Blog
New Wave
It was a strange feeling. When I looked into the crowd and was swept over by an immense need to cry. I stood frozen in time, frozen in my sudden urge to reach inside myself and yank my heart out. The thundering beats, the florid lights, the melodic swaying, the sweat and the smell. If I’ve tried I could have captured them. But the missing note will still be missing. The moment felt incomplete, it couldn’t even justify tears.
“You can fuck me but you can’t have my soul”
The singer bawled and I jumped and yelled along. Stamping on feet and clapping on hair. Arms in the air and eyes wide shut. The mimicry felt like a mockery but was soothingly so. The little sparks of neon light were accentuated to a point where I could only laugh at their helpless extravagance. Everything was vulnerable and strong, confusing and unraveling, big and small at the same time. I wander the two spaces of my bipolarity and wonder what is it like to be pinned down in a singular dimension. Perhaps then lights and sounds could reach inside me. Perhaps then lyrical moments could touch me. Perhaps then being held from behind could disarm me.
Perhaps then it’d be easier to cry.