Ezzy ♻️

Look at the speedometer, As a good driver what are you doing next ??

I believe in Miracle

@Oluwasen_ Really near😂

@Ezzy1335295 The end is near

Look at the speedometer, As a good driver what are you doing next ??

@sirencrave Gorgeous

bianca censori before kanye west

@prettiest_oma With that speed?

@Ezzy1335295 Match break and switch towards that tree as long as there’s no car behind you

It's not just any book, It's the Only one. Watch him tell about the book 🎥 🍿

@Vsince1907 Nothing

Truth….If your partner checks your phone now…what will happens?

@prettiest_oma Lets start introduction preparation 😍🔥

I dey buy PS5 for talking stage, incase you want to know more about me.

@OMaefiah 😂😂😂

This is so funny 😂the last part😂😂

@OgadimmaE21 I love ram suya…. Mutual?

We all agree that👇 Ram Suya >>>>>>>>> cow Suya

@Oluwasen_ Great thread

Once upon a time in the quiet coastal town of Eldora, where the sea whispered secrets to the cliffs every evening, lived a man named Thomas who had forgotten how to smile. Thomas was sixty-eight, a retired lighthouse keeper with salt in his beard and silence in his heart. After his wife, Clara, passed away five years earlier, he had closed himself inside their little blue cottage like a book no one wanted to finish. He walked the same path to the market every Tuesday, bought the same loaf of bread, and returned home without speaking to a soul. The townspeople called him “Old Tom” with affection, but from a distance. One crisp autumn morning, everything changed. A small girl with wild copper curls and mud on her knees appeared at the edge of the cliff path. She couldn’t have been more than nine. She carried a bright yellow kite that had seen better days, its tail frayed like an old friendship bracelet. “Excuse me, mister,” she said, voice clear as a bell. “My kite is scared of heights. Can you help it remember how to fly?” Thomas almost kept walking. Almost. But something in her earnest brown eyes, wide, hopeful, and completely unafraid of his gruff exterior, made him stop. “I’m not much for kites anymore,” he muttered. “That’s okay,” she replied, undeterred. “I’m not much for being alone. My name’s Lila. I just moved here with my mom. She works a lot.” Before he knew it, Thomas was holding the string. The wind picked up, playful and insistent, and together they ran along the clifftop. The kite soared, dancing against the blue sky like it had been waiting years for this exact moment. Lila’s laughter rang out, bright and unstoppable, and for the first time in half a decade, Thomas felt his own mouth curve upward. That was only the beginning. Every Tuesday and Thursday after that, Lila appeared at the same spot. She brought drawings of lighthouses and seashells. Thomas brought extra sandwiches, ham and cheese, cut into triangles the way Clara used to make them. They talked about everything and nothing. Lila told him about her fear of the dark and how she missed her dad who lived far away. Thomas found himself speaking about Clara: how she loved collecting sea glass, how she hummed when she baked, how the house still smelled like her vanilla perfume on quiet nights. “You’re sad because you miss her,” Lila said one afternoon, legs swinging from the old wooden bench. “But maybe she’s up there flying kites with the clouds, waiting for you to be happy again. She wouldn’t want you lonely.” Thomas’s eyes stung. He looked away, toward the horizon where the sea met the sky in a soft, endless line. Winter came gently that year. On the coldest day, Lila arrived with a scarf she had knitted herself, lopsided, full of holes, and the warmest thing Thomas had ever worn. In return, he gave her his old brass compass, the one Clara had given him on their wedding day. “So you never lose your way home,” he said, voice rough with emotion. Spring arrived with wildflowers and new beginnings. One evening, as the sun painted the cliffs gold, Lila’s mother, Elena, came looking for her daughter. She was a tired but kind woman with the same copper curls. When she saw Thomas and Lila sitting together, sharing strawberries and stories, something in her face softened. “Thank you,” Elena whispered to him later, while Lila chased fireflies. “She’s smiled more in these months than she has in years.”

Twitter don traumatize me😭😭

@Saodami1 Impact of death😂

@Ezzy1335295 Match brake and brace for impact.

Move to side, little by little breaking....

@Dat_teresa At a speed of 180km/hr?😂

@Ezzy1335295 Shift to the side and reduce small small, then be braking while at it

@future4_1 Great movie

This is an emotional and high stake scene. Everything unfolds in a rush and panic heartbreak. 🎥🎥 Humans can’t breathe the air on Pandora