yeah i’ve been to a few concerts. i’ve seen maroon 5 twice, but our seats were way in the back…
mosh pit? no, i’ve never been in the mosh pit before.
small girls with big phones.
big dudes with small phones.
people furiously text friends blurry pictures of the stage.
snapchat, facebook, instagram messaging every single person
to show off that the are standing and sweating in a forest of people
they don’t know.
peer pressure to smoke the blunt, it passes around me and my small squad.
the hesitant girl who took a drag immediately looks concerned.
what has she just done???
she brings her hands up to her throat.
it hurt and she feels bad now.
it moves further on,
and the air fills with ever expanding clouds of smoke
giving us our very own second-hand high.
during the openers it gets super aggressive.
people are trying to get up to the front by way of jumping.
‘we gotta wait for the mosh then we gotta push thru!’
-some guy behind me
locked knees, i’m not at ease.
the jumping subsides as the spaces are filled
and the crowd backs up, realizing that they are smashing feet
and getting feet smashed.
the openers finish
random popular music plays on an empty stage
and my discomfort at standing among hundreds of sweaty, overalled, twenty-somethings steadily rises.
i am increasingly more aware of my body
and what it’s touching.
behind me, the in’s and out’s of a guy breathing rocks me like a boat, only i don’t get seasick, just claustrophobic.
i don’t know what to do with my hands.
and i end up touching people’s butts
and i end up hitting people in the head,
because my arms are weak and can’t stay up without support for that long.
i am small
this mosh pit thing is not for me
and just when i think i will reach my breaking point,
an hour with my closest companions,
chance graces the stage.
his voice rings, playing with us as he hides in the dark of the stage.
i knock into people,
i yell in their ears,
and hit them in the head with my weak arms.
i enjoyed the hell out of that concert.