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[07 Dec 2005|07:21pm]
when u cant sleep, u miss out on more than a few z's. u miss out on the little moments happening all around u. u feel wiped out, not quite in sync with yr friends and family. if yr not getting a full night's sleep, talk to yr dr about AMBIEN--the #1 prescribed sleep aid in amerikkka for more than 6 years. AMBIEN, taken at bedtime, helps u fall asleep faaaaast, stay asleep looooooonger, and wake in the morning feeling rested, not strung out. talk to yr dr about AMBIEN. or call 1-800-PP5-DO-DO.
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[28 Nov 2005|10:52pm]
I’m sorry, but I couldn’t call. I tried, then I hung up when you said “hello?” I hadn’t planned on doing that, at least not consciously, but I freaked out when I heard your voice and it sounded exactly as I’d imagined. OK, not exactly, cause no matter how hard you try you can never really hear someone’s voice in your head. Even if you’ve known the person for a thousand years, there’s always something missing when you try to imagine him or her saying something. It's like we go through these dress rehearsels in our imagination, but instead of actors we've got a cast of poorly painted marionettes.

Someone needs to invent sex dolls with voice boxes and strings you could pull to flap their mouths open and shut, so they could whisper all the right things, the kinds of words we want so badly to hear.

“Hello?” There was emphasis on the question mark: it was vaguely mocking, serving to drive home the truth of my audaciousness. “Hello?" -- as in, "who the fuck do you think you are, calling me?”

As for me, I already explained how this is the thousandth time we’ve met. At least I'd gotten as far as writing about how I could already hear your voice in my head, like the soundtrack to a movie in my mind where I'm walking across the screen (hopefully a drive in movie screen, so I'll look like a giant!) and I (closeup) look up and see you (pan right!) standing on the curb, or leaning against a doorway with a scarf wrapped tightly around your face, so at first, I can't quite tell if its you (but really, I know!)

The wind blows. You’re looking out from under your bangs. I’m wearing my natty Stone Cold T-shirt and orange trenchcoat. The sun dips dramatically behind a cloud.

but not too dramatically, not to the point where it's stupid or lame.

We look each other in the eye. In that second, we meet in a strange halfway place, your eyes meeting mine like a cat's shining thru darkness, squinting, just about to leap, or the unblinking stare of a child.

You’re leering, beautifully. I feel like singing.

Maybe I hung up because in all my scenarios, I never thought your first words to me would be, “Hello”.

I always imagined you’d say, “It’s you.”
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Two weeks ago (I AM COMPLETELY ALONE):

ME: CKCU, Five O Clock Shadow.

CREEPY: what is that 'Five O Clock Shadow', is that some kind of perfume?

ME: uh, its the name of this radio show.

CREEPY: it sounds like the name of a perfume.

ME: ...the perfume of good music, maybe?

CREEPY: HAHAHA. so what are you doing up this late playing music.

ME: I guess I must really like music.

CREEPY: this music is some pretty creepy shit, what is it you're playing?

ME: Deathprod, the songs called 'Dead People's Things'.

CREEPY: whose that, where're they from?

ME: they're a band from Norway.

CREEPY: you know, this is some pretty weird creepy shit to be playing up so late. what're you doing up at this time of night, anyhow, playing music like that? ya know, i've listened to some pretty creepy shit in my day, you know weird stuff like Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' HAHAHAH, but this is some pretty creepy shit.

ME: ...

CREEPY: does it bother you that you just said your full name on air and that ANYONE could have heard, and now they know your full name, and ANYONE could have been listening and heard that and you don't know whose out there?

ME: um. [horrified pause] ya, I guess that is pretty creepy.

CREEPY: its a full moon out tonight [makes wolf noises]

ME: ...um.

CREEPY: hahahaha. well, goodnight.

[runs to lock doors]

Sat. overnighter:

the studio sound shuts off sometime during the show so that, despite all my efforts to 'fix' it (IE: kicking the equipment, swearing profusely) you can only hear music playing whilst wearing headphones; the room is eerily silent. in the middle of an extended psychedelic track off the Boredom's 'Seadrum' EP I'm disturbed by a burst of noise. I take off my headphones and - yes - the studio sound is back on but it isn't the Boredoms I hear, oh no, the room is throbbing with gruff shrieks and heavy metal riffs! I frantically search for the source of the noise, I check the turntables, the CD players, I press buttons and push levers, but I can't pinpoint the source, there is in fact no where the song could be coming from. then, just as suddenly, the song dissolves from whence it came and the room returns to total silence. I fade down the Boredoms track and ask if anyone out there just heard any metal boom from their radio, or am I crazy, and if so/not please phone in? no one phones. King and I thereafter refer to this incident as 'THE GHOST'.

Sun. overnighter (...THE NEXT NIGHT):

MORBID TALES: A METAL FANZINE! appear all over the station. Jen and I read it outloud on-air amidst giggles. there are no more strange occurences or creepy phone calls.. have the spirits been appeased?

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[22 Nov 2005|04:21pm]
Date: Nov 22, 2005 11:54 AM
Subject: flying from darkness

Reply | Reply to all | Forward | Print | Add sender to Contacts list | Trash this message | Report phishing | Show original | Message text garbled?

The name Esthero, she has explained, was inspired by a character named
Esther spotted in a late-night movie on television: Her last line is, "If I
am to be the hero, then I cannot fly from darkness."
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