Tuscany Stories

Somewhere along the way, I decide that drinking is the best way to cope – best being the operative word. Sure, I go to sleep happily sedated in some whiskey-induced high that distorts the shit my life seems to be wallowing in. It brings out all the things I wish I could be. Makes them amusing and in a way, entertaining. Problem is, the shit is still there every morning, stagnating, bedside, with a middle finger in my face...