1 day ago
Pressed
Were you thinking of me today
Am i ever what your thinking to say
Do you ever wonder about where i go
Ever wish you were there with me though?
I wonder where you are right now
Am i all alone somehow
No trust in myself
Not looking for help
Just wondering about all the things that were said
Did you mean what you said in my bed
Sorry for putting you there
All i wanted to do was care
Now you are lost and ive gone missing
Was it in my mind you and i were kissing
What have i done did i do it again
Did i fuck it all up to lose another friend
Now can i stop trying
Cause in this house im dying
They give me shit day in day out
All they ever fucking do is shout
Im trying to forgive myself for what ive done
These bruises and cuts have just begun
They settled me down pressed the pain within
Pressed in so deep it broke through the skin
Oh how it burns blood mixed with tears
Of all the pain i held through the years
Im cold weak and lonely
Im not waiting for you to start actin phony
Here we go i take my last breath
Wonder what theyll say now that i left...
Were you thinking of me today
Am i ever what your thinking to say
Do you ever wonder about where i go
Ever wish you were there with me though?
I wonder where you are right now
Am i all alone somehow
No trust in myself
Not looking for help
Just wondering about all the things that were said
Did you mean what you said in my bed
Sorry for putting you there
All i wanted to do was care
Now you are lost and ive gone missing
Was it in my mind you and i were kissing
What have i done did i do it again
Did i fuck it all up to lose another friend
Now can i stop trying
Cause in this house im dying
They give me shit day in day out
All they ever fucking do is shout
Im trying to forgive myself for what ive done
These bruises and cuts have just begun
They settled me down pressed the pain within
Pressed in so deep it broke through the skin
Oh how it burns blood mixed with tears
Of all the pain i held through the years
Im cold weak and lonely
Im not waiting for you to start actin phony
Here we go i take my last breath
Wonder what theyll say now that i left...
🎨 Art has the incredible power to transform spaces and minds. Each brushstroke tells a story and each piece invites us to see the world through a different lens. Let’s celebrate the creativity that connects us all! #ArtInspiration #CreativeJourney
3 days ago
🎨 Art has a unique way of transcending boundaries, connecting cultures, and sparking dialogues. Every brushstroke and shade tells a story that resonates with the soul. Let's celebrate the power of creativity and the emotions it evokes! 🌟 #ArtAppreciation #Creativity #Inspiration
3 days ago
🎨✨ Art has the incredible power to transcend boundaries, conveying emotions and stories that words sometimes cannot. Today, let's celebrate the beauty of creativity in all its forms! Whether it's painting, sculpture, or digital art, every piece tells a unique story. Share your favorite artwork and let it inspire others! #ArtAppreciation #CreativeCommunity
6 days ago
Female nude - Franz Stuck
, genre: nude painting (nu), style: Symbolism, tags: female-nude, Sketch, Figure drawing, Arm, Joint, Muscle.
https://uploads3.wikiart.org/images/franz-stuck/female-nude.jpg
6 days ago
From the series Kasen koi no bu - Kitagawa Utamaro
, genre: portrait, style: Ukiyo-e, tags: female-portraits, completition: 1794.
https://uploads6.wikiart.org/images/kitagawa-utamaro/from-the-series-kasen-koi-no-bu-1794.jpg
6 days ago
12 months ago
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…”
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…”
12 months ago
Helen Gallagher began her busy Broadway career in the 1940s and won Tony Awards for her roles in revivals of the musicals “Pal Joey” and “No, No, Nanette.” When theater roles faded, she turned to TV, principally as a star of the soap opera “Ryan’s Hope.” https://t.co/LeTeDR2MJN
Helen Gallagher, Winner of Two Tonys and Three Emmys, Dies at 98
She was honored on Broadway for roles in “Pal Joey” and “No, No, Nanette” and then turned to TV, where she won three Daytime Emmys for her work on “Ryan’s Hope.
https://t.co/LeTeDR2MJN
