A Pen Drawing of a Popular Canadian Rapper by name Justin Bieber 🇨🇦✈️✈️ Hope you Love 🥺♥️ It ? What's your thoughts on this drawing friends? Please - Follow, Like, Share and Comments your thoughts 😍🙏🙏 #dikesolomon #dikesolomon_ #dikesolomonart #dikesolomonarts #art #artist #artlovers #pencil #Connect #pen #drawing #sketches #biopage #page #followers #bio
Tilted Sisi A Photorealism Pencil Drawing ✏️✏️ Hope you Love 🥺♥️ It ? What's your thoughts on this drawing friends? Please - Follow, Like, Share and Comments your thoughts 😍🙏🙏 #dikesolomon #dikesolomon_ #dikesolomonart #dikesolomonarts #art #artist #artlovers #pencil #Connect #pen #drawing #sketches #biopage #page #followers #bio
Edvard Munch led a life that was by no means considered easy, especially at the beginning. His emotional pain led to him painting The Scream. This is a very widely known painting, even today, in the 21st century. If you showed it to the average person, they'd know it by name. They might even know the painter. What a lot of people don't know, however, is that Munch has many other works, many of which are drenched in just as much emotion as The Scream is. The painting that sticks out, and will be discussed today, is The Sick Child. The Sick Child is an oil painting done in Norway by Edvard Munch. The first rendition of it was done in 1896. It features a young girl with red hair looking out the window, resigned, as an older woman cries at her side. As part of his creative process, Munch tended to redo paintings over and over until he believed they were just right. For example, there are four different versions of The Scream (Paulson). The Sick Child is no exception to this, being redone over six times in oil paint and other mediums. He wanted to make sure that this painting conveyed his emotions perfectly, that he took every bit of emotion possible and put it into this work. Edvard Munch's The Sick Child is an extremely emotional painting full of grief and anguish, and the artist used painting this piece over and over as a way to get past the untimely deaths of several of his relatives. This piece's name was originally in Norwegian, and in this language it's called “Det Syke Barn” (“The Sick Child, 1885 by Edvard Munch”). Munch ended up redoing this painting over and over again throughout the rest of his career (Heer), to process his feelings of grief and love toward his sister and to make sure that everything about it was right. Edvard Munch's life definitely influenced this piece a lot. At the time that his sister Sophie, the child in the painting, died, he was only 14 years old (Heer), yet he had already been through unimaginable trauma. His mother died of tuberculosis when he was only five years old (“The Sick Child”), and his sister was dying of it now. She was just fifteen and should have had many years left. Munch himself had tuberculosis when he was young, but was able to overcome it. The artist ended up being glad he had such a tumultuous childhood, though. He later said, “Without fear and illness, my life would have been a boat without a rudder” (Heer). Without the sickness and trauma, the artist would not have been able to make so many works that have so much emotion in them. They fueled his work for many years, but first he had to get started. It wasn't until 1886 that Munch revisited his sister's death for the first time, venturing to paint it to try to get his feelings out and work through the trauma that he'd been through. He ended up reworking the painting several times for over 40 years (“The Sick Child, 1885 by Edvard Munch”), trying to get it just right, but many of these renditions are very similar to one another, with just small parts changed. The background of the work is dark in all renditions. The lightest parts are always right in the center, where the subject is lying in her bed. This shows that she had a lot of life in her, even though she was dying. She is very clearly the focal point of this image, her bright orange-ish hair contrasting the dark green background. Her hair seems almost to be glowing. She was the light in Edvard Munch's life and it was devastating to him to see his older sister die. He wanted to highlight the fact that she was still alive in this painting. Referring to the painting, Munch said, “What I wanted to bring out―is that which cannot be measured―I wanted to bring out the tired movement in the eyelids―the lips must look as though they are whispering―she must look as though she is breathing―I want life―what is alive” (Heer). She was still alive, and he wanted to highlight this, the sense of hope he felt even as she was clearly very ill. He painted her with a very neutral expression, even though the person next to her is very clearly in a lot of emotional pain. At this point she has resigned herself to her fate. Sophie, the subject of the painting, is looking toward the window, which is dark. This is seen as another sign of her being resigned to her death. The window has no light, showing that her life is coming to an end; there is no more light in her life (Heer). The woman next to her, who is believed to be their Aunt Karen, taking care of the children after their mother's untimely death, is in dark clothes, representing mourning (“The Sick Child”). She is very upset at her niece's death, even more so than Sophie is about dying, it seems. Munch wanted to capture Sophie's feelings in this painting, his sister being brave in her last moments.
