Its been about a year since I trekked out to Portland, Oregon to see what its like to live on the street, out of a backpack, on cheese sticks and Starbucks frapps alone.
I think its both entirely amazing and entirely annoying that the mind remembers events, random events , about a certain time or place so accurately.
Almost to the date.
You know, the snow starts melting, and spring rolls around and you are automatically transported back to a place, a time.
Smells do that too. A certain perfume, the smell of the street, cigarettes smashed up in a corner somewhere.
All of these bring back memories. And this week, I've been thinking alot about this place and these people. I was washing the dishes last night, and thought of mount Hood, out there, in the distance. I was in that semi conscience state last night, the one right before sweet slumber and strawberry came into my mind, the boy with the lined eyes.
The sound of rain or my favorite scarf wrapped so confidently around my head, proving my west cost state of mindedness.
All of these memories.
Ahhh, time and the things it takes with it.