Night Life In Portland

Chapter 2: The Truth is Not Hard to Understand

Aww damn it, you’re back. Why are you back? Do you really think I will tell you about Parker’s reaction to the whole “I deal drugs!” conversation? I am glad you are smart. I’d rather tell smart people about my life the stupid ones. Stupid people think what I am saying is about them. This is why I don’t write to stupid people. So yeah. I’ll tell you about what Parker said.... later.

I want to tell you why I deal drugs, why I am cop. I wanna tell you about how much of an angel I am, yet such a fucking monster deep down inside.

I feel you need to understand where the fuck I am coming from, or this isn’t going to make any fucking sense, ya dig.

I am not a Portland raised kid. I was not born in Oregon. Nor even on the west coast. I am a southerner. I got that rebel heart beating in my chest. My accent has disappeared over the years, a result of living in the Northwest for so long. But I still have the good ole Confederate flag hanging over my bed. We hang the American flag outside and mine can’t join it. Stupid stereotypes.

I am from Knoxville, Tennessee. The Vols kick ass and the Ducks... actually, I think I like the Ducks more.... Shh, its a secret. I left Tennessee at the age of 11 and lived in Oregon since. And I moved alone. My parents are dead. And I saw all of it.

That is one thing no one can ever take back. The memory, the blood, the gunshots. The death. Nope, that’s going to stay with me forever.

So, you wanna know why I have a fascination with guns. Its because I know they can change someone’s life so drastically, so instantly. And, I’ll tell you, its feels amazing to hold that kind of power in your hands, so amazing.

This is my story. My life, no joke. Its really this fucked up. So get ready. It goes all downhill from here.