The essence of music so loud
it’s like it’s the beat of your own heart,
and in a way
it seems to be keeping you alive in that moment.
in that two or three hours
you forget about what it is to grow up.
you forget about anything bad
or anything sour,
it’s just the music reflecting off of itself
combined with the voices of the crowd
and the faint smell of sweat and devotion.
and all you remember,
if anything at all,
is all the good memories,
the good inspiration,
you lose yourself in that room
and the blue and orange florescent lights hypnotize you.
this is the only place where no one cares if you intrude in their personal space
or pull their hair on accident or knock elbows
IS everyone’s own personal space.
a space where personal doesn’t exist
because everyone is connected here.
this is the place where you can be THAT crowded
and still feel like the only one in the room.
your feet hurt and you don’t care, the air would normally smell polluted but for some odd reason it’s not a awful smell anymore. things just make sense.
strangers feel like people you’ve known your entire life.
all of this in a couple hours and thirty-five dollars,
and there is hours and hours more.
knowing this exists,
i’d much rather spend my small amount of money
the hum of the speakers grow louder and louder.
my hands begin to trace my cool skin
glinting with sweat.
i feel the most beautiful when i’m dancing.
the kind of natural beauty you only get to grasp every now and then
when i tune into just the rhythm and how every note works together.
purity and passion.
my chin lifts,
and i smile.
my hair falling in waves behind my back.
my arms lift,
my hips sway,
forgetting where i am,
who i’m with.
the lights inside my eyelids remind me just enough im still here
and that’s all i need.
on the top of the world,
i raise my arms
and i scream
“i will never grow up!”
and the rest of the crowd seems to be echoing me.
the band is the rhythm
that ties us together
making us all
this is what it’s like to be home.