@_janaawad: السنه الفاتت كنت بصحي بالمنظر ده طول شهر 8🤡 #fyp #skincare #eyecream #puffyeyes #darkcircles

Jana awad
Jana awad
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Region: EG
Monday 24 August 2026 17:55:26 GMT
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raghuuudd
رَغْــدَة :
حبيبتي إحنا نطالب إن الفيديو يعدي النص ساعة عشان حوار الدقيقة والدقيقتين ده مبقاش يأكل عيش
2026-08-24 20:01:13
25
lucinda.omar1
Lucinda🦢 :
Jana I love youu
2026-08-24 17:59:26
0
mahinour_walied
mahinour❣️ :
ايه المواعيد ديه
2026-08-24 18:00:09
13
dida.hatem4
🧸 :
ايه المواعيد دي يا جنى مش معادنا دا
2026-08-24 18:49:13
6
h2070150
Ahlawia❤️🦅 :
اكتر واحدة بحب أتابعها في التيك توك
2026-08-24 19:22:48
2
reem35771
Reem :
اعملي لينا ريفيو عن بتاع اكسس واي
2026-08-24 18:01:06
2
esraamohamed5734
Esraa Mohamed :
ممكن تبقي املاح زياده في جسمك اشربي ميه كتير
2026-08-25 10:24:32
0
malak_12loka
𝓜 :
tb tmm
2026-08-24 18:34:32
0
soless2112
S :
مش بيعمل خطوطط؟
2026-08-25 06:34:42
0
sagodaa52
𝓢𝓪𝓰𝓭𝓪🪐 :
اي المواعيد دي يا جني
2026-08-24 18:18:51
0
salmamohamdelgarf
salma 🤪💅🏻 :
انا كمان والله
2026-08-24 20:54:58
0
cdklsv
user 2345179053 :
بدري اول مرة في حياتي
2026-08-24 17:59:25
1
ciuomei
كَادي :
فيرست
2026-08-24 17:57:30
0
dida42890
Farida :
هو بينام تاني ولا ايه
2026-08-25 09:06:08
0
jodyalsafty
joDy 🤍 :
❤️❤️❤️اول لايك
2026-08-24 18:04:17
0
deem.a44
🩶Deem ⚡︎ ₉¾ 🪄 :
اول
2026-08-24 18:40:34
0
imoue3
Amal :
كلنا. 🥹🥹🥹
2026-08-25 06:45:48
0
mariamhima_
🦩 :
التلج بيخفف الحوار ده
2026-08-25 13:21:05
1
riyoko_rant
𝝑୧🫧𝑹𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒌𝒐 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒓 :
شعرك طول على فكره
2026-08-24 18:05:25
1
shahdshazlyy
shahd 𓋹 :
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
2026-08-24 21:12:36
0
lolo736882206
Lolo :
🥰🥰🥰
2026-08-24 18:10:03
0
To see more videos from user @_janaawad, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz  [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces
Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces

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