hello. calling all cars. i am in seattle, on business, if you can believe it. staying in a jr. suite...so there's room to meet and greet...jesus, even the tips i give are comped. my, my, my, how times change. i was last here seven years ago, on the slithery snail tail end of a drunken binge that took me all the way up the pacific coast. (you got to get up to get-get down) it's cold and rainy and dark, like i remember. but that's really all i remember. the rest are just flashes: the freeway at night, tall glasses of beer, drive-thrus and jack-in-the-box...wide laughing faces suffused with an orange light. in my mind it's tangled up with berlin, another city i was only half-conscious for. i know that technically speaking, the two places couldn't be more dissimilar but in each one i happened to form a dangerous alliance with a big girl with big hands, both of whom said they were in love with me--one while she leaned forward drunkenly and burned a hole in my polyester shirt and the other while she meticulously carved her initials into the soft flesh of my stomach with the sharp and dirty corner of a copper sheet.

TE ...the scar's still there, barely. i wish i knew what the letters stood for...theresa something, i think.

in my mind they've come to mean "the end".

i was so fucked up, so desperate with self-hatred. i offered my body to any half-assed artist to do with what they wanted...

coming back now feels like i'm returning to the scene of the crime. i know i've changed, but the question is, how much? perhaps i'm like pioneer square, where new facades cover ancient, crumbling edifices. i feel like i've stepped into a dirty mirror world in which the past and the present float around each other like ghosts. i'm the lost and lonely scientist, painstakingly chipping away at the excess rock that surrounds the fossilized moment of some poor, dumb creature's death. only in this case, the creature is myself.

and the more i chip away, the more rock there is...

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