May 15, 2010

for them . for me . for history . its noir


this past thursday, drunk on pbr and the shite of my week and a bitter Timbers loss. i met someone who used to place bass while i read Manic Rose City. back when i was drunk on pbr and creating art in the loft. i used to be wasted before i even got on stage, slurring and barely able to read my own words. they used to call me the barry white of the Mad Hatter Lounge. it is now called East End, and was once the Noir bar.

i walked back over the burnside bridge into downtown, stumbling, stopping for a piss. think nothing had changed as i used to do this all the way through chinatown and the north park blocks. i always loved the light in the park that late at night. i used to stop for a jay if i wasn't to far gone. tonight i was heading for mg and hopefully emily, but that was a no go. i figured i better get a cab, but there was a part of me who wished i was heading to the loft and you would meet me there. or in the park for some inked romance.

it is sometimes strange to see those glimpses into a former life. it is almost like a surreal deja vu!

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