and so it was...

like little miniature marching bands in my head, marching through my ear, into my head, winding up and up and up, echoing and vibrating losening up buried memories of long gone excitements. the cracks, the twists, the noises, the echoes, the strings, the dark obscure nights in some Berlin basement somewhere somewhen somehow amazing.
drum fills in rows like crushing shorelines, one after the other like precious beads on a necklace that i weave through my hair. the almost slow motioned movements of swaying hips, fluttering hands like caught up birds, looking for a way out, a way to follow the ever dictating beats and fills and waves and sounds clashing and splattered all over the floor. the dj's bend over the machines, creating powerful patterns, only known to them, translated by our bodies, our movements. hair flying through the air, smoke slowly filling the room with intrinsic formulas. snaking their way through sweating bodies, heavily pumping lungs, almost still life like people who froze in a moment of death, induced by borderline substances that beam you right there and back. smiles hanging in the air like a sleepy willow in a forgotten misty land and empty eyes staring, searching, losing, rolling back in dull sound filled heads.
i always thought that the sounds were utterly boring when lying on a bed all by yourself. searching hands could translate them well enough but best was and is, undeniably, the power of those soundwaves running through your veins, weaving secrets back and forth through you into the room, bumping off other people, dancing a mystical dance of forgetting and death.

and so it was,
in the mornings, when we could come back, resurfacing, coming from the dark, the sun was always so bright, and the birds filled the thundering silence.