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buvaka
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Friday 13 December 2024 17:48:11 GMT
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ZmuZzi :
Rich, Absolute Rich
2024-12-14 22:12:55
13
radermode
radermode :
Bomboclat rich millionaire millionaire
2025-01-04 17:09:01
2
nero23626
Nero :
0.01 RUB
2025-02-05 10:16:25
0
guchiguchigu3
𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖋1𝖑 :
many talks
2025-01-08 07:44:26
0
pomfichuu
pomfichu :
комиссия 2 доллара
2025-01-05 10:49:03
1962
kyrik14
._. :
квитанция и то дороже стоит
2024-12-14 12:48:06
1237
estetik_house_unitaz
gleb_tinkoff🇷🇺🇪🇺 :
поднял бабла
2024-12-14 10:27:25
1137
scv1zee58
Scv1zee :
моему другу выпала золотая бочка в расте которая стоит 1к руб
2024-12-15 08:36:11
19
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Exactly 🙌🏻📝#who_shujat #foryou #foryoupage #viral #fyp
Exactly 🙌🏻📝#who_shujat #foryou #foryoupage #viral #fyp
#onthisday
#onthisday
كوميديا#مصرى🇪🇬_اماراتى🇦🇪_سعودى🇸🇦_كويتى🇰🇼
كوميديا#مصرى🇪🇬_اماراتى🇦🇪_سعودى🇸🇦_كويتى🇰🇼
إِنَّ إِبۡرَٰهِيمَ كَانَ أُمَّةٗ قَانِتٗا لِّلَّهِ حَنِيفٗا وَلَمۡ يَكُ مِنَ ٱلۡمُشۡرِكِينَ (١٢٠) شَاكِرٗا لِّأَنۡعُمِهِۚ ٱجۡتَبَىٰهُ وَهَدَىٰهُ إِلَىٰ صِرَٰطٖ مُّسۡتَقِيمٖ (١٢١) #سورة_ النحل [120-121] أَلَمۡ تَرَوۡاْ أَنَّ ٱللَّهَ سَخَّرَ لَكُم مَّا فِي ٱلسَّمَٰوَٰتِ وَمَا فِي ٱلۡأَرۡضِ وَأَسۡبَغَ عَلَيۡكُمۡ نِعَمَهُۥ ظَٰهِرَةٗ وَبَاطِنَةٗۗ وَمِنَ ٱلنَّاسِ مَن يُجَٰدِلُ فِي ٱللَّهِ بِغَيۡرِ عِلۡمٖ وَلَا هُدٗى وَلَا كِتَٰبٖ مُّنِيرٖ (٢٠) لقمان [20-20] ‏‏‏‏‏176
إِنَّ إِبۡرَٰهِيمَ كَانَ أُمَّةٗ قَانِتٗا لِّلَّهِ حَنِيفٗا وَلَمۡ يَكُ مِنَ ٱلۡمُشۡرِكِينَ (١٢٠) شَاكِرٗا لِّأَنۡعُمِهِۚ ٱجۡتَبَىٰهُ وَهَدَىٰهُ إِلَىٰ صِرَٰطٖ مُّسۡتَقِيمٖ (١٢١) #سورة_ النحل [120-121] أَلَمۡ تَرَوۡاْ أَنَّ ٱللَّهَ سَخَّرَ لَكُم مَّا فِي ٱلسَّمَٰوَٰتِ وَمَا فِي ٱلۡأَرۡضِ وَأَسۡبَغَ عَلَيۡكُمۡ نِعَمَهُۥ ظَٰهِرَةٗ وَبَاطِنَةٗۗ وَمِنَ ٱلنَّاسِ مَن يُجَٰدِلُ فِي ٱللَّهِ بِغَيۡرِ عِلۡمٖ وَلَا هُدٗى وَلَا كِتَٰبٖ مُّنِيرٖ (٢٠) لقمان [20-20] ‏‏‏‏‏176
Ever been drunk on silence? Not the hollow kind, but the thick, verdant hush that clings to your bones like the scent of crushed thyme on sun-warmed hands? In Fundătura Ponorului, silence grows like moss—moist, tenacious, and deeply alive. Here, cows graze like half-forgotten thoughts, scattered across the hills in a bovine meditation, while haystacks—those solemn, conical monks of the meadow—stand witness to centuries of toil and tenderness. Dirt roads snake lazily through the basin, more suggestion than path, as if the land itself resists being hurried. There’s a sort of green here that defies language—an endless, rolling, living green, like a sigh that never ends. It crawls over stone and wood, seeps into the soles of your boots, and lingers behind your eyelids long after you’ve left. The stream hums its serpentine hymn, weaving past the barns with their warped timbers and stubborn roofs, where every nail tells a story hammered in by generations who never cared for the noise of the world beyond the ridge. You don’t stumble upon a place like this—you’re summoned. Not by signs or GPS coordinates, but by something older, more instinctive, like a memory from a previous life. Fundătura Ponorului doesn’t show you its beauty; it enfolds you in it, slowly, wordlessly, until you forget the names of cities and remember the rhythm of cowbells at dusk. What does your soul sound like when everything else is quiet? When was the last time you walked without needing to arrive? Video by @adriana.poteleanu [ Fundătura Ponorului, Șureanu Mountains, Green Pastures, Haystack Meadows, Dirt Roads, Traditional Villages, Rural Romania, Cow Grazing, Karst Valleys, Wooden Barns, Timeless Landscapes, Untamed Nature, Mountain Silence, Romanian Highlands, Bucolic Charm, Forgotten Trails, Shepherd Life, Deep Green Valleys, Wild Meadows, Earth’s Stillness ] #romania #travel #nature #ruralescape
Ever been drunk on silence? Not the hollow kind, but the thick, verdant hush that clings to your bones like the scent of crushed thyme on sun-warmed hands? In Fundătura Ponorului, silence grows like moss—moist, tenacious, and deeply alive. Here, cows graze like half-forgotten thoughts, scattered across the hills in a bovine meditation, while haystacks—those solemn, conical monks of the meadow—stand witness to centuries of toil and tenderness. Dirt roads snake lazily through the basin, more suggestion than path, as if the land itself resists being hurried. There’s a sort of green here that defies language—an endless, rolling, living green, like a sigh that never ends. It crawls over stone and wood, seeps into the soles of your boots, and lingers behind your eyelids long after you’ve left. The stream hums its serpentine hymn, weaving past the barns with their warped timbers and stubborn roofs, where every nail tells a story hammered in by generations who never cared for the noise of the world beyond the ridge. You don’t stumble upon a place like this—you’re summoned. Not by signs or GPS coordinates, but by something older, more instinctive, like a memory from a previous life. Fundătura Ponorului doesn’t show you its beauty; it enfolds you in it, slowly, wordlessly, until you forget the names of cities and remember the rhythm of cowbells at dusk. What does your soul sound like when everything else is quiet? When was the last time you walked without needing to arrive? Video by @adriana.poteleanu [ Fundătura Ponorului, Șureanu Mountains, Green Pastures, Haystack Meadows, Dirt Roads, Traditional Villages, Rural Romania, Cow Grazing, Karst Valleys, Wooden Barns, Timeless Landscapes, Untamed Nature, Mountain Silence, Romanian Highlands, Bucolic Charm, Forgotten Trails, Shepherd Life, Deep Green Valleys, Wild Meadows, Earth’s Stillness ] #romania #travel #nature #ruralescape

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