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DecayingYouth
Peter Grim
United States, AZ, Goodyear

Words: 237
Access: Public
Comments: 1

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Musical Fusion

Nothing exists but the vibrations of the music coming out of the black shaking amplifiers. Nothing else is real. My parents aren’t real. My school isn’t real. My ex-girlfriend, current crushes, caffeine addiction, computer, myspace.com account, cell phone, new text messages, future, career choice, past, and tensed up shoulders aren’t real. I’m so far away from all of that. I’m on the other side of a black hole from all of that.
But what’s really real? I’m new to this world. Show me around.
All that exists are these vibrations flowing through this bedroom, and my shirtless body, glistening with sweat, that shudders with the force of my voice as it reverberates in tongues against the walls.
It’s a weird daze. I’m floating. Mike Ness from Social Distortion’s words are spilling out of, and flooding the room around me.
“I’m your worn in leather jacket,
I’m the volume in your fucked up teenage band,
A pack of smokes and a six pack,
I’m the dreams you had walking down railroad tracks,
You and me.”
And we end with a long, drawn out “Don’t take…me…for…granted…!” as Aaron’s mom opens the door and snaps “It’s seven o’clock. My shows are on,” killing musical fusion is one breath.
My daze ends, everything exists again, and we all go home.

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Comments  
jgilgun Comment by: jgilgun - 2008-05-31 05:35
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Nice work. Quite a contrast to the state of mind of making music and then the intrusion. How many different states of consciousness can we handle?
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By DecayingYouth

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