There were about a dozen moments last night when all I wanted in the world was for the Brozone to be blasting from the speakers of my stereo, real in all its glory. To say that the element was present and throbbing through its confined membrane is an understatement that I simply cannot describe well enough to do it justice. The feeling was euphoric, maddening, crawling around my dome like little pests that I so gladly welcomed inside, whistling, screaming, snorting pills, and playing marvelous music for me to hear as I went about my nightly agenda.
My phone was shut with speakerphone on, and I carried the small device around with me for close to an hour as the Brozone did its thing an hour East in Petaluma. I was here alone in my dirty city apartment, contemplating the feeling of being ditched and combining it with feelings of rapture and elation. Sounds had never swirled about me so perfectly, and even though I had experienced the Brozone before first-hand, I couldn't help but understand him when he would tell me that he was at the Brozone, yet I was the one in the Brozone. Whether it was the truth or not, I was certainly in some kind of altered state of mind listening to my stereo-box phone, even though I had consumed nothing but a small amount of hard liquor to please the earlier hour's anxiety. I was confused yet comfortable, present yet pensive, lonely yet loved. I didn't have to say anything, but my personal microphone was there if I happened to want it, and his voice was there on the other end if I happened to need some reciprocation, which seemed more comforting than even the feeling of having my dome invaded by his magical faux radio. All I needed and all I wanted was to listen, and even though other things were happening around me -- the real-life, sensible, average, sometimes boring things of planet Earth -- my brain spun further and further from logical sense with every second that I listened, and nothing had ever felt better to me in my life.
At the end of twenty minutes, and unbeknownst to the Brozone, I found myself curled up in a ball on the far side of my bed, with the phone lying in my hand as it relaxed to a near close. My eyes were closed and my other arm was wrapped around my side, fitting perfectly around the curve of my torso. As my eyes closed, I started to drift into the half-conscious state of mind, as if I was being spoon-fed drugs before an act of eight-hour intensive surgery to fix the problems in my befuddled dome. I was being mentally bombarded with sense and confusion by the Brozone, and I would be lying if I said it was anything short of euphoric. I was Damian's test subject, guinea pig of the Brozone, compensated for my time and brain with the pleasure of being seduced by something that the world did not even classify as Real. I had never felt so happily controlled before; so comfortably tapped into like I was some sort of blessed machine under close examination and inspection. I was the only person in the world that had access at that moment to the most free-floating, mind-altering radio show like it was some sort of random drug that only those who knew about it could take, and I was known to them only as "Caller". They were hypnotic sounds that drove me from conscious human being to a completely deceased angel of radio waves who was currently in the process of melting. Nobody would have even had to know I was there, because in a million ways, I was not. I was further away from Earth, my bed, myself, and the Brozone than anything in the entire galaxy, yet I was closer to my dome than ever before. After my eyes closed, I felt like there was nothing else in the world, and all that remained were the sounds of ten records playing in the distance while childhood toys had their sounds and screws manipulated to scare, sample noises from lifetimes before were screamed and over-emphasized in every direction, and a man with a soft voice read a children's story to whatever world was left to listen. That man may not know it, but I think the Brozone affected me last night in the exact way he's always wanted it to tap into everyone.