1 Year, 6 Months, Tomorrow-

Not that I'm keeping track.  Kind of strange how my perception of time changes the longer I'm sober.  I used to think that two weeks, heck, two days, as a reason to celebrate (and drink), and now I don't even think that one year is a long time.  I'm looking forward to two years.

Whiskey is like God.

I refer to whiskey only with the proper name: Whiskey.  Honey.

There is no gender to Whiskey.

There is heavy duty fulfillment and and deep remorseful shame.

There is full in-the-moment bliss and carnal denouement.

Whiskey is my lover.

Whiskey is my penance.

Whiskey is my friend.

Whiskey is my music.

Whiskey is.

And all I've got are empty expectations for my own apotheosis, and drowned out memories of a time that can never be again.