked in the way that i proceed. i cannot dream of filling it with gold— it’s not enough to hold myself carefully, contained. i leak without intending. it does not serve me well.
June 26
the storm has come again to make me laugh. what fools we mortals be, to forget this world is ours but never ours alone. the rain’s here too. the winds go downward, dancing.
June 25
how does a song sound lonely? the loon loves other music— when it calls out to the night, it sounds like love to other loons. i left my wings a while ago, and land loves me more than water and all i hear in coo-woo, coo-woo, is sorrow.