i just walked to the elliott smith memorial/shrine on 11th and division. (i live on 23rd/division). i brought my little crafty thing i made out of a photograph, a manila envelope, stick on letters, and some flowers i picked along the way. i wrote my favorite quote on it �i�m taking the cure so i can be quiet wherever i want.� i used to write that on my arm every single day when i was 19.

when i got there, there were a few people standing looking at everything.. there was a lot more stuff than i expected. letters, flowers, candles, pictures. a big sheet of paper taped to the wall where people wrote things. someone carved �elliott� into a pumpkin. i left my thing there with a candle. it�s at a 5 way intersection, and the diagonal street that meets 11th/division is called �elliott st� and someone taped a �smith� underneath the sign. i took some pictures of everything. it was at least as pretty as the pictures i saw online of the memorial in LA.

my favorite thing someone made was a picture of him with the quote �i�m never gonna know you now, but i�m gonna love you anyhow.� that made me sad. i can�t remember the last time i cared about someone�s death. the only person i�ve ever known who died was my grandma.

sam went to high school with him, here in portland. they are (were) almost the same age. sam counts him as the 16th person he�s lost to heroin, directly or indirectly.

i�m sitting in my room on the floor, because we took my desk to storage. almost everything is packed besides my computer, record player, and some random papers. i can�t believe i�m going to be homeless in 2 days. living out of a suitcase indefinitely. it made me most scared to put my photo albums in a box. i wish i could take them with me, i feel naked without them. everything else i can do without.