@be.happy.320: #🥰 😂

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Friday 06 November 2026 14:34:32 GMT

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user568223192457 :

好可愛的腳腳🤭😽

2026-11-06 23:24:39

10

yongsin345 :

OMG...小妹們妳太可愛了吧😍🥰

2026-11-07 00:51:42

5

S@M :

gulat knp mereka si bocil imut ini 😁

2026-11-06 14:46:42

22

✨zijun✨子俊💫 :

好可爱的娃儿都聪明都很棒好像是在打拳谢谢分享

2026-11-07 02:18:58

1

蘇坡面 :

好可愛

2026-11-06 16:44:44

7

𝐍𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐚𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐳̌8² :

1+1=3 1+1=4 bocill Ai gemes",,,😂

2026-11-07 00:03:02

8

erni :

gara2 masalah kentut😂😂😂

2026-11-06 23:19:32

5

Aloosh :

2026-11-07 01:13:18

1

Blue_Shine🔵🌟 :

soooo cute 🥰

2026-11-07 03:32:59

0

小欣 :

2026-11-07 02:25:22

1

Chuckies :

2026-11-07 01:42:00

1

🖤 zi 🖤 :

baru tahu low 1 +1 = kentut..[Tawa oke][Tawa oke][Tawa oke]

2026-11-07 04:19:22

6

𝕽𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝕴𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖆💫𝕻𝖘𝕯 :

2026-11-07 01:07:53

1

⭕𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖋_fx📈 :

2026-11-07 01:50:26

1

🍁Ękłěęmå🔸 :

2026-11-07 02:54:28

1

🌹RESIH _JENONK 🥀 :

2026-11-07 02:24:13

1

Safa Hakim :

2026-11-07 02:24:21

1

🥀 :

2026-11-07 02:17:31

1

user47782137909 :

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

2026-11-07 03:10:39

1

Ros :

❤️❤️❤️❤️

2026-11-06 16:16:03

3

小莉 :

爲何祇許春風去，卻不允我再少年❤

2026-11-07 02:20:12

2

mawar bodas :

[Menghangatkan hati][Menghangatkan hati][Menghangatkan hati]...pingin punya anak kembar

2026-11-07 03:10:06

3

김월숙 :

너무기엽다🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

2026-11-07 00:59:40

1

Pp :

人才

2026-11-07 00:46:33

1

ibu_halimah :

lucu

2026-11-07 00:50:10

1

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#sikatmandi

The Things I Think About by My Window Tonight, I’m sitting beside my window, just like I always do at this hour, looking at the sky. I love the stars. Those little lights can make me stop and breathe, even after the hardest day. Sometimes I look at one long enough to feel as though it is shining just for me—as though, somewhere in all that darkness, something has noticed I’m here. Call me a dreamer. I don’t mind. I cannot live my whole life according to what people think of me. I have my own thoughts, my own emotions, my own heart. And here, beside this window, I give myself permission to listen to them. Sometimes I think about Adam and Eve. I wonder what life might have been like if they had never disobeyed God. Would we still know this much sorrow? Would loving one another feel so difficult? I don’t have the answers. These are simply the questions that come to me when the house is quiet. Then I think about the world outside. I see relationships where people are afraid of the person they once trusted. I see anger between parents and children, cruelty between partners, and homes where everyone seems to be hurting and nobody knows how to stop. Some of that pain is familiar to me. I know what it feels like to be hurt by a man who was supposed to love me. When I speak about violence behind closed doors, I am speaking about something I survived. And I keep coming back to the same question: why do so many people want control? Control over someone’s clothes. Their friendships. Their voice. Their choices. Their freedom. How does a person reach the point where being obeyed matters more than knowing their partner feels safe? I want a love where I can speak without preparing for an argument. Where two people can disagree and still treat each other gently. Where neither person has to become smaller to keep the peace. And beyond our homes, I see another kind of distance growing between us. People judging skin color, accents, countries, and backgrounds. People deciding who deserves respect before they have even heard that person’s story. I don’t understand why being different makes us so uncomfortable. We were never all going to look alike, speak alike, or live the same life. Someone’s skin cannot tell you whether they will sit beside you when you are grieving. An accent cannot tell you how generous a person is. You have to know someone to discover those things. You have to give them a chance. Sometimes everything I’m feeling arrives at once, and I cannot find the words. I feel sadness. Anger. Exhaustion. I remember what happened to me, and I wish other people could be spared that pain. But I still want closeness. I still want people to come home to kindness. I want children to feel safe, parents to feel loved, and partners to stop treating each other like enemies. Maybe that is why I keep looking at the stars. After everything I have seen, I can still sit beside my window and find something beautiful. I can still imagine a gentler life. And somewhere, someone else may be looking at that same sky, wishing for the very same thing. Tonight, I wish I could tell them: I’m here too. I haven’t stopped hoping. There is still room in this world for people like us. — Adelaida Sobrado © 2026 Adelaida Sobrado — All Rights Reserved. By my window, beneath the stars, I let my heart speak. I think about the pain we carry, the kindness we need, and the hope I still refuse to lose. Call me a dreamer—I still believe we can treat one another better. 🌙✨ — Adelaida Sobrado AdelaidaSobrado #ASCreative #MidnightThoughts #WindowReflections #StillIHope#fypシ゚

