How To Stay Sane, Part 1.

I have work in the morning at 8am.  I will probably be up until 1am, maybe even 2am.  When I go to concerts, I feel alive.  Sometimes I just close my eyes, absorb the music, and know that there are better things out there for me.  When I hear the music, I can hear the possibilities in my mind.  I start composing poetry that I don't write down.

Now that I'm 28 and my friends are closer to their thirties as well, I sometimes hear that they are getting too old for this stuff.  Usually, they just mention these things jokingly between head-bangingly loud sets.  These days, we wear earplugs more often.  We scoff at what "the kids" are wearing this year.  I don't want us to actually get to the point where we are too old for this.  This elation should never get old.

When I feel the kickdrum in my chest, I can't help but be happy.  There is always catharsis, and the best shows lead to optimism.

In these moments, I don't worry about work.  I don't worry about sadness or drama.  I don't think about having diabetes.  I don't worry about the future.  I stomp my feet.  I swivel my hips.  I sing louder than I can even sing in the car or the shower.   Maybe I think of a past love or an old friend or someone who should be there with me to share the experience.  Music is so important to my life, so transformative at times.

Wolf Parade, Trocadero, Philadelphia PA.  11-4-10.

A thousand little gloves
What makes you know you’re alive
This heart’s on fire
This heart’s on fire

--Wolf Parade, "This Heart's on Fire"