drink_ink

what a beautiful place.

Oh dear, if only to visit Stephan, I will be happy with my trip there.

Finally, finally after 15 years of waiting I’ve made it. I love it, but theres something that will eat me away if I live here for too long. I want to fly kits to add colour to the city.

I’ve always dreamed of living here. I think it may come treu after I graduate. There’s something romantic about this city in a very revolutionary way. I think that’s the best way I can describe my longing for this city. I’ll be there for New Years!

Suddenly so many people I know are starting to spring up here. What is it I’m missing out on?

Everything was grey and gritty and sticky.

My family is from here, it’s where I inherited my stubborn pride and blond complexion. Someday I want to take my dad here and kayak the fjords with him.

Went there after prom, and for the first time I was tripping on mushrooms. I love the drinks, and they have hookas.

I grew up near there on a boat. We would go over there to get our pumpkins, corn, honey, pet cows, and get our christmas tree.

Grew up in Portland on a boat on the Willammette river. Moved to NOPO when I was four. Explored the land ever since.

Portland is only love because of how intesne it is. The depth of Portland always surprises me, as does love. The many facets, the good times the bad, all in love and Ptown. Portland is a city of romantics, daydreamers caught in the rain. Look at how impassioned the people are. Rising in the streets and raising their voices, or sitting up in trees, or writing, writing, writing away in their moleskin notebooks. Portland has pockets, they’re made up by our sporting hills, and they keep secrets like love notes. Portland cries itself to sleep, and in the waking morn can brighten to a folly-filled light. Portland has the sensitivity of Caulfied, and the pounce of a tigress. Portland is love.