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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Music · #1775754
Blood soaked nickel-plated wires betray the goings-ons of this garage
Here's to that cosmic surge of energy during a break

right at the apex of the musical idea

when every participant is just fucking vibin’ off

the near infinite volume of concomitant sonic relationships.

Your heart starts pounding along to the beat

tugging upward as if it’s trying to fucking burst from your torso

you just lean backwards

and slowly close your eyes as time slows to a sloth’s pace.

You’ve gone completely right-brain.

There is no more intellectual deliberation

you are as much the music as the notes and frequencies your instrument of choice

emanates.

Your fingers bleed

but you don’t feel them.

Your muscles ache with an excruciation

but contract and relax in ways you never thought humanly possible.

You forget your name.

You forget the world.

Then you exit your body altogether

soaring upwards into the well of consonant noise as it ebbs and flows through the

sound space

and you weep

and holler

and shout for joy.

Pure

pixelated

unfocused

untamed

bliss.

Everyone is so intimately connected

they’re blanketed with sound

and each other’s spiritual embrace.

Souls burst into flames

and scorch fiery love in concert across celestially clothed chests

burning with the white intensity of channeled ingenuousness

getting hotter and hotter

until every remnant of the ego has collapsed and melted away.

You’ve done it

you’ve reached the zenith

shining

and naked

and clean.

As you sail across the horizon

like a meteoroid in its last visible seconds of combustion

you stare down at the earth and remember

who

what

and where you really are.

You tumble through space

atmosphere

and sky

and hit the ground.

You’re subsumed back into the reality of your inhibited perceptions.

As the coda ends

You look around at everyone

With their childish grins and lighter hearts.

Things are going to be okay

you’ve figured it all out.

After all, you just lived a few lifetimes together.
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