I had a dream I was able to time travel and I went like 10,20,100,1000,2000 years into the future but the instant I went to 4,000 I got stuck in a time dilation jail set up by the American government in the year 3,877 in which anyone that tried to time travel back or forth across May 23, 3877 while on Earth would end up stuck in this time dilation chamber trap to stop time travelers but like it was so crazy and mismanaged because it was legit capturing like every single time traveler ever and the place had only been open for 12 minutes and was already getting overpopulated with nonstop multiple recursive instances of this one other guy trying to break previous versions of himself out of this god damn time traveler jail
January 2016. There’s a bench at the top of Primrose Hill, in London, that looks out over the skyline of the city. If you’d passed by it one winter night, you might have seen him sitting there. A lanky guy in a wool hat, overcoat and jogging pants, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Harry Styles had a lot on his mind. He had spent five years as the buoyant fan favorite in One Direction; now, an uncertain future stretched out in front of him. The band had announced an indefinite hiatus. The white noise of adulation was gone, replaced by the hushed sound of the city below.
The fame visited upon Harry Styles in his years with One D was a special kind of mania. With a self-effacing smile, a hint of darkness and the hair invariably described as “tousled,” he became a canvas onto which millions of fans pitched their hopes and dreams. Hell, when he pulled over to the side of the 101 freeway in L.A. and discreetlythrew up,the spot became a fan shrine. It’s said the puke was even sold on eBay like pieces of the Berlin Wall. Paul McCartney has interviewed him. Then there was the unauthorized fan-fiction series featuring a punky, sexed-up version of “Harry Styles.” A billion readers followed his virtual exploits. (“Didn’t read it,” comments the nonfiction Styles, “but I hope he gets more than me.”)
But at the height of One D–mania, Styles took a step back. For many, 2016 was a year of lost musical heroes and a toxic new world order. For Styles, it was a search for a new identity that began on that bench overlooking London. What would a solo Harry Styles sound like? A plan came into focus. A song cycle about women and relationships. Ten songs. More of a rock sound. A bold single-color cover to match the working title: Pink. (He quotes the Clash’s Paul Simonon: “Pink is the only true rock & roll colour.”) Many of the details would change over the coming year – including the title, which would end up as Harry Styles – but one word stuck in his head.
I remember all the promises we’ve made together—all the good things you’ve said that I thought would last forever. We were like kids writing our futures without knowing how time could change us—how the world will try to always make us reminisce the past. How the people around us will try to mold us into something we didn’t want.
It was the different type of love. I don’t know if fate is real or if destiny confuses us about what we feel. But I always imagine you with me, and my heart beating with yours in symphony. It was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. The most wonderful feeling I couldn’t get tired of.
There’s always something that goes in between. Pedestrians passing by— every time the traffic lights signal us to stop. When you were walking fast yet caught up behind someone who is walking slowly enough. When you already want to do the things you love, but you saw something that puts a doubt in your heart. When you thought you already found someone who you can’t enjoy living without.
I choose you over anything else, hoping that you’ll also end up picking me over everybody else. Yet I put a finger on your lips telling you to stop spreading all the sugar coated lies. I point to your chest, hoping for you to be honest. Darling I think I couldn’t take it anymore, if you continue to pretend that you still love me more.
Believe when I say that everything will be okay, even if it will take a lot of time for me to heal. In the end I will surely learn from all of this things. I will still carry the love I have somewhere inside me. Not for you, but for—each and every—broken part of me. This is how I should let go of you. One by one, I’ll remove my fingertips away from holding your hands. One by one I’ll let go of you so you can rest and breathe. Day by day, letting go will ease the pain.
And until my hands stop bleeding, my soul will suddenly appreciate the wonderful life I’m living. In the end my heart will learn how to love myself more—and will finally consider it as my home.
00:08 wild flowers game ‘why do cherry blossoms bloom from flowers before the leaves come?’
we arrived late so I wondered if I couldn’t see the cherry blossoms for good this time, but fortunately, I wandered around and looked at them until my hearts content. Thank you for staying !
I was in the midst of enjoying the scenery when my father asked me ‘do you know why the cherry blossoms bloom from flowers and then the leaves come?’.
me head went “ding”. I’ve just simply wanted to see the flowers in full bloom, I’ve never thought about it before. he replied that it was for breeding and survival but I got curious all of a sudden. why do the cherry blossom bloom and fall so quickly. why do the flowers bloom before the leaves sprout? but maybe only the cherry blossom trees know that.
when I look back, there are many many moments like cherry blossoms. Things like your first love from your childhood long ago. New year goals that we don’t remember anymore.. tons of urges that we believed would be a short belief… but I don’t know if they were beautiful moments hehe
ah, and I saw a play for the first time at Daehangno ! I like the first episode that if I was confident I don’t need the assurance of others. These days I’m not writing music and It’s constantly on my mind but, once again, I started to think why I started music. I hope that my melodies and lyrics would comfort many people and help them achieve their dreams.. I thought about it. “why did I start this job?”, “what kind of heart did you have?”
If I have time in the future, I’ll go and watch sometime. I liked it since it had a different approach compared to movies. They were talking right in front of me ! It was a bit new.
when my dad talked about the cherry blossoms my mom was looking at the wildflowers and asked if I liked them because they bloomed so calmly. I like wild flowers but I really like my mothers expression “bloom calmly”. I thought it was lovely way to say it. Above all I was happy to see my parents’ faces till’ my hearts content.
I hope you guys see the wild flowers and play! If you can. I received a lot of comfort from it. I’m gonna have to run hard again. Even though the present is difficult to understand, even after 10 years pass by. Nevertheless, you have to do it. You have to.
maybe we’ll even need wild flowers more than cherry blossoms. that bloom calmly.
[Blackout] gave us a refracted view of Spears’ life, a group art project about what other people thought being Britney Spears was like. And given that Spears herself had been decimated by her own media narrative, this seemed like the perfect artistic expression of Spears at the time. She had become more concept than person, Spears Inc. instead of Britney. Who better to express this than those watching it happen, rather than the one experiencing it? Now, as Blackout turns 10, it stands as a masterpiece of her extraordinarily resilient career, a perfect piece of pop art of its time as well as a trend-setting record that brought EDM elements into the mainstream, where they still permeate today. […] At the time Blackout dropped, it sounded like it came from the future—a dystopian and warped future, but nevertheless interesting. Pop radio had remained steeped in the pop-R&B influences that had also driven Spears’ music until then: The top songs of the year were Beyoncé’s “Irreplaceable” and Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” both beautifully sung grooves. Blackout offered crunchy beats that sounded like they were coming from a broken computer, classic dubstep wobbler effects, and Spears’ voice intentionally distorted in every way possible. Whether Spears could sing didn’t matter; her producers played her like an instrument. That’s one of the more practical reasons that the opening line of the first song, “Gimme More,” is brilliant: “It’s Britney, bitch.” Instantly quotable, yes, but also a mere disclaimer—yes, this is actually Britney Spears. She is present and accounted for before her recognizable breathiness morphs seamlessly into a bass-toned, male sounding gurgle, then into a chorus of Britneys and back again during the repetitive chorus of the song.