Stephen Mejias

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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 30, 2005 3 comments
We don’t get together as often as we’d like.
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 29, 2005 3 comments
In the conference room, where I have lunch each day with two of my favorite people in the world (I am very lucky), I found myself tapping my fingers in constant rhythm against the long, veneered table. Why was I doing this?
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 28, 2005 8 comments
Melissa is safe inside now. I just walked her home.
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 27, 2005 4 comments
Lisa Whiteman keeps a blog. I discovered it on May 12, 2003, and I have enjoyed it everyday since. How many days is that?
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 26, 2005 0 comments
I received a voicemail from Eileen on Friday night, which said something like: "You missed my phone call again, and I’m here with Sean and Omar and Allison and Justin and Lauren and Scott and Cheryn, and we’re all waiting for you, and you’re lame."
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 23, 2005 4 comments
I just want to sit here and be alone and think of her and drink Brooklyn Lager and listen to music and feel the cool new autumn wind blow through my open window—as soft and as right as her hand pressing mine—and forgive me, please friends, forgive me, but I’m tired and I’m happy and is there anything so wrong with that really?
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 23, 2005 0 comments
We’ve reached the end of the week.
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 22, 2005 8 comments
I was 22 years old, and had no idea that high-end audio existed. No idea at all.
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 21, 2005 9 comments
I was 22 years old, and had just made it back to New Jersey from a four-month trip traveling around the States aboard Amtrak trains.
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Stephen Mejias Posted: Sep 20, 2005 6 comments
On this occasion, however, John had not come over to tell me to run. Rather, he had come to tell me where to go: “Good work, but I think you’ll have to steer more towards audio,” he suggested.

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