That, my friends, is my morning yogi tea tag mantra and it is mightily apropros of the metal concert I attended at the Oak Street Speakeasy last night. RAAAAAAAAAAAAHHWR!!!!
I worked my last day at the Library yesterday ("worked" being a relative term), handed in my badge (severed the umbilical cord), and walked out the door without looking back. That's not to say I didn't feel a twinge of oh my god what have I done-ness. On my walk home, I was asked if I wanted free dinner near the fish fountain, I think because I was wearing a backpack full to the brim with a coffee mug hooked on the side. Wasn't hungry, so I donated a loaf of Trader Joe's dumpster dived bread given to me by my former house mate Blanche and chatted up the kids who put the weekly saturday dinner on. Cool...
I was looking forward to Bat Makumba all day - CD release party, billed as a Brazillian funk rock ska band. Bring it on baby!
When I made my way back into town I stopped outside Cozmic, the venue for BM, and the place was nowhere near hopping. I felt no vibe, dig. So I wandered around downtown, riding past pubs and clubs, and then unbidden I thought hmmm.....I wonder if Rye Wolves is playing tonight? After a pitstop at Black Forest, Samurai Duck and Downtown Lounge, I grabbed a Weekly near the now-closed Zenon's (the one tangible of the market crash that I've witnessed) and browsed. And browsed...browsy browse...and COOL they are actually playing at the Speakeasy! RAAAAAHHHHWR!
Me, I've always wanted to hear Robin play sing sling some chords around, but no synchey-synchey so far. Walked in, he was there, we spoke some speaking, and they went on stage.
oh my god they erased my hard drive! I don't need to do drugs or prostrations, fasting or purging to reconstruct my reality. I just needed a combination of quitting my job and going to a live Rye Wolves show!!
I wish I had just left after they ruined me, but I stayed for one ballad* by a really popular goth metal band I've never heard of, and they blew this awful smoke all over, my existential breakthrough was diluted and now all I hear are the echos of the songs of the spheres. No I am serious, my brain waves were seriously altered and there was a puddle of drool on the floor after Rye Wolves finished their set.
All that and a wicked skull admission stamp on my forearm too.
Empty yourself and let the universe fill you, amen and forever, amen.
* nice hippocampus! hippodrome! I mean onomatopoeia! No, no....palindrome. Dammit it's not even that, but so close. Help me Mad Max.