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Okay, let's talk about drugs. I'm not talking about the drugs you might find on the street that are manufactured to make you high – that are also illegal. I'm talking about the drugs that are necessary to keep you healthy and perhaps, even alive. I'm also talking about the medications that are needed to help ease whatever pain affects your body. Many of these medications are so expensive that many people can't afford them. They find themselves in a difficult situation. Do you purchase your medication? Buy groceries? Pay your bills? What do you do? Last year, to control my diabetes, I was on three different diabetic medications: Metformin, Farxiga, and Janumet. While Metformin was reasonably priced, the total of all three medications cost $505.00 a month. That's right You read that correctly. FIVE-HUNDRED-FIVE dollars EACH month! Oh, and that is WITH my insurance. I can't even imagine what it would cost if my insurance hadn't paid the bulk of this astronomical cost. And yet, there are others that don't have the same insurance we have. Can you imagine trying to buy your meds and pay the rent? Especially if you're like me and your Social Security benefits are less than $1000.00 each month. Heck, with that little SS coming in, I couldn't even afford an apartment, let alone rent AND meds. The point I'm trying to make is the fact that most medications cost about 50 cents to manufacture. Of course, that doesn't figure in the cost of maintaining the equipment, the salaries for the line workers, or the scientists. What bothers me is the pay the corporate executives give themselves. Why are they making millions, if not billions of dollars every year. Most of the worker-bees might make approximately $1500 a week – if they're lucky, while the CEOs are making approximately $28MILLION each year. Doesn't seem fair, does it? At one time, I thought the CEOs of the big pharma companies made about $300-500K a year. Then, I decided to be a bit more accurate and look it up. You could have knocked me over with a feather! Not $2M a year but $28M a year! That's just not right! And to think they are walking home with a clear conscience knowing they aren't doing all that much to actually earn that kind of salary while their little peons are probably struggling to pay their bills. I sincerely doubt that they're even bothered by the fact that us little guys, especially the ones on Social Security are struggling even harder. I guess I just get frustrated when I see my medical bills constantly rising while my Medicare payments don't increase as rapidly. It's mind boggling to think they expect anyone to pay for the cost of these drugs and have a decent living. Maybe someday, someone might figure this out. But until then, the drug companies have us over a barrel and that barrel is wobbling, overflowing with water, and getting bigger by the day. There are also the age-related illnesses that require medical attention. Some are high blood pressure, stenosis, osteoarthritis, and a host of others that are just related to getting old. Hell, maybe the answer is Soilent Green. If you've never seen that movie, see if you can find it on HBO or maybe Netflix or perhaps one of your cable stations. I'm not saying I'm a fan of Soilent Greet but maybe when you think about the high cost of drugs, this is the direction the world is headed.
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Shrivelled up inside Feeling worthless You ever think a six-year-old should feel like that Just because they couldn't add 2 plus 4 in math? Over the years your words pummel my tiny mind Invisible claws digging deep Leaving gaping wounds of insecurity Your face says it all That crease in your forehead foretells of the coming ‘licks' My eyes dart in panic to the dining room chair Where your favourite leather strap hangs carelessly Just waiting to attack mercilessly and make my skin black Why can't you see that I'm giving it my all? The unending comparisons with my sister's aptitude Makes me want to hold my head and bawl Her perfect scores drive me up the wall Oh the wall, where I distractedly watch a lizard crawl ‘Whap!' My scream, a sob, a bawl Let that leather strap sing Cause that's the thing My copybook page dotted with the watery evidence of my failure My leaky eyes and snotty nose run like a free flowing river Why don't you know I'm trying my best? Oh the stress! Is you, is me, is the leather strap under duress Grannie in the corner watching with eyes gleaming Liking the way that the strap falling Mummy working..oh I miss she No one knows my pain Except God, but then again.. He doh answer No matter dey say He hear My cries, my six-year-old pain Have me thinking to run away On days like this where bliss is a definite miss They say is for my own good But my lost voice breaks my heart Somedays I plot my master escape in my head To sneak from my bed and just fled Lying in the dark, no meal because I didn't answer correctly Math ain't my forte Don't they see I just want to play? The neighbourhood kids screaming for fun and games Me always at my desk Studies more important..the adults say But wait eh Someday when I am grown I will have my say Because no one better lay a finger on my chile This mummy will be a tiger Who wants things better And the power I hold Will definitely be told And the mountains my kid will climb Would be so better than mine For it all starts and stops with me No generational curses and lame-o excuses But the truth that to be better, You must conquer that pain Unlocking and understanding are the key My mummy and daddy didn't know better But these books I reading and these TV programs I seeing Got my brain cells electrifying Change is in me I hold the power! Its up to me..let ME determine my FUTURE!
