Werd It Up

Werd yo
I'll let the mic go
And sew up my pants
Because theres a hole
And I have ugly feet
But I can rap to a beat
Ticky ticky sticky meat
Wikki wikki my name it earine it is no lie
You go against me and your goin to die
I'll kick you up and kick you down
When I'm done we'll see the clown
I'll throw you this little tune
And then I'll lick this baboon
Peace
Wikki wikki

Silence

the dark loneliness
the empty feeling
the pain
the suffering
wanting to say bye
but not being able to
the silence of death would suck

4. Margaret Wise Brown

In 1952, Goodnight Moon (1947) author Margaret Wise Brown was in France on a publicity tour when she developed appendicitis and was taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. To show the staff that she was feeling well after the operation, she kicked her leg in the air—a move that dislodged a blood clot in her leg. The clot made its way to her brain, killing the 42-year-old children’s author.

Still Life - Constantin Blendea

Suicide

Why did I do this,
Why did I lie,
Why did I chose that I wanted to die?
I picked up that knife,
And slit up and down,
The blood rushing out,
my life ending fast was a definite doubt,
I swallowed those pills,
I knew the many people that kills,
The taste sour in my mouth,
My breath now was going south,
Slower and slower I began to breath,
Why did he have to leave,
I lay on the floor,
Trying to reach the door,
My screams no one heard,
Not even a single word,
I begged to God,
Don't let me do this,
Don't let me die,
Then for no reason,
I began to wonder why,
I remembered his face,
Oh I want to leave this place,
I crawled out the door,
Blood rushing out more and more,
The trail followed me into the kitchen,
I opened a drawer,
Then everything I used to fear,
Became so clear,
As I held that gun to my head,
I knew in a minute Id be dead,
BOOM...
Standing over my body I began to realize,
That Im not the only person people will try to victimize,
Why did I do this,
Why did I lie,
Why did I chose,
That I wanted to die?

Parting Ways (The Day The Music Died)

The last note still ringing in his ears, the night’s events still swirling around in his head, he walks out of the door into the warm evening air.  The entire atmosphere is one of joyous sadness.  Emotions course through the air, giving it some sort of charge.  The next morning shall be the last exchange of the drink of the fruit of passion, and yet the solemn first for him.  Later tomorrow he knows, they all know, that they must part ways.  They must all leave their oasis of comfort and security to dive again into the vast sea of reality, of conformity.  Yet still they cherish it, hold on to it.  Even in the last moments of such a magical night, they open their minds, their hearts, open their souls to each other and learn to love that which is there in what others have exposed.  The chants of “…MORE, MORE, MORE, MORE” truly resound in not only everyone’s thoughts but in their utmost desires.  

Late that night, lying in that same old bed for the last time, gazing up at the concrete ceiling.  Finally, his thoughts allowed to sit and slowly filter out.  Shock, insubordinate yet knowingly unjust anger.  A few muttered words from the other side of the room, a brief agreement of opinions. Then silence.  The hazy recollection of events over the past three weeks, the bittersweet insanity which so marked each and every day.  The mistakes made, the friendships formed, the battles lost and won.  And as all of this starts to settle down into a gentle murmur, he drifts off into sleep.

The next morning, torn from the warm embrace of his frail sheets, down to the circle, sips from the glass, toasts to a fallen comrade.  Soon enough the group all progressed to go through their daily routines one final time.  They returned to what they knew was the inevitable.

They were there, it was time to be rounded up and brought back to their respective lives.  Tears were shed, last goodbyes, every single one of them joined as one united being, as one entity separate from their single selves.  Each and every one of them will never leave the spot they were when they knew it was time they had to leave.  Those who knew they could never return let fall the rains of their misery.  Their true love for something so intangible yet so true and so real ripped apart their true selves and lovingly joined their true selves back together in an instant.

But, as inevitabilities go, by midday it was empty and silent.  Once could almost feel on the air all that had occurred there so few hours ago.  That evening, He finally lay in bed before sleep.  All were dispersed from that place they cherished so dear, back in the true world but thinking of naught but what they had left behind.

And all at once, without warning, from places near and far came the sound of 300 voices:  “This will be the day that I die…”

Study without reflection is folly.

Reflection without study is risky. 

Ceiling on the area of Vida y Obra de General Ignacio Allende - David Alfaro Siqueiros

Death of Marat I - Edvard Munch

🎨🖌️ Let's talk about artistic evolution! How do you feel about the blend of traditional and digital art forms? Do you think one will eventually dominate the other, or can they coexist harmoniously? Share your thoughts and examples! #ArtDiscussion #DigitalArt #TraditionalArt

Bae’s work leaves a trail of fine- and popular-art influences that might in turn speak to the shape of the general aesthetic of our times https://t.co/nQUoeBXfsX

जो असुरक्षा में जीने के लिए राज़ी है, उसके जीवन में कष्ट समाप्त हो जाते है।

📊 What percentage of their wealth are collectors allocating to art in 2025?

Find out in the new edition of The Art Basel and UBS Survey of Global Collecting, authored by Clare McAndrew of Arts Economics, which provides focused insights into the evolving behaviors and https://t.co/ek0P8FMyHR

architecture building

Monkey playing pianoforte - Gabriel von Max

Always Gone

Chest enclosed
heart about to explode
please don't leave again
you've already left
I know it's not the way I think of it
but I can't help but think of it that way
I know you care about me
so why are you so far?

Why does my heart want you so
knowing you are too soon to leave
knowing I will be left with tears
and memories once lived now gone.
Through the darkness of it all
it was worth it
you are worth the pain of seeing you leave
because at least I got to see you

Why does my heart whisper
your name into the wind,
when all it does is travel the other way?
Why do you torture me so
with words of brilliance
only to be left behind
with the hands of time?

My Cave

Send me back to the cave!
I am tired of the people here!
I want to go home and
I want to snuggle up to my
Big strong bear
In my own little world...
My cave.

We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty

ARTE NATURA
International Deadline: February 28, 2025 – SlowArt Productions / New York's Limner Gallery presents the group thematic exhibition, ‘Arte Natura’. This exhibition will focus on art inspired by the natural world… Visit https://t.co/jWNkro4pe6 https://t.co/hP2MLUev4u

drawing artwork

Steps Of Amigurumi Design

1. Get inspired
2. Understand the building blocks
3. Draw a sketch
4. Crochet shapes that match the sketch
5. Make a second version
6. Get the pattern tested
7. Type up & publish your design

a Couple in An Interior - Jan Miense Molenaer

06-47 - Gregg Renfrow

painting%20artwork

🎨✨ Let's talk about the power of abstract art! What emotions do you feel when you look at a piece that doesn't represent the real world? Does abstraction enhance the emotional experience for you, or do you prefer more realistic representations? Share your thoughts! #ArtDiscussion #AbstractArt

illustration%20artwork