>tfw no muse
They suck so bad, trying to rip off Radiohead and Queen.
>>8604022
Dante saw Beatrice twice in his entire life.
No excuses!
>>8604055
She must have been a divinely qt.
>>8604022
Whiskey is my muse. A terrible muse that kills my mind and my liver. I am such a horrible person, and whiskey exacerbates my strange behavior. I feel like human trash, and my greatest achievement is the collasal failure that is my life. Every relationship i have shattered. Shameful and terrible is this grave and soul annihilating muse. Drunken shame and confusion are the only constants in my life..
>tfw no booze
>tfw no moose
just use butterfly
>tfw no snooze
>>8604326
>whiskey
>not wine
spot the pleb
Some for the glories of this world; and some
Sigh for The Prophet's Paradise to come;
Ah, take the cash and let the credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum
And much as Wine has played the Infidel
And robbed me of my robe of doorbell, well ...
I often wonder what the vintners buy
One half so precious as the stuff they sell
For some we loved, the loveliest and best
That from His rolling vintage Time has pressed,
Have drunk their glass a round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest
But helpless pieces in the game He plays
Upon this chequer-board of Nights and Days
He hither and thither moves, and checks ... and slays
Then one by one, back in the Closet lays
"The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it."
>tfw no cruise
>tfw no shoes
>tfw no jews
Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss,
Beauty? Your gaze, divine and infernal,
Pours out confusedly benevolence and crime,
And one may for that, compare you to wine.
You contain in your eyes the sunset and the dawn;
You scatter perfumes like a stormy night;
Your kisses are a philtre, your mouth an amphora,
Which make the hero weak and the child courageous.
Do you come from the stars or rise from the black pit?
Destiny, bewitched, follows your skirts like a dog;
You sow at random joy and disaster,
And you govern all things but answer for nothing.
You walk upon corpses which you mock, O Beauty!
Of your jewels Horror is not the least charming,
And Murder, among your dearest trinkets,
Dances amorously upon your proud belly.
The dazzled moth flies toward you, O candle!
Crepitates, flames and says: "Blessed be this flambeau!"
The panting lover bending o'er his fair one
Looks like a dying man caressing his own tomb,
Whether you come from heaven or from hell, who cares,
O Beauty! Huge, fearful, ingenuous monster!
If your regard, your smile, your foot, open for me
An Infinite I love but have not ever known?
From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make, — fay with the velvet eyes,
Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, the minutes less leaden?
>tfw no blues
>>8604458
That's a good thing.
The only reason I ever want a 'muse' is so I can bury my face in her ass.
>>8604469
that's why i posted the smiling nihilist nazi writer man.
>no one to send me lewds...
>tfw no "true"s
>tfw no new hardware to use
>tfw no fuse
>>8604491
>tfw none understand this compliment
>tfw no trips