"Are you okay?" seems to trigger an array of emotions just from a simple question. Watching her go through a crippled chaos that should've devoured her feelings of strength and left her lying on the floor in anguish and despair, but instead she stands without fear of what is ahead and a complete trust in her heart for the path that lie in front of her. Smiling every day as she wakes before dawn, I hear her words, "Please don't offer an apology for what I am going through. There is purpose in this pain. My journey is different than yours, but we all experience an unexpected upheaval in our stories through life that will lead us to who we are supposed to be. I am thankful." And she is. She chooses to be grateful instead of bitter. Never turning around even through the tears and the scars of memories stitched on her heart of what was but what isn't anymore. It is through the fall that she found herself. That she had no choice but to reach deeper than she ever had before, falling in love with that brave soul that was buried underneath the shell of who she thought she was. The person that she once was before her vision was clouded by temptation and false love. One that she fell for so easily because it's what she felt was true. She learned that in this glorious walk of life, we finally get a glimpse of the real love when we experience that magnificent fall. That's when we realize that we love ourselves enough not to give up, but to push forward, guarding our hearts carefully through the war of the life we thought we knew. Opening up to a resilience that our souls have been longing for. Terrified at first, we take that first step forward, breathing in the fear. Holding our breath only for a moment as we close our eyes to find that peace. And suddenly, we open our eyes and exhale that fear as we leave it behind and welcome a new sense of wonder that we never knew existed. Trusting our journey and keeping our eyes ahead. All the while, falling and rising up over and over again. Gaining a beautiful strength with each fall.
We live in a world of friskiness. We cannot abide for what we feel before this frisky world. We cannot escape. There is no escape. Because there is no exist to the great world we have left behind. It is a frisky mouse trap. There is no salvation. We are attached to its frisky awareness. Many of us try to hold safely these frisky waves of existence and we have failed miserably during these 100 years of living hell and separated individually if that is a frozen pond. Not because this mean we still believe that tomorrow will be a new tomorrow but rather all around is a frisky sense of emptiness. Every time we awake, and we become aware we are still breathing, a junk of kindness leaves us trembling physically, mentally and spiritually which it creates a vacuum of exhaustion. Philosophy of life tells us the simplicity of value cannot be beheld by the perception but instead by the will. The Stoicism encourages us to face all odds by struggle further our own willingness. In fact, they force us willingly to create a habit of our fear a frisky hope. Existentialists observes that we are not a social paramount giver but rather we are layers of this product they call it a culture menace and while religions have a hill task of convince us we are not the sinners here, we collapse among ourselves so poorly and together the essential of being the only human that principle of royalty is all about we fight among us like vultures. So, what is left? What kind of frisky truth we should grasp to our dying beings to restore ourselves as we were previously made? That is the true essential of being humans for everyone involve.
What does it feel like to be invisible? So invisible that when you complain about it, people won't even notice. The feeling of invisibility more often than not comes as an escape, whether you just want to get out of a crowd unnoticed or stay in bed all weekend. Everything is perfect, but sometimes, you just feel like a ghost going through the wall. It's the feeling of standing in front of the class trying to talk over the chatters that drown your voice. It's the feeling of being chosen last in PE class. It's when your dearest friend finds a new best friend and assumes you're okay with it. It's like walking next to a bedazzled famous model. They focus on the other person, but never you. But you like being invisible so much that most of the time, you accept the feeling of being left out. It's okay if they don't invite you to dinner parties. It's okay that some people in the class still don't know your name. It's normal that you never get any texts and waiting for you when you go home. You convince yourself that this was your unique way of owning your life. It was your decision to fade away from the center of attention. Yet, sometimes, you feel like a spare person that people brought along to a party out of of pity. Nonetheless, what really saddens you is how invisible your feelings are to the people that are closest to you. You make myself too easy of a target to be used, be thrown away and be left out. Some people have mentioned that they didn't feel as guilty as they should when they made you suffer, because you're so forgiving about everything. Those remarks only reminded you of what your mom always said, that she always became angrier when you cried, but softened when others shed a tear. Your pain acted more like a sign of weakness than something everyone should sympathize with. All was to be dealt with alone. Thus, whenever you were sad, depressed, feeling left out or angry, you just tried to hide it more. Who will care if you showed your true emotions? Wouldn't everyone perceive it as being overreacting or possessive? In the end, you blame yourself. You knew it was you who made yourself become that invisible person. No one else should be at fault. If only you had someone who dealt with pain the same way you did, you might feel a little better. You wonder if someone's standing in the same blood rain as you too, letting the bullets sear through their hearts just as you do. Deep inside, you know the chances of discovering that 'someone' is impossible. Like you, they've blended their shadows with the darkness. The bleeding is internal. Nobody will be willing to admit that they hurt you. No one at all. Yet, you still come crawling back to them, because you love them so much and you feel like being the better person. You feel like not talking about what others have done to you because you've promised to be this humble piece of rock that just exists for everyone to step on. But no matter how many times people kick and throw you away, you'll always have that hard external cover to prevent yourself from looking scarred and injured. People look at your rigidness and keep on throwing you elsewhere. If they knew how much hatred you've carried around, they wouldn't dare bury you in dust again. But you can handle it a little longer, don't you think?
