FOUND by Scott P. on the sidewalk on the east side of Broadway Bridge, Portland, Oregon
Recently, an addiction specialty psychiatrist (“No medications dispensed or stored on site”) opened in the storefront adjacent to the east end of the bridge. It is unclear if this was lost before or after her meeting, 12pm, Thursday, as it was found Friday morning.
FOUND by Karen Berry in Old Town, Portland, Oregon
I found this book with the accomanying inscription to “Diane” in my company’s break room. The note is not addressed to anyone who works at our company, but we’re located in a very rough neighborhood with plenty of methadone clinics. As far as I can make it out, this is the text:
Well here I am again trying to tell myself it’s okay if we part ways. Well, that’s not really what I want, and you know that’s exactly what I do & tell me thats what we are gonna do every time but our plans never work out because after we agree to them you dont follow through stick around to make them, or tell me later you will do what the fuck you want & don’t try to change you.
My plan now is to start Methadone again & get a job or start school. I’m sick of always finding shit out & you deny them & treat me like a stupid nigger bitch. I hope you can find the strength needed to leave me alone so @ least one of us can be happy because I’d be shocked if after so many times you let me down now that you could get it right for once, you care too much about the dope to ever love me
Last summer, while crossing College and Yonge Streets, I looked over at a phone booth. There was something red on top of it and I went to investigate. I’d assumed it was an address book until I opened it up to find a letter written inside of a coiled notebook with a fuzzy bell on the cover. It was someone writing a break-up letter to someone else named “squiggly.” There were lots of phone numbers in the last page of the book and we tried to call the voice mail number in order to return the book, but had no luck. So I took it home.
Found in the gutter on Ramsay Street. I am most struck by the comment about the stove. It seems to say, “Look, I’m not really thrilled about the dope-shooting in my house, but I could live with it if you were just a little more conscientious about turning off the stove when you were done.” Some people are never satisfied. No doubt, if they did turn off the stove, “Me” would start complaining about the needles left lying around.