breakdown, no

I went to Portland and it was oh so beautiful and I didn't have a breakdown. No I didn't breakdown. Not like the last time, or all the times before. I didn't shut down either, no I didn't, I think I opened up. I went on a run and thought a million things. I ran and ran
And thought about driving fast and spinning out and how it was scary and a little exciting and I thought that maybe it was my therapist from along time ago going the opposite direction on his bike. I had seen him running up there before, along time ago. Hey there!!! I am still alive, can you believe it? Look how far I have come. I ran by a house and perfectly recalled the pattern of carpet on the floor, I had somehow passed out sort of tripping on it, orange and red undulating. The next morning someone gave me a ride home, mike, his dad ran the brewery, he was great at doing impressions, he did a extraordinary one of his mother learning that he was gay. He also did one of me on heroin, It was so sad and true that I always hated him after that. The bike came around again and it was not my old therapist, just a guy on a bike. He wasn't that helpful, I must have seemed hopeless. There are streams and leaves and ferns and the smell of green green green and flowers and birds, and a view. Mountains with snow on top.

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