alienate yourself from the sources of transient happiness unless you wish to be a bleak soul. henceforth, aim for the real deal. dance madly on mountain tops and sharp edges. play tic-tac-toe on mine fields. since the hangover is unavoidable, let the process of inebriation be equal in intensity. drink the morning bitter cup with as much a delight and you have drunk the sweet cup the night before.
 sapience is boring. it's fruits are vapid. it wins no space on paper. it does not open a door to heaven. failing, if this is one's intent, is the most diverting path. one's best source of fun is his own misery.