The alcohol made me stupid in the way that fear can do.
With the alcohol I feel my prefrontal cortex go into standby mode and my primitive self put on its party shoes.
The whiskey was the amber that brought resolve to my soul.
Say what you want about alcohol, when times are good it becomes an updraft that raises the soul heavenwards.
I am always at a crossroads between adventure and shyness, at times the alcohol is a sensible choice to give my adventurous self a boost.
You can be drunk on fear and alcohol just the same, addicted to rumour as much as rum, yet words can also elevate the soul and a gin can be just the tonic one needs.