Portland was once defined by its roses and hiking trails. There were waterfalls, quiet sanctuaries, and paths through the temperate rainforest. Residents could bask in nature, or spend their time strolling through downtown streets, browsing, shopping, and exploring tiny shops. It wasn’t perfect. The city had its fair share of eccentricities, but that was part of the allure. Portland was weird, not unsafe.
Now those streets are clogged with homeless encampments and shopping carts, littered with glass pipes and needles. The smell of fermented moss has been replaced with urine and meth vapor. Unhoused addicts move from one makeshift shelter to the next, selling and buying
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