Monday, January 28, 2008

Secret Service No. 9

Whoever find this…

You shall not repeat this information to anyone.

I will not tell you my name. You can call me number nine

I will tell you a little bit about myself.

I was born orphan in Germany.

Since I had no parents, the government took me in.

I studied in a special academy in a small town in Germany so that I could be useful for the country until I was 20. And then the government assigned me various jobs in various locations in Europe. In 1942, the Nazi government sent me to this small town, Multnomah, in Portland Oregon to set up a station to contact the Japanese agents in North America. The war ended approximately 3 years after.

I was asked to stay in this town until I receive further orders from my country.
That was 30 years ago.

The first few years here were hard, but peaceful, I didn’t have anyone, but I’ve always lived like that. I knew I was forgotten, and I thought I could take what I’ve known with me to the grave.

But one day I got a contact from my old division, only that it wasn’t the government contacting me anymore. There were refugee agents scattered around this country that were forgotten by my own country.
I decided to take them in.

Many things happened after that, my little place in this mundane town becomes a shelter for people like me.

Until recently, we remained unnoticed and lead a normal quiet life, but now is time to run again.

I don’t know if I can come back here ever again, there is no one to leave my secrets to. So I’m leaving this with you, stranger. You probably found this by following the address I kept in my boots; I kept some writings in my cigarette box so that no one will find it. I kept different portions of recordings in different places, but I don’t think they will all be discovered.

I know I’m taking a risk, but I had to tell someone how I lived the past three decades.

I’m sorry if this brings you any trouble.




Fat City Café


This café is my time machine.

It stayed the way it was since it first opened in this neighborhood.

I guess if you stayed in time machine long enough

Your personal time stopped as well

That’s what happens to the people here


I don’t really have a past to go back

So I meet people from the past here

I meet up with other agents in this café

Sometimes talk business, sometimes just talk

But like this café and this town,

At times I feel like I can’t seem to out-live these past


This is where I first met Daisy too

She was confident, distanced, but professional

It took us a while to find trust with each other

She will later on become my only friend

You know it’s hard to find a friend among people like us







The bridge is right next to the main street

But the most dangerous place is always the safest place

Although I try to have a normal life

There are times I need a quiet place to negotiate with those people who disturb that normal life

This is where I go

The location itself scares them, so I never had to take care of anyone here

That’s good because I didn’t want to anyway




Gabriel Park


This place my temple of peace

If I come here at the right time, there will be children everywhere

They reminded me when things are simple

People walking in front of the setting sun

They reminded me when things are beautiful

For a few hours I spend here

I could take me out of myself

And live for a while






We used to hide people here in the basement

People are less suspicious if it’s underneath a church

After Daisy came, she helped me to filled the basement up with concrete

So some of our secrets will always be buried


Sometimes I go upstairs as well

Because I don’t always feel good about what I did







One of these houses will be my home

I’m just your good quiet neighbor who occasionally has guests

You can call this the headquarters

But really, this is just a place for people to start anew

At least that was what I thought this place would be in the beginning


The day they tracked Daisy down was the day I knew I was being too naïve

I left the house the very next day






There used to be massages on the tree trunks

We discard them once it’s read

Like cigarettes

That was the first thing we learned in the academy

Pay attention to details





I never knew her name

She told me to call her Daisy

She was usually more careful than me, smarter

We never talked about what we did or what we know

That was the rule

But I know if I wanted to know, I could find out everything about her

I just didn’t


She was probably 37 when she died

The police said a truck hit her on the street

But I knew better

There is no funeral for people like us; we remain unnoticed even after we are gone

But I pay my respect anyway

Since Daisy didn’t technically have a identity

She didn’t have a family to claim her body

Therefore there was not going to be a grave for her either


I set up a tombstone where she died

It was small, almost unnoticeable, but I know it could leave tracks if there are people wanting to find me

So I had to leave



I don’t know when or how these recordings of incidents will be revealed

It’s all up to you, whoever you are.

Now I am running again, with this age, God only knows how long I will last

I don’t really care anymore.

I just want someone to know that I existed; I played a part in this world.






Sunday, January 27, 2008

Gabriel Park

I like it here
Sometimes it’s so cold in the winter it’s hard to walk around here
But during the summer this park is gorgeous
I never wanted to feel my age
So I always try to climb the hills

I like coming here to watch the sun set
It takes me out of myself
These people in front of the setting sun
They are beautiful
I want them all to know that


You confess here
The church is just another place in this small village that makes you feel exclusive
You have to be one of us to be here

But I go there sometimes
When I want to feel like I’m in a group of something
They built the community center near by recently

Another place for people with families to go
Not for people like me
But children are nice
If I had a kids I would’ve take then here
And it would be nice



Sometimes I stood underneath the bridge and watch
The world goes by in front of my face

And I have so much
Then I come back to reality again
And I have nothing


There are homes everywhere here
That was the point
This is where people live

I live in a house by myself
But that is not to say I’m not homeless

To feel belong is such a redundant desire
I like my freedom, I do
I like to go unnoticed
Because the only thing more pathetic than not having attention is to scream for one

Time Machine

Fat City Café is my time machine
People here know me
The first time I walked in, I thought I was in a movie set
The world starts moving backwards, to the 70’s
I guess if you stayed in the time machine long enough
Your personal time stop as well
Like the people who work here

I have no past to go back
I wonder if these people understand the feeling of not seeing future
Or if they could even recognize it

The town will remain the same, just like the café
It’s just the way they want it


It's hard during the winter
i walk the night, and i see the moist in the air froze

sun goes down, darkness comes,
slowly frosting from the outer edge,
the solid part gets bigger and bigger,
thicker and thicker
preserving the life within

the vibrant colors peeks out from the foggy ice
trapped in a crystal
waiting to break free once the day comes back


Daisy was my friend
maybe my only true friend
She was about medium size, beige, with the smoothest hair
she walks fast
sometimes she's so fast that I couldn't keep up
but she always knew where to go.

she will walk ahead of me, sniffing her way through the streets,
minding the cars, marking her territory
doing all that while still paying attention for any food that is on
her way
and when she notice I couldn't keep up with her speed
she'll stop her tracks and looks back towards me,
waiting for me to catch up
sometimes i wasn't sure who leading who
I guess we had a equal relationship

a truck took her life

she was too short, and the driver was going too fast
i remember she barked in pain after the hit, right in the middle of
the street
It didn't take long for her to leave, like about 20 minutes,
I thought i should've walk faster
maybe I could've stop the accident

i miss her

my village

What are you and  why are you here?


It's a quiet small neighborhood just outside of the city, with trees everywhere, happy people walking their dogs and a few business. Cold. Instead of water, snow drizzles in the air.
But people don't ever seem to care. It is a calm little suburban where people are mostly happy with their lives. Great place to raise a kid. I work at fat city cafe, one of the only few cafes in the neighborhood.

Every morning I go to the store and open the doors for hungry people looking for some old fashioned American breakfast. And every morning 7:15 sharp, she's there.
Hair tied up at the front, the rest of the hair can only be describe as "crazy". Her face is always covered with thick make up, there are always at least five colors on her face. Her clothes remain the same thing since the 80s, broad shoulders and tight waist. The looks are completed by a shiny red leather heels.

She shows up everyday, she stands in front of the door for a while, until she finishes her cigarette, and then she walks in. Ordering the same thing every single day. Coffee and hash-browns. And she always has a hand full of cash to pay. ...


For some reason blogger won't let me access to my own blog, so here is the new one.