@3ran4u: #tiktok #foryoupage #xyzba

San.
San.
Open In TikTok:
Region: MM
Wednesday 14 October 2026 10:12:19 GMT
50668
4965
3
1251

Music

Download

Comments

jitjit981
Jit (R.R MOBILE) :
2026-10-14 16:58:28
0
myatminkhat44
ᎰᏒᎯᏁᏨᎬ ᏦᎬᎬ :
ရည်းစားးရှာပေး
2026-10-14 10:54:36
0
kairo1500
kairo :
@Thiri 😌
2026-10-14 15:09:17
0
To see more videos from user @3ran4u, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

Once, with some 4x4 overlanders, as we approached our camp for the night, I saw a cheetah.  It was one of those things that happen in a split second.  You look, you see, and the moment is gone before you can ask anyone else to look with you. Later, I told the group. “I saw a cheetah.” “You saw a log and thought it was a cheetah.” “Cheetahs can’t live here,” another said. “You must have been hallucinating,” someone added, amid laughter. I laughed too. These are your friends. You know how these things go.  By the time everyone has contributed, even you are enjoying the story of the log you supposedly mistook for a cheetah. But somewhere beneath your laughter, you remain very still. Because you saw it. We find ourselves here more often than we realise. You know something. You witnessed it. You heard the words, noticed the change, sat through the exchange.  But when you speak of it, the people listening have reasons why it could not have happened as you remember. Soon, you are explaining yourself more than you intended.  Searching for details you had no reason to preserve.  Wishing you had taken a photograph, kept the message, asked someone else to listen.  You had simply been living through a moment. You did not know you would later need to prove it. And their certainty begins to trouble yours. Perhaps I misunderstood. Maybe, it was nothing. Or, they are right. There is room, of course, to be mistaken. We owe ourselves enough honesty to consider that.  But sometimes you know exactly why you are giving in. You are tired of defending yourself.  You want the laughter to move on. You want to remain easy company. So you say, “Maybe it was a log.” And everyone carries on. Except you know, deep in your fucking bones, that you have said something you do not believe.  You have sided with them while quietly lying to yourself. That is the part that stays with me.  How easily we can be persuaded to participate in our own dismissal.  How an ordinary wish to belong can leave us agreeing against ourselves. I would like to learn to leave some things unresolved in the eyes of others.  To hear their doubts, consider them honestly, and still be able to say, “Well, this is what I saw.”  To let the evening continue without needing either their surrender or my own. We can laugh. We can finish the journey. We can sit together at camp. I still saw a cheetah.
Once, with some 4x4 overlanders, as we approached our camp for the night, I saw a cheetah. It was one of those things that happen in a split second. You look, you see, and the moment is gone before you can ask anyone else to look with you. Later, I told the group. “I saw a cheetah.” “You saw a log and thought it was a cheetah.” “Cheetahs can’t live here,” another said. “You must have been hallucinating,” someone added, amid laughter. I laughed too. These are your friends. You know how these things go. By the time everyone has contributed, even you are enjoying the story of the log you supposedly mistook for a cheetah. But somewhere beneath your laughter, you remain very still. Because you saw it. We find ourselves here more often than we realise. You know something. You witnessed it. You heard the words, noticed the change, sat through the exchange. But when you speak of it, the people listening have reasons why it could not have happened as you remember. Soon, you are explaining yourself more than you intended. Searching for details you had no reason to preserve. Wishing you had taken a photograph, kept the message, asked someone else to listen. You had simply been living through a moment. You did not know you would later need to prove it. And their certainty begins to trouble yours. Perhaps I misunderstood. Maybe, it was nothing. Or, they are right. There is room, of course, to be mistaken. We owe ourselves enough honesty to consider that. But sometimes you know exactly why you are giving in. You are tired of defending yourself. You want the laughter to move on. You want to remain easy company. So you say, “Maybe it was a log.” And everyone carries on. Except you know, deep in your fucking bones, that you have said something you do not believe. You have sided with them while quietly lying to yourself. That is the part that stays with me. How easily we can be persuaded to participate in our own dismissal. How an ordinary wish to belong can leave us agreeing against ourselves. I would like to learn to leave some things unresolved in the eyes of others. To hear their doubts, consider them honestly, and still be able to say, “Well, this is what I saw.” To let the evening continue without needing either their surrender or my own. We can laugh. We can finish the journey. We can sit together at camp. I still saw a cheetah.

About