Whiskey, bourbon, sour mash. A potent drug made from the hill people of the Appalachians. A relief for the many downtrodden. An escape from the every day horrors of family, work, and the stresses of life. The hair of the dog. Grand Father's medicine.
Why is this juice so potent? As I drink and write these words- I dream of the demons within. The day has become night. The night has become 2 in the morning. And still, I sit waiting for the ride. The ride to nowhere. The ride that takes me back to my adolescense. The ride that reminds me of who I am.
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