Wine is meant to make people drunk.

The existence of wine is to make people drunk, just like the existence of love.

Different kinds, different colors, dazzling and varied, it stands in the eyes of the world for people to choose from.

Some people like to drink the strong kind, so strong that it can burn. He not only likes it strong but also likes drinking it in big gulps, then getting dead drunk. He likes to search for dreams in drunkenness, to love passionately in drunkenness, without regret, even if all that's left upon waking up is pain.

Some people like to drink light wine, not for a passionate intoxication, but for a slow savoring and gradual drunkenness. Not for complete intoxication, but for the feeling of being drunk. He can look at his wine glass and start daydreaming before he even gets drunk. A single glass of wine, he could drink it over a lifetime, or be drunk over a lifetime.

There are those who like the rice wine brewed by country folk. It's very simple and most country folk know how to make it. Though cheap, it has its own unique fragrance, and he likes this flavor, willing to get drunk in this flavor.

There are those who like extremely expensive red wine, the kind that many people can't afford, preferably a one-of-a-kind wine in the world. He might get drunk, or he might not. He enjoys more the feeling of buying it and the envious looks from others.

Then there are some people who go even further; they buy all sorts of wines but don't drink them, just for the sake of collecting. You might say he is extravagant, but it's his choice and none of your business because he is rich enough to afford it.

Actually, wine has its own kind of love.

Regardless of class or color, it doesn't admire itself in solitude, nor does it belittle itself. It simply hopes to find someone who truly knows how to drink it, someone who knows how to appreciate its taste.

The lifelong wish of wine is merely to find a mouth with true sense of taste, a stomach that can truly bear it, and a person who can truly get drunk in happiness.

But wine cannot choose. Most of the time, it's just priced and placed on shelves. It has no choice, it can only leave it to fate.

In fact, a long, long time ago, the love of wine had already died.

Source: The Garden of Wine