it's 11:12 pm, on September 17, 2006 - ghost.

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So last night, though I didn't record it when I woke up crying at five am, I dreamed I was the ghost of a wronged man, attempting to contact people related to my previous life in an attempt to close unfinished business and settle emotional accounts. I was nearly completely unsuccessful. the only person who could hear what I had to say was a drunk. No one else could do anything but vaguely sense my existence. Wasn't this a movie once?

brain, you want war, you got war.

~

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