|Grateful Dead Concert
Author: speakeasy-love PM
I felt at home, real, in that smoke filled room with all the goddamn fun loving hippies. And going home smelling like goddamn fun loving hippies.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Spiritual/Poetry - Words: 295 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-12-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2708536
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I am lucky, that I have been reading poetry the past few weeks, or I would have no words to describe it.
I loved it, I loved everybody. I was part of something there!
I liked the three college football players, that smoked pot and hugged. and would raise their hands and shout in passion in between sets and hits!
I liked the boy who looked like Michael.
I liked the first person who offers me pot. I liked taking the small glass pipe (which I had never used before) and guessing. I liked handing it over to my dad. (who then shared the stuff he brought, which was better)
I felt at home, real, in that smoke filled room with all the god damn fun loving hippies. And going home smelling like god damn fun loving hippies.
I loved the women in front of us, who gave us water that tasted like cigarettes. and drinking it all desperately.
And the women, who danced unknowingly as a silhouette in the spotlight. All night long. Hypnotizing us (making us hers).
I liked being awake and alive.
I loved the people who danced next to us. Filling the area with passion (that none of us could even touch). They danced with their whole body! And when they left, and never returned all I did was hope they were somewhere, dancing. With people, who loved them, as much as we had.
And I loved it! I had found my people. No make up, no lies, only love.
And the whole time I was there I knew I had found what it was I'd been looking for. It doesn't have words, or pictures. It just is, and was. And that made everything special. And I was happy.