Growing up in West "By God" Virginia in the late '90s was a juvenile car crash of discovery. With a newly acquired license and a hand-me-down '85 Ford Tempo, interstate road maps connected the lines of a rapidly receding childhood. People were dying. Friends were sucking each other into a drug-filled adolescence, and the middle ground balanced itself on a spinning top. Cancer killed with a fog upon grandmother's eyes. Divorce shattered lives not worth living. The only way out of it all was a hastily dug rabbit hole into a city daydream.
