Zen
All my bones are aching. The back of my neck feels like it's triple it's normal size. My hair is crusted with the salt of dry sweat. My torso reeks of beer. My voice is broken and my throat is sore. And I feel totally great.
So, how did it come to this? I just returned from a club. There was a party dedicated to my favorite german band, "Die Ärzte" from Berlin (from Berlin).
I'm a lazy and laid back person. I'm rather smooth, I don't get angry easily, I don't drink, I don't fight, I don't do drugs. So how do I get my kicks? Rock Music. Specifically, "dancing" to rock music, or even better punk. I headbang like a maniac, my body twitches like in a seizure, I stomp like a giant, I make my hair fly all around and I scream like a banshee. People clear a circle around me. I let the music go into me, control me, lead me. I do this until my heart feels like it's about to explode. Then I sit down somewhere, close my eyes, and with loud, noisy music and jumping and shouting people all around me, I reach my personal Zen, my personal clear mind.
Anybody who knows me closer and then for the first time sees me cut loose to the pushing beat of the drums, the powerful lure of the bass and the demanding screech of the guitar says I become a completely different person. Maybe I do. But I fucking love it.
Drops smells like a weasel caught in a bar and is out.
So, how did it come to this? I just returned from a club. There was a party dedicated to my favorite german band, "Die Ärzte" from Berlin (from Berlin).
I'm a lazy and laid back person. I'm rather smooth, I don't get angry easily, I don't drink, I don't fight, I don't do drugs. So how do I get my kicks? Rock Music. Specifically, "dancing" to rock music, or even better punk. I headbang like a maniac, my body twitches like in a seizure, I stomp like a giant, I make my hair fly all around and I scream like a banshee. People clear a circle around me. I let the music go into me, control me, lead me. I do this until my heart feels like it's about to explode. Then I sit down somewhere, close my eyes, and with loud, noisy music and jumping and shouting people all around me, I reach my personal Zen, my personal clear mind.
Anybody who knows me closer and then for the first time sees me cut loose to the pushing beat of the drums, the powerful lure of the bass and the demanding screech of the guitar says I become a completely different person. Maybe I do. But I fucking love it.
Drops smells like a weasel caught in a bar and is out.