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Shot yesterday morning, on the worst hangover day ever.

Permis de construire (Paris, 14 novembre 2015).

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A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.

Paul Cézanne

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We're breaking promises we thought we could keep we trigger avalanches unknowingly we travel in and out we take off we land we live in airports like we don't have a plan this is a journey and we call it home and when it stops we're feeling miserable well we're breaking promises we thought we could keep we trigger hurricanes unwillingly it's our fault when it all breaks into everyone's lives but are we really to blame?

It's like a pain in the chest despair hangover and ecstasy so many people around we disappoint and let down and though we're trying our best despair hangover and ecstasy despair hangover and ecstasy.

We're breaking promises we thought we could keep we trigger avalanches unknowingly oh we're not so different from convicts on the run freedom could kill us but we'd rather go on this is a journey and we wanna go far they say we're selfish but this plane is on fire we're breaking promises we thought we could keep we trigger hurricanes unwillingly it's our fault when it all breaks into everyone's lives still we would do it again.

It's like a pain in the chest despair hangover and ecstasy so many people around we disappoint and let down and though we're trying our best despair hangover and ecstasy our only mission, our destiny.

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Paintings in Detail: Still Life Paintings, part I

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She definitely can't help being stunning.

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And please don’t talk to me I fall in love so easily please don’t look at me please just let me be please don’t care about who I am or how I feel please don’t ask me if it’s real.

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Like most of people probably, inspiration used to come over me at the darkest hours of the night, at a time I was supposed to sleep for a while already. Back then, I used to run a blog I liked to consider filled with quite well-written-even-if-a-bit-vain posts. Years after, here's a Tumblr barely updated with pretty pictures and lovely quotes and nice songs, and nothing more. For all that, did I become someone silly, someone shallow, someone who is no longer able to write her feelings down or to wittily depict her world? Is there a magic trick to get my urge to write things back and fill my sleepless nights with something beautiful again?

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I would not say that I still love him. I would only say I still miss him.

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Damaged people that have weaknesses and secrets and problems and jealousy and spite and love and hate – that’s humanity.

Cillian Murphy, about being Thomas Shelby.

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'Palais des Lumières' defined - watch today's ELIE SAAB Haute Couture show now on www.eliesaab.com