“One must always be drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of Time that breaks your shoulders and bends you to the earth... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please. But get drunk.”
— Baudelaire
in augustine’s confessions (1.5.6), “angusta est domus animae meae, quo venias ad eam: dilatetur abs te. ruinosa est: refice eam” (“narrow is the house of my soul for you to enter it: let it be enlarged by you. it is in ruins: restore it”).
If you can’t pick between the white rose and the red rose, I’ll just bring both for you. Maybe we can take a slow walk through the night, letting the cool air brush past us while some random song plays softly in our heads.