Will I be getting a lollipop for writing in this?
A journal. Of all the things I could be doing with me time. (Shut up, Wade. I know ye have a few hundred suggestions.) I suppose 'tis better than always having to find a meeting when I'm longing to have a wee jar or three.
I can still remember how it tastes. Numbing. Warming. It's always there, knocking at the back of me head. But I've promised I'll never let it in again, and I don't make rash promises.
Saints, that's a lie. But I don't make them to break them.
I can still remember how it tastes. Numbing. Warming. It's always there, knocking at the back of me head. But I've promised I'll never let it in again, and I don't make rash promises.
Saints, that's a lie. But I don't make them to break them.