Drunken, and not with wine.
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again.
Like a drunk, but not.
Why do we allow, or rather, desire our minds and souls to get fuzzy, blanketed over, and disintegrated? Not physically with alcohol (though it is very similar), but by the way we live and think everyday. We don't want to care about anything truly important because that would mean we would have to feel responsible. We would have to expect more out of ourselves and then we couldn't be content and pleased with our own mediocrity. And so we drain the metaphorical cup. We make ourselves mentally drunk to forget, to let loose our baser desires, and to be happy with ourselves.