A joint family.Many cousins.More laughter.The more,the merrier.It was March and I was in school preparing for my board examination with my friends.I was happy that time.They love me a lot.It's great if you have one or two true friends rather than having fake people who pretend to be your friend.Suddenly,there was lockdown all over the country.I was worried.No school.Can't meet friends.I thought the world was coming to an end.But at the same time I was so happy because I can't go to school.After fifteen days or so,I started to exercise with my brothers.I also watched a lot of movies with my cousins.We played a lot.We also played our version of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts (inspired by James Corden Show).Thank God I was asked simple questions.There was also talk about my sister's marriage.My favorite time of the day was talking with my grandpa after exercising.My day wouldn't be complete without it.I love him so much.Meanwhile me and my sister opened an Instagram account and started to post quotes written by us.I discovered a lot of English songs and grooved to them.Life was not perfect yet it was beautiful. I started to love my life and myself.I learnt many things about life.Like letting go of the grudges we hold against people,appreciating everything in life and mainly being happy with what we have.And so many.My board examination was cancelled.Hooray!! My sister got married to the love of her life on June 12,2020 in quarantine.Older people of the family went to her wedding.The saddest thing was me and my cousins were not able to witness her marriage .Everyone was so happy in the family.On the night of her wedding she bid farewell and left for Bangalore.And after that,same routine.Watch movies.Exercise.Eat.Sleep. It sounds mundane to some people to follow same routine everyday.The afternoon of June 12,my dad had fever.He thought it might be coronavirus and so he isolated himself in a room.Never allowed any of us to go in.He had no symptoms.It was just a normal fever.He was perfectly alright.After 10 days my aunt also had fever.Shortly after 3 days or so my cousin had fever too.From her the fever was spread to my cousin brother.And from him,to my grandma and onto my grandpa and uncle.The first time,my grandma was alright.But the second time she had fever,she was not able to sleep due to suffocation.It was at the midnight of July 4 that my grandma's condition became severe.My dad and uncle called many hospitals.All had the same answer "We don't have enough beds.Sorry sir".At the morning of July 4,my grandma got ready to meet doctor.On her way to hospital she passed away.All of a sudden I heard someone crying.I rushed to the hall and my mom said to me, crying, that grandma has died.It was an extreme shock.We all thought that she would go to the hospital,come back and take rest for some time and be alright.But we didn't expect she would die.My grandpa was so devastated.Immediately my grandpa took COVID test.We were all mourning.All were heartbroken.The hospital told us they would give the body the next day.Fast forwarding to next day,my grandpa was tested positive for COVID.My grandma's body came to the graveyard at around 4.30 P.M.My mom,dad and everyone except kids went to the burial ground.We kids were not fortunate enough to even see her body.That night my grandpa was admitted in a private hospital.The next day,July 6 we all went to take COVID test.We didn't say a word to grandpa about this because he would be scared even more.The tests came and 6 members in our family were tested positive.They were home quarantined.The only communication with our grandpa was through phone.At first the doctors said his condition was alright.Later they told us he was in ICU.And again they told us he was good.My grandpa lost his wife.We shouldn't have left him alone.We should've been with him,comforting him.But what if my grandpa is home quarantined and the same situation occurs as compared to my grandma.He was so well before going to the hospital.After 12 days my grandpa passed away.He left us.My heart was crushed.I even thought if this all are real.I lost hope in almighty God.I was angry on him. But everything happens for a reason.It was hard to not to think about their demise.It was hard to move on with our lives.Every second,every minute was hard to move on.Grandparents are the pillars of any family.Now my family has lost two strong pillars.We always don't appreciate the value of a person when they are alive,when they are around us.We realize their value only when they are gone,gone to a new place or gone away forever from us.We will keep regretting every single action of ours towards them.Death is natural.We are born one day and we must die one day.Nothing is permanent.Life is too short to hold grudges,to be angry at someone,to not forgive someone.Forgive someone even before they ask you to.Love unconditionally.Value relationships.There is only one life.Let us live life to the fullest not wasting any minute of it.