The Things I Think About by My Window Tonight, I’m sitting beside my window, just like I always do at this hour, looking at the sky. I love the stars. Those little lights can make me stop and breathe, even after the hardest day. Sometimes I look at one long enough to feel as though it is shining just for me—as though, somewhere in all that darkness, something has noticed I’m here. Call me a dreamer. I don’t mind. I cannot live my whole life according to what people think of me. I have my own thoughts, my own emotions, my own heart. And here, beside this window, I give myself permission to listen to them. Sometimes I think about Adam and Eve. I wonder what life might have been like if they had never disobeyed God. Would we still know this much sorrow? Would loving one another feel so difficult? I don’t have the answers. These are simply the questions that come to me when the house is quiet. Then I think about the world outside. I see relationships where people are afraid of the person they once trusted. I see anger between parents and children, cruelty between partners, and homes where everyone seems to be hurting and nobody knows how to stop. Some of that pain is familiar to me. I know what it feels like to be hurt by a man who was supposed to love me. When I speak about violence behind closed doors, I am speaking about something I survived. And I keep coming back to the same question: why do so many people want control? Control over someone’s clothes. Their friendships. Their voice. Their choices. Their freedom. How does a person reach the point where being obeyed matters more than knowing their partner feels safe? I want a love where I can speak without preparing for an argument. Where two people can disagree and still treat each other gently. Where neither person has to become smaller to keep the peace. And beyond our homes, I see another kind of distance growing between us. People judging skin color, accents, countries, and backgrounds. People deciding who deserves respect before they have even heard that person’s story. I don’t understand why being different makes us so uncomfortable. We were never all going to look alike, speak alike, or live the same life. Someone’s skin cannot tell you whether they will sit beside you when you are grieving. An accent cannot tell you how generous a person is. You have to know someone to discover those things. You have to give them a chance. Sometimes everything I’m feeling arrives at once, and I cannot find the words. I feel sadness. Anger. Exhaustion. I remember what happened to me, and I wish other people could be spared that pain. But I still want closeness. I still want people to come home to kindness. I want children to feel safe, parents to feel loved, and partners to stop treating each other like enemies. Maybe that is why I keep looking at the stars. After everything I have seen, I can still sit beside my window and find something beautiful. I can still imagine a gentler life. And somewhere, someone else may be looking at that same sky, wishing for the very same thing. Tonight, I wish I could tell them: I’m here too. I haven’t stopped hoping. There is still room in this world for people like us. — Adelaida Sobrado © 2026 Adelaida Sobrado — All Rights Reserved. By my window, beneath the stars, I let my heart speak. I think about the pain we carry, the kindness we need, and the hope I still refuse to lose. Call me a dreamer—I still believe we can treat one another better. 🌙✨ — Adelaida Sobrado AdelaidaSobrado #ASCreative #MidnightThoughts #WindowReflections #StillIHope#fypシ゚

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