I, Andrzej Haskiel, will be attending the celebration hosted by 127s in honor of the beats, highlights, and defining years that have shaped their outstanding legacy.

#NCT127_9th_Anniversary In pajamas and reverie, we let time soften. The livestream became a sanctuary, Czennies our anchor. Nine years didn't shout. They whispered back in every shared smile and silken silence.

How could one resist a place woven from reverie and riddles? Moonveil feels less like a destination, more like a memory I’ve yet to live. To kindred souls craving the curious: the hour is ripe. Come find what waits, Doyoung-tuals.

I leaned into the empyrean, shoulders uncloaked, heart aglint with soft undoing. Each breath a relic, each stillness a sanctum. The wind knew my name and spoke it back in tongues of solace. In that moment, I was not found, I was unlost

The wind tugged at my sleeve like an eager child, whispering, “this way!” So I followed and found myself in a sun-dappled moment, lounging with clouds, while minutes danced past wearing bells and laughter.

The timetables are out! Doyoung-tuals, will you be there too?

The concept’s here! Doyoung-tuals, what are you waiting for?

Last day in Yokohama. As the 𝖣͟𝗈͟𝗈͟𝗋͟𝗌 opened, your voices poured in gentle yet resolute, like waves that remember the shore. The chants, the songs... You lingered in every corner. Czennies, you became the sound of comfort, and my heart bowed quietly.

Yokohama’s night holds me like a song: low, endless, and tender. I walk with bare arms to the breeze, heart open to the hush. The city’s breath feels familiar, like you. I wonder if you feel it too, wherever you are.

Miaou-miaou (re: ada yang mau intip oa keren ini bareng oyung?)

Studio AZeed becomes a dream when Memory begins. Will you sing it beside me, two voices echoing through clouds, stitched in hush, like lovers floating between the stars?

There’s a liturgy in my stillness. Tailored threads, onyx cross, and a gaze that disarms with its quiet. I’m not here to perform, I’m here to remind. Presence like an eclipse: serene, rare, and impossible to ignore.

VCR shot complete. I danced not to charm but to haunt. A silhouette carved in dusk, eyes stitched with prophecy and poison. Power doesn’t raise its voice it steps forward in silence. My performance? A warning cloaked in allure.

Bersama doyoung dombret/? DOYOUNG.