ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ私の心は星ですㅤ

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in September, the days and night lend themselves to musings about alive and death. the first few weeks of September are full of endings. in the northern hemisphere, the earth, her trees, fields and creatures begin to retreat into dormancy to flourish again in the spring. life continues.

even the minuscule amount that i know cosmology has brought me to a renewed conviction that there is life after death. from a great spark of energy ignited, the ongoing process of creation and creativity produced a mix of photons and particles and quarks that eventually coalesced into supernovas, stars, galaxies, and planets. some of the largest stars eventually exploded, scattering a rich cloud of chemicals that eventually formed the basis of life in the oceans. ㅤㅤ ㅤ
ㅤ “ 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓, 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅
ㅤ𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆. ”

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ˖ ་ 𖦆 ֺ ֙⋆

ㅤ ㅤ“ 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅. ”

i'd already slept under the stars. but not even the most beautiful night sky over the highest mountains could compare with what was about happen.

one night on the 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀, old cottage, old things and stuff. outside the marshlands, dozens of falling stars vanish as they land on the earth. my tiny hands reaches a falling star, my whole body getting warm when the star gains my heart while boosting its own magical power to my fragile heart. i eat the star.
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1 day to witness million stars dance in the night sky and yell gladsomely when that day comes, little virgo's birthday ♡

mini birthday talkie-talk : open ୨୧ prepare your fluffly blanket, cup of tea, cookies & biscuits !! enjoy 🎀♡

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ㅤ 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓ㅤ ㅤ
ㅤ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒔.
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September 1, 1997, marks the beginning of the autumn season in land of The Morning Calm, which follows summer and foreshadows winter; from cold noodles to sweet potatoes, picnic to ice skating rinks, in between this season is autumn. it has two faces that, when contrasted with clear skies and heavy clouds, could imply either fall or rainfall. which would you rather have? we can't make such things happen in lieu of significant changes. however, in 1997, September's first birth, the cloud saturation was what fell rather than the leaves of the trees. this is not solely due to what we all refer to as alteration, as miracles do occur too. fortuitously, i just witnessed one. the miracle i'm pertaining to is saccharine emergence of a little precocious seraph who is innocent of how he can console the world when it sheds a tear and be its home companion. the world was was deeply moved by the young messanger; as for the first poem in his creation, there was someone who truly cared over what she felt.

just so, she expressed her sincere gratitude by pouring down rain; starting from the year, every first of september, it downpours continuously, a manifestation that the world still gets emotional whenever this time of year comes around. the world is reminded of the boy who, in his first ever life; wanted the world to lean on him rather than him leaning on the world. the little young seraphim is truly a wonder to cherish forever. the story of the rain in early September began with his birth.

and despite being a blessing hold in this course of life, he created an exact pastiche of who he is, so as when he bequeathed, people would remember how we, the world, and the rain became the hills and vales along. that's how the arrival of the song “Still With You” came to life and that's how the flow of the story cascades by. at twelve a.m., i was sipping my hot cup of tea whilsy listening to that ever aubade piece. looking out of the foggy window, i noticed raindrops falling frop the roof and drenching the plants. it's raining, it's September 1.
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come for another pleasant sound to listen! wishing everyone have a soothe nite ♡ ㅤ⠀

🔓 Reynald (@v6nte) read the message

(buunie user in long inactive phase.)