And they played all the songs I wanted to hear most

I want to write about it before I lose the feeling of the experience, I already am a bit and that’s okay. I am sore today all over my body, and I feel like both of my arms should be heavily bruised (but I seriously never actually bruise I just feel bruised) and my throat hurts from screaming. I had a wonderful night last night. I got to see a band that I was absolutely in love with as a teenager, and you know that shit never really leaves you. The music you loved at that age becomes a part of you forever, and you always have a soft spot for it, even if you grow up and realize it kinda sucked. I went all by myself and it was nice. Doing stuff by yourself is seriously underrated. I felt free, free to enjoy myself. If I had been with someone I would have been worrying whether they were enjoying themselves the whole time, whether they were okay with where we were standing, if they wanted something different…etc. But It was me and a crowd of strangers and so so loud music. I brought ear plugs and used them for the shitty opening band I didn’t want to hear… but I sacrificed my ears to Atreyu more than I probably should have. It’s been years since I’ve been to a concert with a mosh pit and I fucking missed it. Like I can’t believe I went so long without going to one. It’s such a beautiful, cathartic, completely unique experience, and I highly recommend everyone try it at least once. (if they are physically and mentally able without risking any type of serious damage to themselves. ) My parents were all worried about me going because it’s a “gutteral screaming” band and they thought it might be an unsavory crowd. I couldn’t properly explain, if you haven’t experienced it you can’t know how safe it feels. You are all there together screaming the same words, jumping and shoving each other and trusting each other. If you fall down in the pit there are a dozen hands helping you up before you even fully hit the ground. And you do the same for others if you see them fall. I pull up this huge guy and we lock eyes and we are both wearing a battle grin. His lip is bleeding a thin line down his chin and he claps me on the back like a comrade in arms before heading back into the fray. I head back in as well, and throw myself into the people at the edge of the circle. It’s so… Unlike society. Everyone is accepted and you don’t feel awkward. You get to choose your level of involvement and you can feel confident that those around you will respect that choice.  You are just free. You are free to express yourself by throwing your body against other people, and screaming as loud as you can, and it’s the music you loved, and love still, that drove you and changed you and it’s alive and you’re alive.

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emo in iambic pentameter

I take my broken heart out for a drive

just cruising through the city as it rains

and we don’t even try to talk because

between us there are no real words to say

I take my broken heart out for a walk

just winding through the park and through the rain

the droplets beat a rhythm fast and low

a rhythm that my dear heart can’t sustain

Nosferatu…oh wait… I mean… nostalgia.

I miss xanga. It felt like a safe, personal place in a way that this website never. ever. will. I’ve looked at the new xanga and it’s pretty much exactly like this and I hate it too. I don’t know any of the people on here and most of the people who follow me are from weird commercial-seeming blogs (uh… no offense) and it just doesn’t feel like I can put the same kinds of words here as I could put there. Safe. My colors my background my friends only settings my actual people I knew and talked to and followed and cared about at least slightly. This place feels huge in comparison, yet somehow desolate in comparison. I need to be doing my work. I NEED to be doing my work I have a huge paper due at midnight tomorrow and 3 more articles due by Wednesday morning and yet, here I am. Unable to focus on my work screen for more than a few seconds because it is so terrible and boring and I want to go for another walk in the snow, and sit in the snow, and freeze. I want to go out into my parents’ backyard, far across town, and go up into the fort that no longer exists and hasn’t for years and listen to music and write by the light of the moon reflecting off the snow, in my emo little notebooks that felt so. so. so. just so.