There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.

Salvador Dali

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found the words."

- Robert Frost

debutante ball 👫

Happy International Women’s Day! Wishing a day filled with love, respect, and appreciation to all the incredible women around the world.

… ‿ℒℴνℯ⁀❤️

Alain Delonalainn

"I'm leaving this world without feeling sad. Life no longer appeals to me. I've seen and experienced everything. I hate the current era, I'm sick of it! I see really obnoxious people all the time. Everything is fake, everything is replaced. Everyone laughs at each other without looking at themselves! No respect for your word. Only money is important. We hear about crimes all day long. I know I'm going to leave this world without feeling sad about it! " Alain Delon

Birthday...

"It's not my birthday anymore. It's hard. My days are adding up. I'll be old when I am. That's all. Anger at not having carried the stolen past in my pocket!… The time when they celebrated my birthday!…"

(Poetry by Álvaro de Campos.) Fernando Pessoa

Christmas! 🤍

It's time to celebrate life, family and friends… Who makes Christmas for all of us? It's our friends Friends are our Christmas cake Each friend is worth more than a Santa Claus. Money doesn't matter What matters is the truth And the most valuable gift Is the gift of friendship Merry Christmas, my friends. ✨ 🎅 🎄⛄️✨

CHRISTMAS… You who sleep the night away on the sidewalk In a bed of rain with sheets made of wind You who have the Christmas of loneliness, of suffering You're my brother, my friend, you're my brother. And you who sleep alone in the nightmare of jealousy In a bed of anger with sheets made of fire And suffer the Christmas of loneliness without a complaint You're my brother, my friend, you're my brother. Christmas is in December But it could be in May Christmas is in September It's whenever a man wants Christmas is when it's born A life dawning Christmas is always the fruit In a woman's womb You who invent tenderness and toys to give away You who invent dolls and moonlight trains And you lie to your son because you can't buy them You're my brother, my friend, you're my brother. And you who see your hunger in the window, which I don't know about Slices of sadness in every happy king cake You put a bitter taste in every sweet I buy You're my brother, friend, you're my brother. Ary dos Santos December 7, 1937 - January 18, 1984

Walking in the rain... Lisbon by Edward Gordeev.

The Evening  - Naila Hazell

British , b. 1981 -

Acrylic on cardboard , 28 x 36 cm.