Tuesday, November 2, 2010

311 on Halloween

The concert was fucking loud. I’m talking 1,000 plus rock coinsures banging their lungs to their genetic capacity. Indoor venues make your ribs shake. The dark lighting and the overwhelming stench of joy stretching from speaker to back door ripped the airwaves into a new sensation. I couldn’t hear myself pee when I went between sets. My lobes throbbed and my smile screamed. Incandescent characters dressed in holiday garb lined the bars and the beer never stopped flowing. People don’t give a shit on Halloween and it shows. The one time of year you get to wear your great idea and laugh at the others. Its reckless and loose and everybody gets it. I actually felt bad for the plainly dressed clowns who let their inner child pass away. Standard street clothes displaying blank slates of the creativity. BOOOO! Weird is king on the 31st! Somewhere in-between the maniacs and the methodical thump of the bass, glow sticks exploded against the dim background of the chicly lit stage. Hoards of them blooming in schools and raining joy. Cluster bombs of light and streaks fantasy falling on unsuspecting dancers. Nobody gets pissed when a concert comes to you. I bopped my head, snapped my fingers and watch the stars fall from the sky. I closed my eyes and absorbed the echoes of awesome.

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