The walls look like tales from old men's basements; bricked with their old photos and glazed wood wall fixtures. portland is beautiful. my mind hasn't attempted to hide in a closet once since i've been here.

have pictures when i get back.
i miss ophie.


terra you are so beautiful. i stare at you now, with your shirt rolled and your bangs chopped together from the humidity and sweat. whatever you're doing has nothing to do with me, yet my toes rest uncomfortably touching your computer. you will not push me away. i love you.

be back sunday.