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I came to Portland with a nostalgic expectation, with the kind of vision that varied and became more than I could have ever imagined.

Perpetually, I am discovering cunning utopias between the streets with complicated reputations. Complicated heresy.

All I had to do was show up to be welcomed into the historic theaters, the coffins, and the cemeteries. 

With a whimsical gait or, staring out of the window, the flowers dance in my eyesight. Once, a solitary and, quite healthy sunflower waved at me from the median on a highway. 

Often, I consider plucking bouquets of freeway Daffodils. And, poofy Queen Anne’s Lace along the busy and rural roads. But, NO! I can’t, their beauty doesn’t deserve to be disturbed by human disrespect.

The sky and the moon are closer here. There have been times when I awaken at three o'clock at night to see the moon peeking into the window illuminating my room with her dull-white luminescent glow. 

It was just like scenes in a picture book I loved as a kid. Beloved Goodnight Moon. Back then, I used to pretend I was the little bunny in the bed. Looking out that window. Whispering good night to the quiet and sleepy elements that made such a cozy storybook room.

It’s only happened to me here.

I followed the breadcrumbs from such memories to a bookstore with all horror reads and followed a sister spirit to a witches’ retreat hosted in a straight-out-of-the-woods cottage. 

I’ve eaten pizza with Sasquatch and can’t eat enough shwarma. Still, it doesn’t replace the tacos in LA.

The city has its woes yet they paid the price with rebellion. I treasure the sacrifice and see the unbroken vision of taking action. ACAB!

Whatever air stagnation is, the air is often clear and the cherry blossoms still unfolded and sweetly farted on my birthday. 

The markets still bustled and the food carts still create food art.

If it isn’t obvious yet, it’s taken me two years to confess, that I am having an amorous entanglement with an entire place. It’s so big. Yet, it feels like so rainy day coffee shop with a book cozy. 

Even when embraced by a bout of despair, there is something about simply looking through video clips of my times by the water here to keep alive my gratitude to be in discomfort someplace beautiful, a place absolutely worth starting over for. 

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mobrien@michellehalloween.com