I am coming to the conclusion that Portland is about the closest to a geographical mind reboot as anything. Every time I am here I can just feel layers sliding off, or changing the way they were arranged. Time holds still, but mostly is the same behind the curtain. Things make sense in Portland despite strange weather, and stranger road systems. I'm not quite sure how to put it, but this place is healthy. Like all the moss that covers everything. I think that fits. A Mossy-ness. The sun is setting on this particular puzzle despite it is still left uncompleted. There will be time to revisit it, but for now, I will place it in its own particular box of which I have collected many and should have one that will fit perfectly. There still is much to do, and having to figure out this and other puzzles on the side is not going to help find the rhythm. Soak back into black, lean against orange, let light blue be the guide through the woods.
(Dear future Sam, Draw this for understanding)
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