As a disclaimer, this is why I don’t write my blog when I’m junked up on psyche.

That said, I love a good gig. I wouldn’t be in this business if I didn’t. There’s something about being up on stage; all eyes on you. They’re hanging on your voice between our world and some…. some more euphoric place. We share it, together. I’m not talking about astral space or head-space. What I’m talking about is the moment. Our moment. Our connection… and I feel it too.

That’s how Club Penumbra slid by last night. Up on the stage and playing our souls out in that most sacred hall. We lit it up and tore the roof right off that fragger. The lights, the digitally rendered constellations that flowed past us… I was in love with every one of you. So much eye contact, you stared into my soul and I screamed back. You made me feel.

I heard sirens in the deep of the night after the show. Knights Errant floats through our streets like a habit Seattle can’t kick. I remember when it was Lone Star. Not a lot of difference, still so glitched up. They didn’t really do much to protect you. Protection was something we didn’t ever know on the street. All they did was make you want to fall further into the cracks. Deeper.

Had a dream. I was sixteen again. Wasn’t so sweet but it was my birthday. At least I’m pretty sure it was. I remember it because I nearly sold myself. Just didn’t care anymore, you know? I was too young and too desperate and he was… just really lonely I think. If giving it up was going to get me off the street for a little while then it was a good price to pay. I was waiting on the couch and fidgeting uncontrollably, suddenly aware of every inch of my body… swore I could even feel each strand of my teal dyed pixie cut and every place where clothes touched skin. Everything was so alive. I felt my body flush and my stomach clench. I was awakened. Not that glamorous I know, awakening on an old patched up couch just before you’d planned on making the biggest little mistake in your teenage life… but it was definitely punk.

That’s when I met Keening for the first time. I’d learn that Keening would be my go between. My conduit to the Dragonslayer. The spirit looked like me but more like the me that I never had been, if that makes any sense. She was ethereal, powerful and so very primal. Then she screamed; Fraggin’ wailed at me and I know only I could hear her. She wanted me to wake up; to get the hell up. To fight it. Being desperate didn’t mean you just gave up. It just meant you had to fight a little harder.

So I raided his fridge and crawled out the window before he came back from the Stuffer Shack. I think of that guy sometimes. Wonder if he ever found a body he didn’t have to buy. Wonder if he’s still lonely.

It was raining that night… rain is so pretty bouncing off the old market sign in Touristville. The drops hit those neon tubes and shimmer in the air. I wanted to be naked and free under the sky and the glow. Wasn’t what happened though. Truth be told I just crossed my arms closer to my chest and the stolen junk food and stumbled into the dark. In my mind though… In my mind, chum… I was free.

That’s a trip. All that thought on the edge of a good gig. That’s what you do to me. That’s how intimate it was. You deserve to know all of this after that show. We’re lovers now, afterall. Thank you for dancing through the stars with me tonight. Penumbra was better for it.

#psyche, #music, #clubpenumbra, #seattlenightlife, #thefraggin’olddays, #awakening

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