brosedshield: (fine arts and gun club)
Lifted from IM conversation:

Me:
     How did Hemmingway managed to write when he drank so much? *

Lavinia *seriously*:
     Hemmingway had lots of practice

D  *agrees*:
     Lots and lots and lots of practice.
     Also, I think you have to have issues

* * *

I love friends. :-)

*Note: I have discovered that after about one glass of wine I become incapable of writing anything but REALLY abstract, lyrical poetry and/or fic. And if The Sun Also Rises is to believed and translated into reality, Hemmingway was at least tipsy constantly...*shakes head in amazement* 

brosedshield: (tea then larceny)
Let's Play the Drunk-and-Miserable Game )

* * *

This poem comes from when I was a good deal more sad and lonely in Spain than I am now. And also from the fact that there is no good way to talk about drinking alone that doesn't come off as depressing (I don't like going outside my house, and then becoming intoxicated around strangers whose language I'm not even 95% effective in; why is that more socially acceptable than having a few glasses of wine in one's apartment? SEE, EVEN THERE, IT LOOKS DEPRESSING.)

Apparently, I was planning to make this into a song. Hmmm, now where did that melody go...

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