lisp raze she hasn't had a show for at least a year. i only hear her in spot commercials now. and that's just once in a while. one of them is about volunteering at the station. there are so many ways, she says, and the last soft consonant buckles and warps beneath the weight of all the words that came before it. it's subtle. but it's there. an accident of articulation burned into her soft palate from birth. i've started calling her emily the friendly ghost. i wouldn't say it out loud. i don't want to seduce the cosmos into doing something stupid. but i'll say it inside my head. and i'll say it to you. you can't hear me anyway. you know what's twisted? i want to hug the part of her voice she's probably spent her whole life wishing she could hide. i want to tell her: i bet the thing you like least about yourself is the same thing that's going to make someone fall in love with you. but no one wants to hear that shit from a stranger. i hope she's happy in toronto. i miss her, and i never even knew her. 220819 ... insouciant Thanks for sharing this. When I hear myself speak in recordings, I hear one. No one ever brings it up, maybe I'm the only one that notices. But thanks for reminding me that perfection is not what makes people beautiful. 220819 ... raze i almost didn't post this yesterday; i didn't know if it would land the way i wanted it to. i'm grateful to know it resonated with you. (and i really do believe our quirks are a huge part of the personal alchemy that makes us special.) 220820 what's it to you? who go blather from