134 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
134 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #595
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`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
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888 888 888 888 888 "Catatonia"
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888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
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888 888 888 888 888 " by AnonGirl
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888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 4/24/99
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o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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Her eyes opened at eight thirty a.m. They were dry and burning as
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she checked her watch. Eight thirty indeed. She'd fallen asleep at seven
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a.m. She was still wearing her khaki polo shirt, blue jeans and running
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shoes from the night before. The tweed upholstry of the couch felt like
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it was grating away at her neck and arms. She could've used a pillow.
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She felt sleepy again. She closed her eyes and heard someone walking
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around the apartment. It was one of the two tennants, her friends, most
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likely. She would pretend to be asleep, to avoid having to make small
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talk with whoever it was walking around. She listened as he showered and
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made his lunch for work. She heard him leave as she began to feel more
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awake. How could she possibly feel awake? She'd slept an hour and a half.
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She tried to force herself to sleep, but the scouring upholstry and awful
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Peach Schnapps taste in her mouth were hindering her progress. She decided
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to try the futon in the next room. Maybe it was easier to fall asleep on
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that than this diabolical couch.
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The sun blazed in on the futon. The curtains couldn't block out the
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rays, which burned their presence onto her body. Lying in the scorching
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sunlight, she decided to hide underneath the covers. This only baked her
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more. Unsuccessful at falling asleep, she picked up an old issue of
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'Details' and flipped through it. She checked her watch after reading a
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few articles. Eight forty-nine. What seemed to be five hours was only
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nineteen minutes. She fell back onto the bed too quickly, and the familiar
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feel of nausea sank in. She knew she wasn't supposed to move around
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hastily like that. She was to take slow, small actions. After another
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five minutes of trying to sleep, she sat up slowly, upset at her failure.
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She sluggishly went into the kitchen and poured some water. Perhaps it
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would help her sleep, and rid her mouth of the intoxicating taste.
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The cold water felt good, although it didn't help. She still felt
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dazed and uneasy. She returned to the inferno bed and tried to sleep. The
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alley outside of the window was making matters worse. The sound of the
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city was invading her ears. She was ten stories up, but the noises
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appeared to be within three feet of the futon. Every sound conceivable was
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heard: footsteps of busy people walking through the alley, babies crying,
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cars honking, dogs barking, music playing, people yelling. She hid her
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head under the pillow, but the noises didn't stop and the heat was
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unbearable. She quickly removed the pillow from her head. She laid there,
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staring at the off-white cieling, pondering whether she'd ever sleep again.
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She began to feel drowsy. Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and that
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wonderful sensation of repose was slowly taking over, just as the telephone
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rang. Her entire body jerked as the loud ringing sound blared in her ears.
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As soon as the ringing stopped, the jackhammer started, as if every other
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thinkable sound wasn't enough. Each thrust felt like a mallet pounding on
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her skull at full force. It was almost as though it was operating in slow
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motion. In the midst of all these noises, she could hear the first
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movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing somewhere. She couldn't
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tell if it was real or in her head.
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She wouldn't sleep soon. The futon itself felt as hard as a rock.
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She figured trying the second futon in the other room was her final hope.
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She gradually made it into the next bedroom, which was noticeably darker.
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Her nausea grew as she plunked onto the futon. It was much more
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comfortable than the other. Sleep was within reach. She was still wide
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awake when the phone rang again. She began blocking out all sound. The
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jackhammer had finally ceased. She was soon reminded of the small, gray
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kitten living in the apartment when it jumped on her face. Instead of
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having some sort of reaction, she laid there, motionless. She didn't have
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the energy to remove it. She was catatonic. The young cat jumped off of
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her face and began darting all over the bed. She wanted to play with the
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cat, but refused, out of spite. She wasn't going to let this creature
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interfere with her attempt at sleeping, no matter how lovable and charming
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it was.
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She checked her watch. One p.m. The noises were louder than ever.
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The kitten was becoming more rambunctious as the time passed. The heat was
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intolerable. She was far past the stage of delerium. She laughed at the
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windows and talked to the walls, which would answer her on occasion. The
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nausea she felt was overwhelming, but she managed not to throw up all
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morning.
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The phone rang again. It rang endlessly, at least thirty times.
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She couldn't take much more, and slowly picked up the receiver.
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"Hello?" she said in a lethargic tone.
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"Christ jesus, I've been trying to call you forever! What the fuck?
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Don't you pick up the phone when it rings?" the voice yelled. She held
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the receiver away from her ear until the person stopped speaking.
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"Who is this?" she asked.
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"It's me, retard!" the person replied. She soon recognized the
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voice of a friend.
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"I don't live here, Erica. I don't answer phones in places where I
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don't live," she replied.
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"I let it ring a hundred times! Anyway, I'm downstairs. Come down,
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I'm here with Cameron. We're waiting for you." It was one forty-five.
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She couldn't comprehend what her friend was saying.
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"What? Who? What's going on? Downstairs?" she said, confused.
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"Get off your fucking lazy ass and come downstairs. We're waiting
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for you!"
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"Ergh. I can't. I'm so tired, Erica." She slurred her words.
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"I don't give a shit. We've been waiting here for ten minutes!
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Get up!"
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"Alright, I'll be down in ten minutes. But don't fucking blame me
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if I fucking puke all over your fucking face," she said, angrily.
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"Whoa there, tiger. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!
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Why are you so bitchy?"
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"I've forgotten how to sleep, and I feel like I'm going to die.
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And puke."
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"You're such an alcoholic. Now get the fuck up!"
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"Fuck you. I'll be down in ten."
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"Ciao-a-tutti!"
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"Die." She hung up the phone. She reluctantly got up, brushed her
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teeth and headed downstairs to meet her friends. The Moonlight Sonata
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continued, but luckily it went unnoticed.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #595 - WRITTEN BY: ANONGIRL - 4/24/99 ]
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