A single glass of wine: the difference is striking.
I have The feeling of being an out-of-tune guitar, incapable of resonating, with a certain passive enjoyment for this status of uselessness.
Alcohol weighs on souls.
It nails the consciousness to the ground
Lower than earth
An ethanol prison rising around us.
The nights are poor and the streams dry.
Alcohol is a heavy, slow march,
Laborious in a prison-canyon,
A repetitive, infinite landscape unfolding from the same self-generated spaces where the soul traps itself,
At best, it is infinitely bored there,
from glass to glass,
from night to night.
Notes & Silence 
Cheers – from the morning after my Friday night pint of beer.
It has always struck me as odd that monks brew some of the most potent poisons. Fancy a Green Chartreuse?
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne
oh yes ! Definitely
I live near the Belgian Border,
and when you come to France,
I’ll take you to Belgium !
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne
You have just reminded me that « Belgium » was a swear word in The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, if memory serves…
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne
Ah…. the most famous book back when I was a student…if memory serves…
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne
Clearly, you know where to find your towel.
J’aimeAimé par 1 personne