shrine to the prophet of americana

Walked to a bar that was really too far (30 mins) for regular patronage but I had a pinball thing there. Passed through an area...

Walked to a bar that was really too far (30 mins) for regular patronage but I had a pinball thing there. Passed through an area I hadn’t before, one side of the street was sloped a bit such that it was a showcase of pre- and immediately post-war middle class (= modern upper middle class) housing on uneven lots, the kind the town I grew up in was full of, the kind I later realized my maternal grandfather made a living building

Great gardens, realized passing through here was a decent time-shifted equivalent of the closer eastside neighborhoods I had explored on my way to pinball before when I first came to Portland.

I say I’m like a reverse pathetic fallacy, my vibe follows the health of my vision of the ideal life, it’s more than periods, I’m something like a geomancer, I’m a lot more vital when I’m on ground I’m attuned to, and oh boy here.

Vital to understanding where I’m at is that I experienced the last decade like they got their teeth around Br'er Rabbit’s throat, they were shaking him back and forth by the neck, and then he was spinning through the air with everything a blur and when he gets his bearings he realizes he landed in the briar patch