DJ PRIETO wrote: COme get drunk friday April 28th u know where VIDA VIDA VIDA VIDA
LMAO
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Lahtina wrote: SolitudeAlexander Pope Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground.Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield shade, In winter, fire.Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body, pease of mind, Quiet by day.Sound sleep by night; study and ease Together mixed; sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
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Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield shade, In winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body, pease of mind, Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease Together mixed; sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
This is exactly what I was talking about! Reading just makes me more miserable.
La necedad, el error, el pecado, la tacañería, Ocupan nuestros espíritus y trabajan nuestros cuerpos, Y alimentamos nuestros amables remordimientos, Como los mendigos nutren su miseria.
Nuestros pecados son testarudos, nuestros arrepentimientos cobardes;
Nos hacemos pagar largamente nuestras confesiones, Y entramos alegremente en el camino cenagoso, Creyendo con viles lágrimas lavar todas nuestras manchas.
Sobre la almohada del mal está Satán Trismegisto Que mece largamente nuestro espíritu encantado, Y el rico metal de nuestra voluntad Está todo vaporizado por este sabio químico.
¡Es el Diablo quien empuña los hilos que nos mueven! A los objetos repugnantes les encontramos atractivos; Cada día hacia el Infierno descendemos un paso, Sin horror, a través de las tinieblas que hieden.
Cual un libertino pobre que besa y muerde el seno martirizado de una vieja ramera, Robamos, al pasar, un placer clandestino Que exprimimos bien fuerte cual vieja naranja.
Oprimido, hormigueante, como un millón de helmintos, En nuestros cerebros bulle un pueblo de Demonios, Y, cuando respiramos, la Muerte a los pulmones Desciende, río invisible, con sordas quejas.
Si la violación, el veneno, el puñal, el incendio, Todavía no han bordado con sus placenteros diseños El canevás banal de nuestros tristes destinos, Es porque nuestra alma, ¡ah! no es bastante osada.
Pero, entre los chacales, las panteras, los podencos, Los simios, los escorpiones, los gavilanes, las sierpes, Los monstruos chillones, aullantes, gruñones, rampantes En la jaula infame de nuestros vicios,
¡Hay uno más feo, más malo, más inmundo!
Si bien no produce grandes gestos, ni grandes gritos,
Haría complacido de la tierra un despojo
Y en un bostezo tragaríase el mundo:
¡Es el Tedio! — los ojos preñados de involuntario llanto, Sueña con patíbulos mientras fuma su pipa, Tú conoces, lector, este monstruo delicado, —Hipócrita lector, —mi semejante, —¡mi hermano!
Lahtina wrote: miguel wrote: you should read the whole book of poems (les fleurs du mal) it's super wacky baudelaide looooved ether and it showed, hehe.
Yes, I should read it. However... is it just me or... do you find that the more you read, the more unhappy you are?
i wrote a 30 page paper on les fleurs du mal 10 years ago, that was depressing, lol.
addiction ended up getting the best of him at a relatively young age
Lahtina wrote: Sorry to those who thought this would be about booze. It's about the "blahness of life" - the "blahness" that I'm feeling right now. I just came across this poem by Baudelaire. It put a smile on my face; seems to be exactly what I was looking for. Get Drunk! Always be drunk.That's it!The great imperative!In order not to feelTime's horrid fardelbruise your shoulders,grinding you into the earth,Get drunk and stay that way.On what?On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.But get drunk.And if you sometimes happen to wake upon the porches of a palace,in the green grass of a ditch,in the dismal loneliness of your own room,your drunkenness gone or disappearing,ask the wind,the wave,the star,the bird,the clock,ask everything that flees,everything that groansor rollsor sings,everything that speaks,ask what time it is;and the wind,the wave,the star,the bird,the clockwill answer you:"Time to get drunk!Don't be martyred slaves of Time,Get drunk!Stay drunk!On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"Charles Baudelaire You okay now? Did the blahness of life go away? You do realize that in the time it took you to google Baudelaire, you could've gone to the beer store and gotten a six pack, right?
I didn't google him, it "just fell on my lap". I'm still looking for the booze.
You okay now? Did the blahness of life go away? You do realize that in the time it took you to google Baudelaire, you could've gone to the beer store and gotten a six pack, right?
Don't you see that she is sleeping through the hangover now !
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A person who doesn't make mistakes is unlikely to make anything.
Sorry to those who thought this would be about booze. It's about the "blahness of life" - the "blahness" that I'm feeling right now. I just came across this poem by Baudelaire. It put a smile on my face; seems to be exactly what I was looking for. Get Drunk! Always be drunk.That's it!The great imperative!In order not to feelTime's horrid fardelbruise your shoulders,grinding you into the earth,Get drunk and stay that way.On what?On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.But get drunk.And if you sometimes happen to wake upon the porches of a palace,in the green grass of a ditch,in the dismal loneliness of your own room,your drunkenness gone or disappearing,ask the wind,the wave,the star,the bird,the clock,ask everything that flees,everything that groansor rollsor sings,everything that speaks,ask what time it is;and the wind,the wave,the star,the bird,the clockwill answer you:"Time to get drunk!Don't be martyred slaves of Time,Get drunk!Stay drunk!On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"Charles Baudelaire
You okay now? Did the blahness of life go away?
You do realize that in the time it took you to google Baudelaire, you could've gone to the beer store and gotten a six pack, right?
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Dios nos conceda SERENIDAD para aceptar las cosas que no podemos cambiar, VALOR para cambiar las que podemos, y SABIDURIA para conocer la diferencia.
Il faut être toujours ivre. Tout est là: c'est l'unique question. Pour ne pas sentir l'horrible fardeau du Temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve. Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu, à votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous. Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d'un palais, sur l'herbe verte d'un fossé, dans la solitude morne de votre chambre, vous vous réveillez, l'ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l'étoile, à l'oiseau, à l'horloge, à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est; et le vent, la vague, l'étoile, l'oiseau, l'horloge, vous répondront: "Il est l'heure de s'enivrer! Pour n'être pas les esclaves martyrisés du Temps, enivrez-vous; enivrez-vous sans cesse! De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise."
Bainaman wrote: you ok? you sound like Daeveed when he's about to do something stupid... ETA - I'm kidding! (I just wanted to use the ETA....Never done that before!...LOL) -- Edited by Bainaman at 20:58, 2006-03-12 Where's Daeveed when I need him then?
I can handle a bit more !!!!!! Cheers
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NADIE ES HONESTO EN ESTE MUNDO!! Y NO MIENTAS PORQUE HASTA TU HAS MENTIDO ...
you ok? you sound like Daeveed when he's about to do something stupid... ETA - I'm kidding! (I just wanted to use the ETA....Never done that before!...LOL) -- Edited by Bainaman at 20:58, 2006-03-12
Sorry to those who thought this would be about booze. It's about the "blahness of life" - the "blahness" that I'm feeling right now. I just came across this poem by Baudelaire. It put a smile on my face; seems to be exactly what I was looking for.
Get Drunk!
Always be drunk. That's it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time's horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, Get drunk and stay that way.
On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you:
"Time to get drunk! Don't be martyred slaves of Time, Get drunk! Stay drunk! On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"
VIDA VIDA VIDA VIDA 
Roses are red violets are korny, when I think of you Ohh baby I get horny...
"Most of us fall short much more by omission than by commission."
