Woe is paralytic. I also detect a drop mention of broad-mindedness toward arched dynamics or versions of it, even when love centers on the numbed one with a body of rare happiness like popsicle rose gold in outer space — 

all of this implicit in the simplest rejoinder to the proudest to be stupid Dionysian. 

Dionysian = garish brocade with puffy energy, cute, can’t think straight. 
Space in theory.