What makes you think you can be so wonderful? And what makes you think you can be so keen? And what makes me think I can be so hurtful? And what makes me think I can be so mean? Don’t you know I’m sorry I haven’t been the best support? But darling, you know that I love you, and I would build a fort to protect you from the wind.
What makes you think you can be so terrific? And what makes you think you can be so neat? And what makes you think you can be so beatific? And what makes you think you can be so sweet? It’s no stretch to say that I am pulling out my hair. And darling, I’m patiently waiting to fly my ass up there. And I love you.” —Andrew Jackson Jihad, “Fly My Ass” (via colporteur)
Always. That’s the point.
Nothing else matters; If you would not feel
the horrible burden of Time weigh you
down and crush you to the Earth,
Be drunken, continually.
Drunken with what?
With wine, with poetry, or with virtue as you please.
but Be drunken.
And if sometimes on the steps of a palace
or on the green grass in a ditch or in the
dreary solitude of your own room
You should awaken and find the
drunkenness half or entirely gone
Ask of the wind ,of the wave, of the star of
the bird, of the clock of all that flies, of all
that sighs, of all that moves, of all that
sings, of all that speaks, Ask what hour it
is, and wind, wave, star, bird or clock will
“It is the hour to be drunken
Be drunken if you would not be the
martyred slaves of Time.
Be drunken Continually, with wine, with
poetry or with virtue, as you please.”