This isn't the end...

I've always come back to portland oregon as a safe house but it's no longer that place. I could say it's the people who have moved in making it more douchey or its the landmarks that continue to leave the skyline or the mediocrity that plagues it's hallows but truly it's me. There was a time in which I would lick my wounds and saddle up with old friends commensurate drink lots laugh it off and strut free clear of whatever ailed me. I've come to learn  that not only am I entering into a new chapter of my life as well, I  understand some of those things do not appeal as much as they once did nor are they an attractive mistress that swayed my sorrows.
I have been through hell, truly. No one cares. People have their own shit to worry about and some of them have had kids with other set of problems which do not correlate to drinking the sorrows into oblivion like days of yore. The realization is we all get old and tired of the same shit day in and out, some of us anyway. The old justifies nothing and no one. When you get to be this old . . .something has to give. I give. I am not the same nor require the same. The people I know are just that. If i want different I have to make it happen and so it stands to be said Portland Oregon is dead like elvis. Curtains are closing, the sun is going down and credits are rolling. For a while I couldn't see myself anywhere else. I thought this was my home but it's a hideaway where misery throws parties. I want the sun on my face and happy people who are moving towards better everyday. I'm not making excuses. I'm not judging, maybe a bit I can't help it. Can't see myself falling down the rabbit whole in beautiful bliss. It was good for what it was. I'm glad I got to experience this part of my life with a good story to tell. I'll just excuse myself from the table and thank you all for a lovely evening.