4 YEARS OF HORROR LIVING A TOXIC LIFE It was still a mystery how something good turned so sour in just a few years. It felt almost like a switch was flipped off and his humanity was automatically turned off, turning him into a monster of the worst kind. How had I endured all of this for so long?? I felt drained and exhausted from constantly checking my actions to avoid any flaws or mistakes that would unleash the demon in him. Being mentally frustrated was not enough to explain how dehumanized I felt; I was practically scared of my own skin and was always wired to bolt from the slightest scare. How could a man drag a woman's pride in the mud, destroy her self esteem, brutalise her personality and still expected her to love him completely ?? What a toxic world I lived in. My name is Neni and I was trapped for four years of my student life. 2015 *** Stepping into my biology class for the first time felt good because it meant I was grown up enough to handle my life and take care of myself. I have been set free from the shackles of my parents and I had the world at my feet and the heavens just above my head. In my euphoric state I was ecstatic and crazy enough to think if I just reached out my hand I could touch the heavens above and make my wishes come true. More like my worst fears came to life. Meeting Simon was not as dramatic as first love's seem to emphasize. He was my lab partner during computer class and we sort of bonded over trivial discussion while I admired how beautifully created he was. He was very funny, goofy, knew how to charm a woman and make her swoon,very persuasive in a romantic way and was as considerate as any first year student could be. We made time to see each other outside of classes which proved difficult because of our different time tables, class schedules, hostel rules and everything beyond but we tried as much as we could to hang out during games in the evenings. He asked me to be his girlfriend on matriculation day and I gleefully accepted with all my immature heart fluttering and goosebumps lining up my arms which sent chills down my spine, making me feel I had found my missing rib. Four year down the line and it still remained the worst decision of my entire adult life. 2016 *** "Simon, have you seen my ATM card"?, I can't find it anywhere. I lamented bitterly because I needed to use the money my parents sent to me to pay off my school debts. "Yes babe" I have it with me and I need to use some of the money to clear up some stuff I got tangled in, he replied casually. What!! Exactly what are you talking about?? How can you even say such a thing. Please hand over my card I said with my hands outstretched. The vibration from the slap I received gave me nosebleeds and I literally fell to the floor. "Don't you ever question my decisions in this relationship ever again" he yelled and stomped out. I sat down on the cold tiled floor in my shorts and bloodstained white tank top feeling like a hammered drunk, dazed and too useless to move. Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the beginning of many more scary abuses to come. I was currently leaving with simon because we couldn't bear to be apart from each other even for a minute and he didn't want the restrictions the hostel presented so I partially moved in with him in my second year. I remember how loving and caring he was during our first year together, how he lavished me with tenderness and love. He holistically adored the ground on which I walked and worshipped at my feet. He loved my body like it was his, he adored every part of me, reverenced my core, bowed before my gates, asked permission before taking charge and took me on a ride of ecstasy and over the edge with a mastery that only he could perfect. We understood each other perfectly well, we didn't envy others and were content with everything we had until he wasn't. Simon became more cranky, lost interest in school, pilfered some money here and there, made excuses for his absences and spent all his time in the gambling den. The days he didn't win were the worst of them all. Full Story Here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/o04shq93hkaftha/4%20YEARS%20OF%20HORROR%20LIVING%20A%20TOXIC%20LIFE.docx?dl=0
It wasn't just a dark rose, it was the life of innocence, as each petal she clenched, fell to the ground. It was a life of hope, Hope that one day, her love might be enough. It wasn't just a dark rose, it was a broken heart, aching from the countless lies told, an aching heart, wondering how he could be so cold. It wasn't just a dark rose, as the bloody knife clattered on the ground, and the lovely red petals were engulfed in her blood. It really wasn't just a dark rose. It was her pain, it was her guilt, It was her suffering, But whilst she lived, a dark rose a day, and when she cried, she plucked a petal away. It wasn't just the dark roses, neither was it the pain when the last thing on her mind was his face, when the door closes. But all it was, was the love, of a no longer beating heart. A heart filled with innocence, and love for another, who without a doubt, is right now, With another. -BY RUTHIE DE GREAT ON THIS DAY-11/03/2021 NOTE FROM THE POET- I hope you Guys like the poem! tell me what you think about it in the comments!