there's something about 4am — cigarette burning low, bourbon melted to room temp, and the whole world quiet enough to hear your own goddamn conscience. most people run from that silence. i sit in it and let it talk back.
there's something about 4am — cigarette burning low, bourbon melted to room temp, and the whole world quiet enough to hear your own goddamn conscience. most people run from that silence. i sit in it and let it talk back.