The blooming of our drunkenness, it’s bearing fruit. Its yield. Bountiful. Plentiful.
Our ideas, carried in a mad flow. Our enthusiasm. Our love of film! Of music! Of books!
The signs and wonders that keep us alive. That make life worth living! These life buoys … These oxygen masks …. As our ship sinks. As our plane crashes.
Drunken recommendations of books! Of films! Of music! That we’ll forget. Unless we write them down … But we’ll never be able to read our own drunken handwriting …
Drunken explications of film plots. Of novels. Drunken renditions of favourite songs.
A mad drunken seeing of connections. A drunken discernment of patterns …
We’re drunken enthusiasts. Drunken culture-devourers. We need succour. We need something for our souls. To keep our souls alive.
Getting drunk and watching epic Eastern European gloomfests …
Work in Progress 