Man, Let me tell you about late night drinking. Starting with the urge, more like an itch. A vain attempt to cover up the problems of the day. Rather than simply talking we just run away.

Next comes the drink to quench that whiskey thirst. Either chasing the burn or going straight, sweet intoxication forming as the memories fade.

Then comes the ground. A fact that is never soft but hard as you collide in a blind stupor, unable to control your movements while loosing your temper.

When suddenly the process is reversed. That sweet southern comfort comes back first and your head begins to pound, hammering and beating. Making you regret the decisions of that inebriated mind feeling.

So next time I go out Late Night Drinking I wont be alright. Since nothing good ever happens after midnight.