Toe tapping beat….


Sitting, headphones jammed into my ears hard, blocking out the world outside as, eyes closed, the music swells transcending the limitations of the cheap speakers, the flawed digital source to blend within the filters of my mind into the crescendo of a live performance, the passion, the sweat, the energy, the anger, the screaming guitars and souring vocals scouring my soul over and over as the music fills me, bringing sweet oblivion from stress and dis-ease. Without bidding my thigh muscles begin to twitch in time with the pumping drum track below the bass. I can’t fight this even if I wanted to…my toes push against the inside of my boots, lifting, pausing, waiting for…..the beat, the lashing, cracking, deep, velvet, purple beat of that bass drum foot pedal crashing the head of the beater against the taut skin, the reverb backlash of the bass beat pounding, driving the bass line faster, harder, the toes slamming down, fury, anger released against stress that has brought me to this point, this need for freedom from pain, lost in the music of my youth, the lost and jilted generation, the post-war pre-millenials, the misfits, the outcasts, the lost boys…..the only ones

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