S'mogaπ» bahagiaπ bersamaπ dirinyaπ― kar'naπ€³ kauπ«΅ telahπ memilihπ diaπ’
π€3π±2π2π₯1π’1π1πΎ1
Nona ππ»ββοΈ nantiβ‘lincaβ‘lincaβ‘lincaβ‘
Maca Papuaπ΄ garasπ₯tanaπ
Danβ‘οΈkeβ‘οΈkananβ‘οΈ
Nonaπsi goyangπpicaβ¨picaβ¨
Nonaπ―ββοΈnantiβ‘lincaβ‘lincaβ‘lincaβ‘
Pakπ¨βπΌmenejerπ pakπ¨βπΌmenejerπ bisa?
β2β€2π2β‘1π€―1π1
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π5π³3β€2β‘2π2π₯1π€―1π±1π1
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slmt fagi dari wakeonez calsit
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π₯°3
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Forwarded from The Eldraeth: Ebon Swanβs Eternal Manor.
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There was no grand intention behind it, just the quiet pull of an afternoon unfolding gently; the kind of day that hums rather than shouts, where time moves like water and soft things are allowed to linger. We didnβt seek meaning. We simply wandered, letting stillness settle around us like an old, familiar song. Somewhere between the winding paths and half laughed stories, it became simply us; Eldraethβs Anna, Schouvertβs Jeemin, Eldraethβs Leesol, and Calsearthβs Pharita not as names, but as people sharing something small and quiet and whole. Nothing spectacular happened. The world kept turning. But within that hush, we felt it: the sacred weight of the ordinary, held briefly in our hands and carried with us, unspoken but deeply known.
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There was no grand intention behind it, just the quiet pull of an afternoon unfolding gently; the kind of day that hums rather than shouts, where time moves like water and soft things are allowed to linger. We didnβt seek meaning. We simply wandered, letting stillness settle around us like an old, familiar song. Somewhere between the winding paths and half laughed stories, it became simply us; Eldraethβs Anna, Schouvertβs Jeemin, Eldraethβs Leesol, and Calsearthβs Pharita not as names, but as people sharing something small and quiet and whole. Nothing spectacular happened. The world kept turning. But within that hush, we felt it: the sacred weight of the ordinary, held briefly in our hands and carried with us, unspoken but deeply known.
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tebak dulu aku siapa
β€1π₯1π₯°1π€―1π
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