Ernest Hemingway, I wish I could shake your hand. The constant drunk that you were(and the constant one that I am), you inspire me to the great and bitter end of my being to aspire to be as nearly as passionate and as great of a writer I think of you to be. The taste of fine Whiskey helping me remember of times that have come to pass. Each event remembered turned into a new elaborate story because if they had been sober, they wouldn’t have been worth remembering. Sitting alone in my quiet dim-lit room, the scent of liquor seizing the air, and a story waiting to be created. To me, its exhilarating. If Im not there, its safe to say Im somewhere sitting on a bar-stool with a constant fire under my ass. Cheers to you, sir!
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 23:14:08 +0000
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