The only time I was close to being drunk was in my very early twenties, among my parents, next to my fiance. It was a lovely summer evening in Ankara, Turkey, where I finished schooling as he had. He and I were enjoying our corner in the balcony of my parents’ living room over a cup of wine. I remember becoming overly “happy” – for which there is a different term, I know. What I could have possibly seen as problems back then, had left room for much laughter, most, originating from within me, not at a joke or teasing. I could use that innocent joy today, for days to come, for that matter. Don’t get me wrong: There is a wonderful factor outside me that makes me very happy, in fact. I only mean for myself, once I close the door to my home, leaving myself behind any and all aspects of the outside world (minus the e-connections). New realizations today make me long for a sense of being sedated. Hence, the reason as to why the following quote has gotten its place here right now. Thank you, Ray Bradbury! Thank you, dear reader, for listening!
You must stay drunk on writing
so reality cannot destroy you.
From: Zen in the Art of Writing
hülyaswritings 
THAT quote is something I am going to have to agree with. I got drunk a year back, all alone, and read a whole thick book. Totally remember that book even now 🙂
That apart, such ‘internally driven’ flash of happiness is rare indeed. In fact, I don’t know what else could bring it over. Maybe a new book of poetry for me.
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It pleases me to know you have agreed, dear Tatsat (and that your condition from a year ago helped you with remembering the entire book you have read). I find that also “such ‘internally driven’ flash of” sadness – while not rare with me at all – is a motivation to poeticize, would you agree? I would love to read a book of poetry written by you. You have a keen insight into matters of life.
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